Marcia Mayne travels a world full of books, music, art, fun people and great food. She raves about them constantly. Currently, she is journeying through Jamaica, her home country, to discover the places she missed.
I saw Abbey Lincoln perform at the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts years after I had become a fan. (The juxtaposition of the names Abbey Lincoln and the Lincoln Center caused me to question myself for a second.)
Abbey Lincoln courtesy of thegrio.com
She was wiry and dynamic. I can still hear her voice, strong and smoky, as she came on stage. In my mind, I sang along to some of my favorites but soaked in every second of her nuanced performance.
Born Anna Marie Wooldridge in Chicago (1930), Abbey Lincoln was a songwriter, activist and actress. She was married to drummer, Max Roach. Abbey Lincoln was 80 years old when she died last year in New York.
As you may know, the city of Manhattan is laid out in a grid pattern. Twice a year, when the sun sets, it aligns perfectly with the east-west grid of certain main streets: 14th, 23rd, 34th, 42nd and 57th Streets.
During Manhattanhenge, a viewer on one of these streets can watch the sun setting directly opposite in New Jersey.
Astrophysicist, Neil deGrasse Tyson of the American Museum of Natural History is credited with popularizing this phenomena.
This year, according to Dr. deGrasse Tyson, the remaining dates for Manhattanhenge July 11th and 12th (it was also possible to see it on May 30th and 31st). On July 11th, the full sun will be visible on the horizon, whereas on July 12th, only half will be seen.
So, if you’re in or around New York City in July, make sure to look out for Manhattanhenge.
But Manhattanhenge is not limited to Manhattan alone. According to Wikipedia, Chicagohenge will happen on September 25th, Torontohenge on October 25th, and Montrealhenge on July 12th.
I wasn’t sure I had photos for this week’s challenge but I know now not to dismiss the challenge before looking through my collection. Sure enough, I found several photos.
So here are my photos and my thoughts on numbers.
Numbers follow us everywhere we go. When we’re born, our birth announcements include the dates and times of birth and the number of pounds we weighed. Even our names can be reduced to a number. Mine’s 5. Do you know what yours is? If you don’t, you can find it here.
Most of have numbers in our street addresses, social security and telephone numbers. Some people have favorite numbers and numbers that they play. What’s your favorite number?
These are just a few examples of the impact and importance of numbers in our lives. We just can’t escape them!
Here’s my take on this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge: Numbers.
St. Paul's Cathedral - MaynefotoHabana 1791 - MaynefotoCape Numbers - Maynefoto500 steps down, many more to go. Eiffel Tower steps - MaynefotoOne Hundred Trillion Dollars - Maynefoto
How do you numbers affect your life? Please share!
When the weather turns hot, all I want to do is drink – water, mostly – and eat light, very light.
One of my favorite light meals is gazpacho, a cold soup that I was introduced to in Spain, that is made from fresh tomatoes and chopped raw vegetables.
It’s my summer meal lifesaver. This recipe that I found on spain-recipes.com comes closest to the way I make mine.
Traditional Gazpacho Soup
Cold tomato soup
21 oz. of tomato (chopped)
2 cloves of garlic
2 onions (chopped)
2 red and green peppers
1 cucumber (optional)
7 tablespoons of oil
2 tablespoons of vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoon of water
Cumin (optional)
2 tablespoons fresh parsley to garnish
Preparation
In a big mortar mash cumin and garlic. In a plastic bowl, mix the chopped onion, chopped tomato, oil, vinegar, salt and the contents of the mortar. Pour half of the chopped mixture in a food processor (or blender) add very cold water and blend. Add salt and the remaining chopped mixture, mix and pour into a glass or other non-metal, non-reactive container. Keep it in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours (longer is better) to let the flavors blend. Garnish with parsley. Serve chilled.
Can be served with diced, toasted bread or avocado wedges.
Note: I prefer to use a mortar but a blender or food processor works as well. If you like it chunky like I do, set it to chop, not puree or liquefy.
Located across the Hudson River, Newark is the largest city in New Jersey and the third oldest of the major cities in the United States. Not a typical or popular tourist destination, Newark has plenty to offer.
With a population of more than 270,000, it is one of the state’s most ethnically diverse cities with African-Americans, Hispanics, Native Americans, Asians, etc. A significant Brazilian and Portuguese population is concentrated in the Ironbound district, also called “Little Portugal.” Ironbound is known for its European feel, restaurants and the annual Portuguese Festival which is held in June.
Basilica of the Sacred Heart
Five Things to Do in Newark –
New Jersey Performing Arts Center (NJPAC) – Home of the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra, NJPAC is the sixth largest performance arts center in the U.S.
Newark Symphony Hall – the oldest and largest showcase for the arts in New Jersey. (I saw a concert there sometime ago. Tickets for the same show at Rockefeller Center in NY was way more expensive!)
Newark Museum – New Jersey’s largest museum of the arts and natural sciences
Institute of Jazz Studies – Located at the Newark campus of Rutgers University, it is the largest and most comprehensive library and archive of jazz and jazz-related materials in the world
Newark is approximately only 8 miles from New York City and easily accessible via New Jersey Transit. By train to Newark’s Penn Station or Newark Liberty International Airport if you fly in.
