Yes, my birthday came up again, another year added and not to be ever taken away. Since lots of cough plagued me recently we decided for Iceland since this trip also included spa treatments. Off we went for three days which seemed so much longer
once we arrived. I had not seen my nephew Tom for easily twenty years  and had contacted him to meet in Reykjavik, but he left his decision in the open. At the end of the first day in Reykjavik the telephone rang and he had just arrived and he took a taxi over. Well this called for a good meal.

It was a grand trip!

Once upon a time I expressed my observations in a blog.

Spring arrived, Summer arrived, Fall arrived and now it's almost winter again. What happened? I guess I just became bored with it all. But in retrospect many things have happened, many great books were read, lots of movies seen, and I don't know how many heaters and ballets were attended. And it was never never boring. My freelance jobs of creating canvasses or brochures or whatever,  or creating events interfered here and there of course, but since this did not bring in lots of money it is probably better not to use this as an excuse.
What I really miss is doing my book blogs, since I seem to be reading and reading and not always retaining everything. I wish I had written it all  down. Now in a capsule, I just write down what I still remember of the past two weeks:

• Hemingway's Boat: don't like it too much, too uneven and the author is hopping back and forth all the time. But had read "The Paris Wife"  (which I liked) a little while ago. And why not dig a little bit deeper. In addition a friend of mine is working on a Hemingway book presently and she goes to Cuba, yes Cuba, very soon for some research. Vow, I would love that!
• Went to the BAM  and saw BROOKLYN BABYLON — avant grade music by a very young composer, James Argue, who has created a symphony which was accompanied by a painter who drew the story in the background, non-stop, and at the end erases it all. In short, the story deals with the plan of a carpenter who is commissioned to build a huge tower with a carousel on top in Brooklyn. Pretty, fast and charming.
• DANCING AT LUGHNASA, an Irish play, nostalgic about the way how we tend to remember.
• Picked up a new cat, really just picked it up and it was ours. She still does not have a name. Stefan calls her SHEEBA, I call her DIE SCHWARZE. It's not a baby, but a well adjusted cat and it feels fine.
• There was Zucotti Park, an encampment in Downtown NY, the 99% people with whom you can well identify. I said "was" since it was cleared yesterday by the Mayor.
• My birthday came again (like or not like it, it comes and goes). I am proud owner of a new Mac and a complete set of Adobe Design software. Could not be happier and needed to learn quite a bit to pick up. Amazing. A gift from Stefan.
• A trip to Iceland, four days, filled with spa's and Northern Lights and winter. A gift from Jay.
• Endless visits to a dental clinic in Newark NJ for the past months together with Christine where we get patched up by poking into our gums, pulling of teeth, root canal, done by students  — all under the supervision of Professors who we assigned to deal with our neglect. Painful and as I said endless since each session takes almost 3 hours. And once in a while it is two sessions.

This is what comes to my mind presently as a vague reflection of present life. But from now on again, there will be more with more steam. I say.

What is happening to nature?

To live alongside the beautiful Hudson River and stunning vistas to Manhattan with all it's wonderful happenings and light shadings is a constant enjoyment. The whole coast line however has now been built up, first there was one building (mine, good 40 years ago), than two, and now non-stop high-rises and gated communities — many of them  beautiful and tasteful, some are  not,  and they are interspersed with shopping malls and movie houses and many many eating spots and bars, marinas. Everything is at your fingertips.

To reach any of these establishments one needs to take  River Road, which once-upon-a-time was a little innocent road but has now in a frightful way developed into  a highway (almost) with a constantly zooming traffic. Along River Road, on the other side, are the high and magnificently looming Palisades, tall  and towering wooded cliffs — absolutely gorgeous.

Now imagine what I saw yesterday with Stefan — at the riverside tucked between a huge fancy shopping center  and another huge apartment dwelling is a useless and gray looking, fenced in spot which cannot be built upon because the ground is contaminated and unsafe; it is a brownfield area due to the old factories which once stood there and supported this old port town Edgewater. With other words this is a  fenced in no-man's land surrounded by all these new buildings and across from Manhattan.

