Category Archives: The Present

Where? There!

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As I run amok in my home town I am wont to randomly photograph any architecture and various works of art, that capture my attention. On occasion they are easily recognizable icons of New York City – the Empire State Building, the Prometheus sculpture at Rockefeller Center. Mostly, I like to capture items the even fellow denizens may not be aware exist unless they frequent the area.

The rules, such they’re not, are simple enough. Anything under “Where’s Raivenne?” is somewhere in New York City. I post the picture and you guess the location.  The first person to guess the correct location generally wins. A more exact location, even if it appears after a correct response, will trump a more generic description.  For example this photo:

Where's Raivenne

Click for larger image

The person who responded with the lyrics to the song “Downtown” was technically correct. I was in downtown NYC. She won my heart because I do love that song, but “downtown” is too vague to win the game.  Two people responded with the correct answer – City hall Park. the person who responded first “won”. The only answer that would have trumped it is if someone had said answered something like”The fountain at City Hall Park facing Park Row”.

The rules are very loose and winners receive nothing more than the accolade of knowing they’ve guessed correctly.

Some guess more than others, some get them right more than others, some of my of fellow denizens get none of them right.  I also give extra points for creative answers, that are blatantly wrong, but make me laugh. Sometimes I even stump myself. Such as when I once  I posted a picture while I was drunk and had no idea where I was the next day. It took two years and pure happenstance that I walked past the exact place again to answer my own query.

Every now and then I toss out technicalities just to mess with people. Hey, my games – my rules, but it’s all in fun.

I post them on my Facebook page under the heading of “Where’s Raivenne?” The tagline to the album states:

You may not know where I’m going, but you might know where I’ve been…

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Let’s see where my fellow slicers are taking us today in the challenge:

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 16 – Two Writing Teachers

Buggin’

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I’ve a problem people…

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I’ve got the travel bug.

No, really it’s bad.

I have one vacation set for the end of July, another vacation set for mid October.  For the past couple of weeks I have perusing travel sites to plot a weekend in London this year. I’ve also been laying out a plan to visit a couple of far off  lands for 2017. And because -why the hell not? – I’m plotting flights, for a grand excursion in 2018 for my 55th birthday.

I mean seriously, people – we’re not even out of March of 2016!!!!

I’ve held a baby crocodile in the Bayou, wrapped my self with a constrictor in the Caribbean, rode a camel in the desert of Dubai (trust me that last is not as impressive as it sounds, but I did it, so it counts). And yet all I can think is – what’s next?

The 52 year old me finds myself in a position the fifteen year old me could never have fathomed –  I have friends and acquaintances in several countries – and I want to visit all of them!

Hell, the only reason I’m not  going anywhere between now and July is time and money.  Actually, it’s just money. I have plenty of vacation time, in which to feed the travel bug, just not the funds to satiate it’s hunger. I mean have given up my Starbucks from time to time for travel. Put back that oh-so-fab suit for an extra hotel night, and really I can Netflix tonight to real life another night – right? Right!

But a girl can only deal with so much ramen noodles and there’s no Netflix without electricity – so priorities.

* spies a travel deal online * Hey, that bed-and-breakfast weekend in….

* spies utility bill on table * Le sigh….

Oh this travel bug has sunk its teeth in DEEP.

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Let’s see how other’s are slicing through this 14th day of the challenge.

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 14 – Two Writing Teachers

 

Because

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Saw this posted on Facebook…

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I feel this also applies to just about any and everyone in the creative field, but especially the writers.

We creative types give many, many thanks to our respective muses, imaginations, inspirations or whatever we choose to call that which guides us to create in whatever medium. And while everything we do is a piece of our truths, it’s not always our personal stories we convey.  A Clockwork Orange By Anthony Burgess,  Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote are first person stories told from the viewpoints of a fifteen year old boy who probably has Asperger, and a flighty young woman in 1940’s New York City, respectively.  Suffice it to say neither tale was told from the first person view of the author. We as readers seem to innately understand this when it comes to novels, without introductions, forwards or some other advance notice to clue us in. Yet not so much with poems. Unless the reader already knows, or knows of, the writer, the first person view-point is general taken as, well, personal.

