a woman on the subway platform at 96th street

You can never go back. You see a young woman in scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck and you remember the year you spent in that outfit. The days you wore it out on the lunch hour because you liked experiencing the little kindnesses shopkeepers, strangers showed someone they perceived to be a caretaker. The lunch with Jimmi at Fred 62 when he said, "are you working at a hospital now?"
Not exactly.
My longest-straight employment to date was at Talmadge studios in LA, the set was Seattle Grace hospital, and my employer was Touchstone TV. It was a hard job in a way, long hours that often started before the sun came up but the people I worked with were lovely and the pay was decent. Like most 'money' jobs I've held it had the attractive quality of lots of down-time for reading, writing, and thinking. Among the more exciting elements of the job I got to watch two great DPs work: Tim Suhrstedt and Adam Kane, and do funny things like lie in bed with Patrick Dempsey, and dance with Katie Heigl, Sandra Oh, TR Knight and Ellen Pompeo. I stay in touch with the other stand-ins Eriko, Val and Kelly periodically and think of them more often.
It's amazing how much another person-- a complete stranger- can remind you of a moment, now long gone, from your own life.

thank goodness for little girls

I have been feeling a little down lately but am so grateful to Erica for reminding me of this young lady, who brings a smile to my face and a twinkle to my eye every time I so much as think of her.
magic girl

I hope she works the same magic on you.

Also, she always reminds me of the part in The Devil Wears Prada where Miranda (Meryl Streep) and Nigel (Stanley Tucci) school Andy (Anne Hathaway) on how she came to be wearing the color blue she's wearing and how fashion is not shallow or elitist but culturally interconnected and global and really very meaningful.

silence

My friend sent me an extraordinary article called The End of Solitude. I think it is definitely worth reading.

It also got me thinking about how I really enjoy solitude, and often feel like that is one of the qualities few of my peers share. Something that makes me 'weird.' I don't mind feeling weird though. Also, I thought about how most of my favorite books center around character's who are struggling with being alone versus being 'attached.' Siddhartha, Leaves of Grass, A Moveable Feast, The Road.

I am riding on the bus to Boston at the moment and feeling very cocooned in my foliage-staring, computer-reading, This American Life-listening bubble. I know I am technically connected, and I'm certainly in a crowded group environment, and yet I still feel like I am garnering the benefits of solitude. If nothing else I think living in a city teaches you to access and protect the state of solitude, the mental experience of it-- even without being technically alone.


In memory of Dr. David Musto, who passed away yesterday. He was a great man who well understood the infinite value of solitude. I remember fondly sitting in the house in Williamstown this past summer and listening to Dr. Musto and Jean's ideas for possible Broadway musicals. Dr. Musto, you will be missed.

where I'm at today

I think the pictures speak for themselves.
I am a very lucky lady.


Thank you Liz Engleman and the Tofte Lake Center for bringing Emily Conbere and I out to a cabin on your Boundary Waters, taking away our cell and internet vices, and giving us a week of the most stunning quiet to work on our play.

And thank you Tucker Hollingsworth for your absolute picture-perfect proof of the beauty.

"we used to write letters"

Arcade Fire continues to be one of the most inventive and brilliant collections of artists around. I love their new album (especially "We Used to Wait" and "Sprawl II") and this is probably the coolest video I've ever seen.
You enter the address of the house where you grew up. And you get your very own video.
It's incredible.
Check it out.

http://thewildernessdowntown.com/

Happy Labor Day while we're at it! Try to make it to a park/backyard today and indulge in some food that comes in buns, chip-eating, white-clothes-wearing, and other summer activities. Today is officially the unofficial end of summer.

lemonade

It's been rainy lately but the sun is starting to come out... which means... there might be...


He is very, very excited. And I love that.

this is a moment for a great speech

Dear President Obama,
Yesterday afternoon I had lunch with several older folks-- a brilliant and thoughtful 72 year-old among them (who as a young man had written his thesis under the mentorship of Mr. H. Kissinger). Before lunch began our host shared with us several news stories he'd printed out from the internet. I was horrified to learn that there are churches across the country holding 'Burn the Qu'ran Parties' on September 11th in protest of the so-called Ground Zero Mosque in Lower Manhattan. I was also frustrated with myself for being so consumed in my own personal bubble that the most I had engaged with this issue was appreciating a detail of FOX's hypocrisy that Jon Stewart had pointed out on The Daily Show a few nights before.
We were all united in our horror and the older folks at the table went on to discuss the intense need for a great speech right now. Having lived through the Kennedy years, the Civil Rights Movement, and Vietnam-- I realized how powerful a role great speeches have played in highlighting atrocities (as well as the redress of grievances) for this older generation-- and I tried to remember the great speeches that have played a role in the shaping of my social conscience. Your speech on Race in Philadelphia from 2008 is probably the speech of my life so far. (I was born in 1980.) I wrote about it here and think about it at least once or twice a week.
I know you are swamped and you are taking a much-needed vacation at the moment but I ask you to please consider making a speech about this issue. I live in New York now and I lived in NYC on 9/11 and I can assure you this Community Center would be a wonderful source of pride for most New Yorkers.
I'm sure you read it already but since this is an open letter-- I found Frank Rich's op-ed quite insightful. Read it here.
Thank you for your time.
Best,
Adrienne