A 2007 entry in my journal
I wrote the below in my journal (see image above) a couple of months after I moved to New York.
“handmade life” implies something individualized, not mass-produced or machine-animated for the general population. “handmade” implies something genuine and stitched together with care. Choosing harmonious elements and weaving them together slowly, sometimes pricking your/my forefinger and letting the blood color a small corner of the finished product. Continue reading
9/12/2007
On the rooftop
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All I remember is the sentence ended, “at least that’s what I like to tell myself.” Something about not being sad because we’ll be older and wiser and more prepared than we would have been had we found our other halves sooner.
But still the message from one of those others, an other who might have been, confirms those thoughts. I’m not the only one who thinks it. Continue reading
Who am I?
Don’t we all ask ourselves that from time to time?
Some of us are luckier than others. We know our purpose; we know why we were put here and what our cells are made of. At our hearts, even when shaken and broken down, we know we can return to ourselves and find some strength within. In those times, we’re in search of bedrock. A foundation for something pure, secure and steady. Continue reading
If you’re on the friends list, then you get my (usually) daily mini-blog via bulletin called “The Happy Five.” [NOTE: This blog was originally published on MySpace.] It’s just a list of five things that made me happy on that particular day. They range from the mundane (like the enduring mystery of the “knork” aisle in my little bodega of a grocery store) to the “that-could-only-happen-to-Emily-in-NYC” type things (like my once or twice a month run-ins with champagne, cupcakes and Google engineers). I’m re-posting today’s list here as an homage to all my friends who opted to stay in today, away from the rain or snow, just veggin’ out. Continue reading
“Burke said there were Three Estates in Parliament; but, in the Reporters’ Gallery yonder, there sat a Fourth Estate more important far than they all. It is not a figure of speech, or a witty saying; it is a literal fact, very momentous to us in these times.
Literature is our Parliament too. Printing, which comes necessarily out of Writing, I say often, is equivalent to Democracy: invent Writing, Democracy is inevitable . . . It matters not what rank [the reporter] has, what revenues or garnitures. The requisite thing is that he have a tongue which others will listen to; this and nothing more is requisite.” – Thomas Carlyle.
The day I signed my employment agreement for my new job, I posted a late-night bulletin [on MySpace] with a brief mention of how I sealed the deal. Continue reading
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