While my drawings and paintings leave a lot to be desired, I do feel I have a fair hand at the written word, specifically my poetry.  Still, just because my writes are in first person singular, don’t always make them my first hand account.I mostly write in the first person, as in 95% of what I pen is from that perspective, and considering  some of the poems I have written, let’s just say be damned grateful those writes are pure imagination, okay?

Though I cannot help it if it is not read, I now make a point of adding a footnote at the end of my writes if I think there may be even the slightest confusion. At least now, if a comment is given under misunderstood information, I know it’s not because I didn’t let the reader know.

I write, you read, and if the correct words come together enough for you to feel something, then I feel I’ve done my job well as communicator. I’m not going to lie, it makes me feel good when I read that the things I write touch people.  If I manage to evoke a laugh, a quiet reflection, visceral anger or have your heart-break just a little, I am grateful. Just not a former sharecropper, or an unborn child, or a cutter or getting murdered or… or…

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Let’s see how others are communicating with what’s left of this lovely Sunday:

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 13 – Two Writing Teachers

 

Timing Is Everything – And It Sucks

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It was 7:30 am  when the sun’s warmth, a chirping bird, and yes, my bladder, wake me.  I rise and am actually shining and raring to go.  I told I was going to be productive today.

I promised myself today was indoor chore day.

You know the day. The today is the day I am finally going to <- fill in the boring-time-consuming-put off for too long – have no choice chore – here -> day. Today I have three of them to be done and I promised myself they will  be done today.

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There’s only one sliiiight problem…

The weather was gorgeous today.  A beautiful early spring day here in New York City.The sun is out, the temperatures are wonderful. Of course it is.

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Yes, I could probably leave this until tomorrow when it’s overcast and not as pretty, but I know me. Dreary days never make me want to do housework. Besides, it really has to be done today because I actually felt like doing it. Goodness only knows when I am going feel like being domestically productive like this again. (I think the last time was around Thanksgiving.) I told myself I could not leave t go to the store, because once I’m out the door that’s it, I’m not coming back to do anything. I even told myself I am not allowed to post today until at least two of those things were completed.

Not started.
Not partially done.
Completed.

The first one, the hardest one, was checked-off by 11:30am. Yes!

I look at my computer. Touch a key to wake it. The blank page awaiting a post stares at me. I almost sat down, but then I remembered it had to be two things. I had only done one.

swearing

And naturally there were the texts and calls with their oh so tempting invitations trying hard to lure from my appointed goals. One friend flat out laughed at me, but I held fast.

You know I mean business!

Alas, it is now after 5pm. The sun is on the other side of my home from when I started this morning. I have only minutes of daylight left.

Now you know when I put my mind to indoor chore day a) it’s serious and now that I sit here at last to post b) I’ve checked three items off the list!

Yeah you read that right. The thirds job was the easiest one. I decided to just buckle down and “git ‘er done.”

I now have the rest of the evening and all day tomorrow free. Go me!

goodjob

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Let’s see how productive my fellow slicers are this 12th day of the challenge!

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 12 – Two Writing Teachers

 

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries – As Cute Does

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“I bet you think you’re cute.”

This coming from a young woman in her late twenties to me because I, a grown-ass woman almost twice her age, beat her to a seat on the subway.  I’m sure she only said it because she saw I had earbuds on and likely thought I could not hear her. Wrong.

Let’s see…

I.  I’m in a bodycon dress where this body is throwing all kinds of conscious attitude, the boots are cute, the mane with it’s deep purple highlights is shining and glorious, the gold mirrored, clear trim sunglasses are fierce and the face is done.

II. A woman does not step out of her home looking the way I looked  and don’t know she’s got it going on – no apologies or *bleeps*  given.

III. Oh dear Lord, it’s 2016 – catty females still say “she think she cute”? I thought that was as played out as “jive turkey”. So disappointing.

Being called out on cuteness traditionally is supposed to tear a female down. It’s a chastisement. Because heaven forbid she should own her beauty. She should be modest and demur, respond with something along this lines of “Oh no, I don’t think I’m cute”

Pssshht! This is me we’re talking about – addressing someone who is likely ten years the junior of my own children. Modest? Demur? Me?–Never going to happen.

“Let me explain it to you this way – both of my parents brought nothing but beautiful children into this world and I’m an only child.”