Memorial Day is the day set aside to remember the those men and women who have died for this country.
Personally, I’m conflicted about war but I’m clear about this: It isn’t the war, it’s the people – fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts and cousins – who matter. They matter because of the sacrifice they make.
I visited to Arlington National Cemetery twice when I lived in Washington, D.C. The first thing that struck me were the rows and rows of pearly headstones — stretching as far as my eye could see — set atop a carpet of lush green grass. As I walked around, I was struck by the eerie silence that hangs like a blanket over the cemetery. I found myself whispering when there was no need to. As if talking would be irreverent.
As far as I know, I don’t know anyone who’s buried at Arlington but I know it’s an honor to be.
And having lost close family members, I can imagine the grief their loved ones feel.
Years ago, when a holiday was declared to honor Martin Luther King, many of my friends said we had to make sure that the day didn’t turn into a day for sales.
I’m not sure when Memorial Day weekend became known as the unofficial start of summer or when Memorial Day evolved into a day for sales but to my mind it cheapens the memory of those who paid the ultimate sacrifice.
Arlington National Cemetery is open 365 days a year. From 8 a.m. to 7 p.m. from April to September and from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. from October to March.
I’ve been an Aretha Franklin fan for a long time. I thought I had heard every song she’s sung.
Aretha Franklin - photo courtesy of clashmusic.com
One morning, I heard a DJ mention an Aretha song that, in his estimation, was one of her best. But, he added, wasn’t as well known as her others. He played the song and I had to agree. It was Ain’t No Way.
I went out that same day and bought the cassette tape (yeah, it was that long ago. I still have it!), played it over and over in the car on the way home and for months later. It captured my imagination.
Ain’t No Way
Ain’t no way for me to love you,
if you won’t let me.
It ain’t no way for me to give you all you need,
if you won’t let me give all of me.
I know that a woman’s duty is to help and love a man,
and that’s the way it was planned.
Oh, but how can I, how can I, how can I
give you all the things I can,
if you’re tying both of my hands?
Oh, it ain’t no way (ain’t no way).
It ain’t no way (ain’t no way).
It just ain’t no way, baby (ain’t no way).
Ain’t no way baby (ain’t no way).
It ain’t no way for me to love you,
if you won’t let me.
Stop trying to be someone you’re not.
How cold and cruel is a man
who pay too much for what he got?
And if you need me to love you, say, say you do.
Oh, then baby, baby, baby don’t you know that
I need you.
Oh, Oh, it ain’t no way.
I’ll tell you that it ain’t no way,
It ain’t no way.
It ain’t no way, baby, no.
It just ain’t no way.
It sure ain’t no way
It ain’t no way for me to love you,
if you won’t let me…
Aretha will be performing in July at Nikon at Jones Beach Theater in Babylon, NY. I would love to see her again but I doubt I’ll be able to. If I had my choice, though, I’d see her in a more intimate setting.
Sometimes, the best photos are the ones imprinted on our minds. They capture more than just the images.
That thought was in my mind as I looked through my collection to select the photos for this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge. There’s an image related to water that I wish I had captured on film so I could share.
Fountain at the Louvre - Maynephoto
Some people can’t live without the mountains, I can’t live without water. I love looking at, playing in and being around it. But from time to time, I get so caught up in the everyday that I forget that I need water to wash away the rough edges, to balance and smooth me out. Sometimes, I even forget that I actually live on an island and am therefore surrounded by water.
I remember the day several years ago when I jumped into a cab in a mad rush to get to Penn Station. I was late and pressed the driver to hurry. I could feel the tension in my body when I settled into the back seat.
As the cab zoomed crosstown, I became so overwhelmed by the worry that I wouldn’t make the train that I was oblivious to everything around me. When the car turned onto the West Side Highway, something caused me to look up.
There it was. The Hudson River. I fell silent as I stared at the water, deep blue and sparkling under the mid-day sun. My worry fell away and a calm washed over me. I continued to stare even as we turned off the highway.
More thoughts on the significance of water came to me as I sifted through my photos. I used to reject anything that came easily. Life was about struggle. Swimming upstream meant whatever was achieved was worth it. Then I realized how sweeter it is to be in alignment with one’s purpose and go with the flow.
I was looking out the window in the kitchen of my uncle’s house in Canada when the scene changed and I was standing on the beach in Jamaica that I used to go as a child. I was near a sea grape tree, looking towards the ocean. I could taste and smell the sea and raised my hand to shade my eyes from the sun dancing on the waves. Suddenly, I was back in the kitchen but overwhelmed by homesickness. I decided to go home and did the next morning.
I spent a beautiful week with the only grandfather I knew. He died a week to the day I arrived.
Me, a teenager, sneaking off to the river with friends when my mom said not to leave the house and almost getting carried away by the current. I stopped struggling and floated to the surface.
Going to Coney Island Beach one rainy Thanksgiving Day. Passing the changing area and stepping onto the sand to the sound of the waves as they crashed ashore, the birds calling to each other and feeling at peace. I cried that day on the beach, in the rain. For joy.
