Finding Beauty Where E'er I Go

The seasons are in their transition, as is the political, sartorial and culinary climates of New York City. Soon, the fig tree that I walk under every day before I round the corner to my home block will fade away the scent of ripened mashed fruit underfoot with the autumn rains. The leaves tempt me to harvest for experimental pickles and dolmades. I must acquaint myself with its Jewish owners so that I don't feel like a vandal plotting to pick the fruit under cover of darkness next summer. They obviously have more than they ever care or want to pick for themselves. I guess for now I will have to be content with spritzing my Fresh Fig and Apricot parfum when the air has a familiar chill...

When the weather starts turning, I get more creative. I re-stock my spices that have been put to good use throughout the year, but also bring out the more traditional ones for cold weather cooking- cinnamon sticks, cloves, allspice for mulled wine and cider, pumpkin and squash-based foods. I raid the wild overgrown sage bush in the backyard, visions of crackly buttered sage in soups, roasted meats and hair vinegar rinses. I devote more time and budget as I can to roving the Brooklyn and Manhattan Farmer's Markets, checking off the staples- garlic, onions, plus varieties of apples and pears, farm eggs, dark leafy greens and a colorful pile of root vegetables with the highest vitamin and mineral content. This year, I have fallen in love with legumes all over again, and intend to put lentils through the recipe wringer along with some unusual grains, like amaranth and millet. At some point soon, I will buy my $7-$8 bunch of fresh eucalyptus to decorate, disperse the annoying closet-and-cupboard moths, and eventually serve as fragrant and potent inhalants for my seasonal sinus colds.

It was with this inventive spirit (and tormenting autumn illness) that I found myself in Tribeca yesterday, aiming to take mental and visual stock of items at my favorite health food store in Manhattan, Bell Bates. Imagine my deep confusion and sadness when I happened upon the raised steps, only to find a garishly incongruous Hallowe'en display inside the wide-open doors. Costumes and gimmicky ads included. Not a spice in sight. Mind you, I do consider myself a fan of Hallowe'en, since I have always liked to play dress-up and explore the deeper and darker side of my imagination since I was a sheltered, restricted child of The Church. But I was not prepared for this untimely assault, October or not. Not at my oft-visited haven for hard-to-find herbs and spices at affordable sampling (and hoarding) quantities! Where will I find a $3.99 4-ounce bag of everlasting flowers to try out a new tincture?? Who else had such an extensive array of seaweed products from more than one brand?? Why, oh why didn't I come in September like I planned to? The girl smacking her gum on her cell phone break outside saw my bereft state and informed me that Bell Bates closed up shop two months ago. The beginning of the summer was  last time I was in there (feeling guilty for buying too many things, but vowing to return in Sept nonetheless). They never mentioned anything in the store, even though I now see online everyone knew about this... People need to know how much of an institution this place was, family-run since 1885... but there is Whole Foods down the block to contend with, so I guess it was inevitable.

I could suck my teeth about that, but I will be positive and highlight the fact  that, call it what you like, WF was my next logical step for consolation. and to some degree, I was consoled. I happened upon a small display in the natural cosmetic section (my secondary obsession, after spices), where a lovely young lady and her older male assistant were rearranging their wares.

Daliia: The Science of Life, was set up to showcase sexy looking kohl eye makeup in vibrant metallic colors and amazing lipstick-style cases with retractable mirrors. My favorite, which I intend to purchase and wear the hell out of, was the Persian Gold Eye-Stick. There were also some natural-based lip stain pens, beckoning for a  pout. Since I have a love-fear relationship with any lipcolor more lingering than lipgloss, I feel confident that these stains are the perfect addition to my regimen. As I mentioned to Dalia, it is reminiscent of a simpler (and yet more subversive) time of the Middle Ages, where young women found inventive ways to have a beauty regimen in spite of strict religious and superstitious social directives. Ms. Dalia herself is a striking lass, all dark wavy tresses and a slightly classic ancient-beauty look to her. Although I was fighting a heavy disposition in my despair over Bell Bates and my sinus headache, I found myself talking to Dalia for about an hour about her line. I love that she is an independent gal touting "Ayurvedic Couture", and I tip my invisible fedora to a young person like myself who obviously values ancient ways with a fresh new delivery. She is doing something my grandmother did, my mother always dabbled in and I aspire to do a little bit more every day. There are very few artists, designers and purveyors of beauty that I feel compelled to mention in my blog as a direct inspiration and promotion, but I will say thank you to Dalia and Daliia, for giving me a ray of hope that all is not lost in this larger, ever-changing metropolis; that perseverance and creativity are still rewarding traits when one daydreams and fantasizes about a different way of life.