She said nothing else to me, but from the murderous look that crossed her face, I think she got the point.

N’est-ce pas?

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Let’s see how others are getting through this 10th day  of the challenge:

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 10 – Two Writing Teachers

Being Present Is The Gift

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“Doing what we like is freedom, liking what we do is happiness”  as I hope most have noticed is the tag line of this blog. But it seems like I’ve been so busy chasing the funds to have the former, that there’s rarely any time left over to engage in the latter. And I know I’m not the only one.

We spend so much time getting ready to be happy and not enough actually being happy.

The poor are so busy trying to get money to be rich, because then they will be happy. The working poor, formerly known as the middle class, are so busy trying to keep and obtain more money to be happy.  The rich are so busy trying to to prove themselves worthy of having said money to be happy. Yet how many of them truly are?

Someone once asked the Dalai Lama, what surprised him most about humanity, he answered:

“Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

The Dalai Lama is very astute in his statement. In the bombardment of information, society, culture and idealism, I sometimes feel we’re slowly become something so homogeneous by silent consensus that we tend to lose that spirit which makes the individual so special. We mute the individual spirit that dares to pursue anything than what the masses have decreed should make us happy, when the masses themselves continually change the definitions.

Another favorite quote of mine: All are born originals: most die as copies.

Too many of us see ourselves through the eyes of others. And those eyes are most likely only viewing what they have been told to look at. When everyone is looking at the same things is anyone really seeing anything?

Android has a series of commercials out with the closing tag line of be together, not the same.  I think that also works in finding your own sustained happiness.

Life can be this amazing place full of light, happiness and serenity. Or it can be a dark place, full of drama and fear. It’s life, it holds all of these possibilities, but it’s up to you to choose what’s possible for yourself. And you must choose this for yourself everyday, sometimes several times a day.

When it comes down to the basics of life, we must remind ourselves of a few things:

We are alive.
The world does not make us.
We build our own kingdoms of spirit.
We build our own hearts.

Life can be a beautiful thing right here, right now, in the present, we just have to take a moment and keep reminding ourselves that.

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It’s Monday, let’s see how others are slicing it it this Day 7 of the challenge:

sol

Slice of Life Writing Challenge – Day 7 – Two Writing Teachers

 

City Gal Country Road

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Won’t deny it, I am mostly a city gal, born and raised and I love my gritty streets.  But in my youth I had me a good taste of some country days and ways. Many summers spent down in semi rural south in Grandma’s house, I learned me some things most city folks know nothing about.

Don’t know why, but there’s something about this time of year, this early spring that takes me back. . The trees are mostly gray, the very first hints of spring raising  from aground, yet that nip of winter making an appearance in the late nights. Yet I know summer’s not too long from coming.

And I’m reminded of being in the middle of a bench seat of pickup truck as a child. Or riding shotgun on a back road as a young teen. Riding hard somewhere that has never known the feel of asphalt with the spray of mud and gravel flying from beneath the tires. Oh and dappled sunlight filtered through a canopy of leaves, my hand out the window surfing the wind.

Yeah, sometimes this city girl craves a country road.

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Let’s see how others are slicing through what’s left of the weekend…

sol

Slice of Life Story Challenge – Day 6 | Two Writing Teachers

I Ain’t ‘Fraid of No Stereotype – I’m Pissed

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So the official trailer for the remake of Ghostbusters has hit the internet.

And I am pissed-off.

I fully understand this is a reboot of the original Ghostbusters and the new characters somewhat mirror their male counterparts from 1984, but in the original, when Ernie Hudson’s character Winston joins the group he comes in -more or less- as an equal partner to the three scientists. So what happened to Leslie Jones’ character Patty in this remake? As depicted in this trailer, I don’t see it. It’s looks more like they, the three white scientists, are the brains and she is the loud mouth brawn.

It is 2016 and the trope of the smart white guys and their “street-wise” black partner is just plain OLD. Gender swapping does not make it less noticeable. The –you three got all your degrees, but I got a Cadillac, I know NYC and I will slap the ghost out of you! – scenes of Patty, as shown in the trailer, play so heavily on the Loud/Streetwise Black Woman stereotypes that it is a neck roll and three finger snap in a Z formation away from looking racist.

