After a scrumptious Saturday breakfast at Cafeteria, 7th Avenue and 17th Street, we strolled down 17th Street feeling full and lazy. We bumped into the Rubin museum. I’d heard about it for years and here it was. I was in Nepal and India many, many years ago. A muted interested in their art and architecture was born. Miracle of miracles, the Rubin was open. The museum was dark, somber and almost deserted. We appreciated the glorious map of the Middle and Far East before concentrating on the Gateway to Himalayan Art. What a treat. No fuss, no bother and then to be transported to the glorious, mysterious, Himalayan world.
Jean Montrevil is a Judson Memorial Church member who was deported three years ago. He is an example of a courageous person who keeps going in spite of life’s injustices. His work with immigrants caught the attention of ICE and Jean was deported abruptly to Haiti in 2018. This January Judson is running a campaign to have Jean Montrevil pardoned and brought home to his family, friends and church. Please check out judson.org.
My cousin, Molly Heron, is an accomplished photographer who highlights Central Park flora and fauna. She brings them to life for me. I look at them much more closely than I do in real life.
Welcome to vaccine madness. It reminds me of the Guy and Dolls floating crap game.
A bright spot was my first time Tarot reading. It was a Zoom Tarot session. I was a little nervous but Victoria Gardina guided me sweetly and smoothly through the 60 minutes. I wanted guidance about the way I’m my own worst enemy. In other words, how do we get out of our own way? The beautiful Tarot cards were visual tools that helped me see what I couldn’t see on my own. Victoria recommended taking notes. I’m glad she did. I scribbled down Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, highly recommended by Victoria.
While reading Liane Moriarty’s “The Husband’s Secret” for the second time, I came across an Australian character wondering why NYC is referred to as the big apple. Who knows? Wikipedia knows.
It was used by John J. Fitz Gerald who wrote horse-racing columns for The New York Morning Telegraph. He first heard two African Americans in New Orleans referring to New York’s racetracks as the big apple. In 1929 Fitz Gerald wrote, “The Big Apple. The dream of every lad that ever threw a leg over a thoroughbred and the goal of all horsemen. There’s only one Big Apple. That’s New York.” By the 1950s the term was considered old fashioned, out-dated. It was revamped in the 1970’s during NYC’s financial crises and has been popular ever since.