And here I found them, these three deer, staring at me, standing in this unsafe environment, drinking from the water, picking from whatever is available. How did they get there? Did they come from the Palisades Cliffs, which are also built up a bit here and there, and did they cross the River Road to end up in this little piece of no-man's land not good enough for human beings but good enough for them? Sad.

Molly Sweeney — an Irish tale

I listened to an interview on NPR with the actress Geraldine Hughes about the play "Molly Sweeney."  It sounded so great that sure enough we ended up at this very small Irish Repertory Theatre for a Matinee performance. The stage was tiny and the seats were arranged in front and on the side. It guarantees a close up view and feels very intimate. Three wonderful actors — the husband, the doctor and Molley Sweeney. Molly is a confident, beautiful and life-affirming woman who is blind since she was 10 months old and she is happily adjusted; her head is held always straight up and she "looks" forward, her eyes are partially closed and constantly move up and down. Although she is clinically blind she explains at the beginning that she has her own way of seeing and she has more than come to terms with the world as she knows it.

The story is told by the three narrators in alternating monologues and we learn what happens when the restless husband and the once famous doctor decide to have her undergo a sight restoring operation. The medical miracle has terrible consequences. When the bandages come off, remarkable revelations ensue. Molly is unable to adjust to her new ability to see and ends up in a mental hospital. Her husband moves on and the doctor resigns and also packs up his things. In between there is a moral lesson implying that one should not argue with nature. At least that's what I read into it.

The play was written by Brian Friel who skillfully unfolds this mesmerizing and heartbreaking story in two acts. The stage is bare with three chairs only and large windows in the background. There is no costume change, no decoration, just spellbinding acting by these three actors. Finished writing this I wonder why I called it "an Irish tale" — it's a tale of great humanity that just doesn't belong only to the Irish but to all of us. But only the Irish can present it like this, plain and wordy and thought provoking.

Inconveniences

For almost 15 years I live now in this apartment and almost every year without a doubt a flood comes from the ceiling, starting in light drip, drip, drips and ending up in huge leakages. The ceiling will be opened up, engineers will come and peek inside, this or that will be declared the reason for the damage, and every year, once it is all dried up again, a painter arrives and paints the whole living room again. Nice and new.

This year, or better last year in March it happened again, horrendous floods arrived from the top. Except this year new Management had decided to fix it once and for all and permanently. No objection from my side of course. Two huge plates cover the ceiling holes "for the time being",  two buckets are installed inside the ceiling to catch the drips;  every week, sometimes twice a weeks, these buckets are emptied. A parade of so called "engineers" walk in, climbing up the ladder, taking a good look of the crawl space and the pipes above, photographing it all, but unfortunately until now they could not agree on the cause of the damage.  I think each engineer comes up with  his own but different solution. And I have my own opinion; it is the poor infrastructure of the building which sits on wetlands. But of course I don't know and I am not an "engineer". I am told,  it's the fault of the penthouse owner above me, then it is leaking pipes, then it is leakage from the outside of the building and men are ordered to fix the cracks on the outside, hanging there in their seats above the 21st floor and they are smiling. This or that and nothing helps. I went to the Management today again to show my impatience (what a waste) and I learned that tomorrow another "engineer" is supposed to come up with a new solution — another permanent solution I am told! Am I supposed to believe it? A quite amazing and hair raising story. This is now my one year anniversary living with a damaged ceiling and flickering electricity. I am exhausted and mad, but fortunately I am also more than occupied with other things and problems, and I stay patient. But honestly I feel a great helplessness has crept up in me. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Jay's Book about Samuel Roth

It's done, after 6 years Jay finished the draft of his book. It's neatly packaged on two disks, one for the text, one for the images and off it goes to University Press of Florida. What a job it is to research and write and proofread and proofread again and again  a scholarly book. Of course this is not the end, just the opposite and the beginning of a new chapter: the reading, the editing and so on will follow now. The headache won't stop. But I think Jay was very happy that this part is done. Congratulations and good luck Jay!

President's Day

Yes the bad economy is felt all over as everybody knows. But here is a surprise. On President's Day, a shopping and day off day, I realized there was splendor out of my window. The side beams of the GW Bridge were fully illuminated; gorgeous, peaceful and splendid.