Meet Canon's smallest 5 megapixel digital camera. I love it! It is my new take anywhere-and-every-where camera. The picture quality is excellent. I love its sleek compact design, large 2 inch LCD and features. The picture and sound quality in the movie mode is also one of the best I've seen. I highly recommend it.
I remember that last day in Cuba. My family and I walked down the streets of Havana on our way to the port where we would board a fishing boat, our destination, exile. Hundreds of my fellow country men yelled at us from behind lines of soldiers, clad in green. “Gusanos, escorias”, (worms, scum) they shouted at us in a repetitious chant. I couldn’t understand what we had done but it was clear to me that we were not welcomed. We were packed in ships our destination, freedom. Most of us were good hard working people seeking a second chance at attaining the American dream, that long gone Cubans had attained after the first exodus of the 50’s.
A week ago, I read a story by Damarys Ocaña in the New York Times. I identified with the descriptions of her newly arrived experience with other Cuban-Americans who were not stigmatized as “Marielitos”; the term given to the newly arrived flock of Cubans who were very different from the mass wave of professional upper-class Cubans that established themselves in the U.S. after Fidel came to power. I was laughed at, taunted, and the butt of many banana boat jokes. Once again, I found myself an outcast by my own people. I learned the difference between my family, who struggled to get ahead in the slums of North West Miami, and the established Cubans who had a twenty-plus year head start at accumulating wealth and mastering the adopted language. My identity was torn and laid on the fringes of parallel dichotomies. One fueled by a political ideological standing and the other by a misguided sense of American-ness, in a country that for the most part is still being built by immigrants.
Today I had a marathon of 5 star experiences :
11:30am
Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith
George Lucas does it again. Excellent!
3:00pm
Tao Restaurant
Umm, Manhattan dinning in a posh space that boosts a 30 foot Buddah. My kind of place. I highly recommend the peking duck spring roll appetizer and all the Martinis on the menu.
Pricy, Good service.
4:30pm
Four Seasons New York, 47th floor, room 4701. Talk about a view. Can I afford to live here year round? I got to check that with my finacial advisor.
6:00pm
Amazing! A beautiful exhibit that captures animal and human spirits in unison. The curation was beautiful, along the lines of industrial minimalism which made the images come alive. The exhibit will be in NY for a few more days and then its off to LA. For more info visit: www.ashesandsnow.com
I woke up way too early today. I was under the impression that I had to work early but forgot about that little last minuet schedule change. What does one do on a beautiful Saturday morning at around 8:30am? You turn on your music loud open up all your windows, sit out in your balcony and bid your neighbors good morning while sipping on coffee. I played a lot of albums and sang along, perhaps to loud. I am not a very good singer but that doesn’t stop me. I’m sure that innocent bystanders at earshot range cringed here and there whenever I missed a note. Too bad for them it makes me happy, you know what I mean? I have a pretty eclectic collection that represents my personality and play different genres depending on time of day, mood and situation.
Today’s 6 hour play list included:
Ella Fitzgerald, Verve CD-B.B. King, blues, Best of. Flair, -Sade, Promise-Erica Badu, first album-D’Angelo, Brown sugar-Louis Armstrong-Talib Kweli-Nina Simone -Miles Davis, blue note, Mos Def, Black star, Alanis Morissette, Unplugged-Fantasia-Al Green, the best of-Roberta Flack -Natalie merchant (various)-The Cure, Wish-Common, Resurrection, Aretha Franklin, Sings the Blue, Mary J Blige, My life….
Poor neighbors…
I sat on the bench and looked across the platform at them, all caught up in each other. They were the elderly couple who lived in the small red brick building on my block. He sported the same old heavy wool coat and hat that he always wore. She wore stockings that were beginning to lose elasticity, Mary-Jane shoes that seemed too youthful on her and a coat stained by age. They sat holding hands. I always marveled at them walking down the streets holding hands as if they were young lovers who recently met and were yet unable to get enough of each other. This phase however seemed to be constant for them. I was moved by them but their happiness caused a feeling of unease inside me. I worried that such a test-of-time-winning alliance as theirs might not be in store for me. It saddened me a great deal and resulted in a reflective pout.
Several stops later, I noticed a baby who leapt towards her unready and unsuspecting mother, who barely caught her in time to save her from mishap. I couldn’t help but to wonder how blind that baby’s trust was in her mother. Love completely drove her, without a second thought because she understood love and love would catch her, as it did. How long would it be before that child begins to lose faith in love, begin to question potential, and hesitate before the leap? How long have I been hesitating?
I realized that these were things I had been pondering as of late but it hit me hardest that day on that very ride. I got off the train, walked across the platform, caught a train back home, put on bluesy jazz, sat in the bathtub and managed some tears. I didn’t like the person I was becoming, less and less trustful of people and happy endings. You see, I was trying something new; for the first time in a long time I became preoccupied with the process of self love and self healing. This in turn required me to take time alone, which only lessened the few friends I had or was making, and incidentally made me feel even more alienated. Alienation is different when given rather than self sentenced. It was a double edge sword that I am still swallowing. How does one get here? Well…
I spent the better part of the afternoon taking pictures for the Japanese T-Shirt company that my friend photographs for annually. I had mixed feelings about the entire experience. The photographer texted me earlier today and ask if I were available and interested in helping him. I agreed since I already had agreed to the two previous years. However, based on my lack of attention to the actual text message, I was under the impression that he meant later this week and not on this very day. So after three hours of roller-blading and dodging past all sorts of hazardous city obstacles, crossing the Queens Borough Bridge into and out of Manhattan, braving 70 percent of Central Park, and finally not feeling up to anything other then soaking my feet in a hot Epson salt bath, I half heartedly felt obliged to agree to the cameras flash and make up for the two hours that he sat waiting, while I was lost in textlation.
The shirts by the way were hideous. They were something that one would pick up at a truckers rest stop in Alabama and most held the esthetic equivalent of the beer glorification and just-shoot-me-happy-face-with-gun-hole t-shirts of the early 80's. Trust me you feel very awkward wearing a tee sporting a huge biohazard sign in the middle of the square during these conflicting times and owning a good Muslim name such as mine; Catholic or not. It sucked because we were testing slow shutter camera speeds, which meant that I had to stand perfectly still as a curious world passed me by wondering who the heck this too-short-for-a-runway model was and why in hell did he have such an ugly shirt on. So as my Tarsus and Metatarsals eased back into comfort, I stood in Times Square, self conscious at the people wondering what the Japanese photographer and that underdressed Hispanic boy, with nipples on high alert were doing taking pictures in the middle of the hustle and bustle of this chilly neon lite Tuesday.
The worst part: I still have more pictures to look forward tomorrow.
This was sketched by my friend Kal somewhere out near the Pacific.
I think its a great sketch.
(Samoan:)
Me ke aloha pumehana. Fa'afetai tele.
Ai Polo lou tina... :0)