It is bad enough that women of color are under represented in movies as is. When we do appear it is often as some stereotype. And after so many years of movie going it is so frustrating to see again and again and yet again. Would it really have been so far out of the movie going mindset that Leslie Jones portray one of the scientists and let’s say Kate McKinnon portray the streetwise one?

Maybe Patty will come off more as an equal in the overall arc of the movie, I really hope so, because the trailer clearly missed the mark in portraying such.

At least this iteration of Ghostbusters will pass the Bechdel Test.

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Let’s see how other are slicing it up this Saturday…

sol

Slice of Life Story Challenge – Day 5 | Two Writing Teachers

Chick Please

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I wear pantsuits for work, or at least dress slacks and a nice top. I dress womanly, feminine, but not necessarily girlie. That’s just not my everyday style. Generally, I’m a jeans and tee-shirt kind of gal.

But every now this thankfully only for a day-maybe two-phase comes over me where I want to wear a dress, curl my hair, put on make-up, yeah all the accoutrements involved.

It’s extra work and ninety percent of the time I think the only people who get it are those who know me well enough to appreciate the phenomena for what it is.  I refer to that as The Girl Won. Where the feminine aspect of me decidedly takes over my psyche and I’m going to dress like a girl today whether I like it or not. This morning was one of those mornings.

I had laid out my clothes for work last night. Jeans, because it will be casual Friday at work, (where even my boss will come in jeans and a sweatshirt now and then), my nice white and black blouse, my cropped black jacket… You know, lighter than professional casual but not I’m going to a picnic after work casual. I mean everything down to my lingerie was planned out for this morning. So why is it when I woke and looked at it hanging on the door my thought was uh no! ?

Aw crap The Girl woke up, noooo!

Sometimes I can fake her out, put on the clothes I initially chose anyway, just bling it out more than usual and she’s consoled enough to take it. I knew within fifteen minutes of clothing changes, there was no consoling her. Nothing I put on looked good to me until I pulled on the sweater dress.

Yup it was going to be a girl day. I could feel it – the whole kit and kaboodle was happening this morning. Hell the dress even has minute lines of pink in it! I conceded to defeat.

To add the true annoyance factor I stepped outside to snow.

Are you kidding me chick? You couldn’t have kicked in yesterday when the sun was out so bright, I needed sunglasses? No you show up today when there’s snow on the ground.

Yeah, that was my inner dialogue with my feminine side who pretty much shushed me with the reminder that it’s only snowing this morning. It will stop later and I will be looking great.

Ugh, Chick please, shut up!

I hate her, but she’s right, I do look great.  Happy Friday!

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Let’s see how others are slicing it up this Friday…

sol

Slice of Life Challenge – Day 4 | Two Writing Teachers

Ten Ticks…

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I’ve realized time has been a been a thing with me as of late. No, not as of late, that’s disingenuous, I’ve always had a thing about time. Especially around now, around early spring for the past few years, but really from around this time last year until now, I’ve been a little more hypersensitive to its passing because this year, specifically this day, holds a special bittersweetness.

For in a few short hours, it will be ten years to the day, to the moment I became a widow.

Within days of it I remember looking at a clock and calendar through tear-stained eyes, wondering exactly how I would feel right now.  I also recall when a few very short years ago I had posted on how weird I felt the first time I forgot this day and did not mark its passing somehow.

Honestly, were it not for the decade marker today would likely have passed as another ordinary day in moment of my life. No more or less important than when a couple of weeks ago I realized another date and casually threw a  “Happy Birthday Bill!” into the heavens while getting in the car with my best friend to go shopping. The thought coming and going as quickly as a finger snap.

All of those years we spent together
Well they’re part of my life forever
I hold the joy with the pain
And the truth is I miss you my friend

If time is a healer
Then all hearts that break
Are put back together again
‘Cause love heals the wound it makes
— Time Is A Healer / Eva Cassidy

And as I sit here typing, taking a moment to acknowledge this as I prep for training, I am happy to say I feel fine. Understandably wistful, but fine.

Time is indeed a healer.

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Let’s see how others are slicing up their day….

sol

Slice of Life Challenge Day 1| Two Writing Teachers