 

One small independent institution may have bowed out, but in its wake, may many more can and will crop up. And I will find them, and speak their name with a smile upon my lips, and a Persian gold rimming my eyes!

Day 12: My Ideal Life Narrative

In my everyday life I am getting up early and making time to meditate, to center myself and assess what the day's plan will be. I have my clear, organized workstation with my highly functional computer and camera and videorecorder (and portable tablet) ready for their assignments. I look at my calendar of upcoming events to attend and projects to continue or begin and my life is full and rewarding. I see my timeline carefully etched out where I see my financial goals coming together every small step of every day. I have side gigs that allow me to sing and travel with my singing group and grace whatever gathering we are scheduled to perform and interact with. We discuss the theme and intent behind our life's work and inspire others, or make collaboration connections. We may even be featured in a local documentary of college-based arts movement. I am using my ethnographic research skills to have people tell their own stories with me, to effect their pwn realities so others may hear and be informed.

I work on smaller projects instead of a long drawn-out endless repetition leading to no particular goal or resolution. I am in a space that promotes group project work, yet allows for individual innovation and creativity, whether it is brainstorming how to launch an education center in a village and managing the securing of local sponsorship and pride as well as outside influence. I have many pots simmering, not burning, on my innovative stovetop. I am not overwhelmed with searching for opportunities because they appear and connect before my eyes in my everyday interactions with people and events. They light up in colors as beacons on a postboard, saying, "hello, over here, this is you right here!"

I am not afraid of joining a group or committing to a board position where I feel that I have the authority and experience to lend my voice, my concentrated effort in whatever the task or oversight may require. I am writing my books, my poetry, my children's observation series, my family's biography. I am taking small trips to all the edges of the world that define my origins, and cataloguing the huge undertaking that made me who I am today. And publishing it. I have found an acceptable and non-dream-crushing solutin to my school loan debt and repaying or absolving it.

I am working with progressive Guyanese historians, writers and government officials to revamp the country's faltering education systems, providing (or coordinating) consultant services on infrastructure projects aimed at providing access and equal opportunities for all Guyanese and foreign visitors to Guyana, outside of political factions or agendas (a tall feat). I am a forerunner in attracting talent, intellect and people to Guyana for long-term, maybe permanent involvement in a new government, a new economy, a more vibrant and sustainable Guyanese ruling society.

I have a home in my native Guyana that I visit often and manage the land well. I hire a caretaker when I am on a work jaunt. I maintain a home in the United States somewhere, and I am also an active member in the watershed protection programs of New York State, for it is truly one of the most beautiful treasures I have come across, and I do have a strong sense of ownership and its continued health. In the winter I find myself in warmer climates on a development or language project, consulting or building. Sometimes I house-sit for a faraway friend to facilitate a fluid sense of where I belong, as well as a cheaper and more creative way to see other parts beyond.

I have a healthy space for appreciating good food and other creature somforts, whether it is a spa retreat or an investigative report on alternative living or homesteads. I am fascinated by those that successfully live off the grid in America or elsewhere, and am convinced that they could contribute to better living models for many others. I have a literal and a virtual library in every homestead I lay my head to rest. I challenge communities to be literate at all ages, and provide access to inspiring and progressive materials in multiple languages.

I make time for my friends local and global. I am adept enough in the latest communication technology that I can Skype call my uncle in the rainforest and videochat my niece in NC, or my sister in Brasil. My friends also come and visit me wherever I am stationed, so that there is a more balanced desire for each of us to be in each other's lives. I am not intruding and they are not going out of their way. I am comfortable around their kids and become that fabled "aunt" that goes everywhere with strange stories. I may have a child, but I don't see it happening in the next five years, not with this narrative, anyway. I may find a mate along the way, but he would have to be within the same field or frame of mind, doing something I aspire to do or am already capable of. I don't need to measure up to my mate, and he doesn't need to reign me in like an errant possession. My family will have come to terms to the roving in my spirit and my footsteps and those who would support and encourage me will look forward to my triumphant returns (and give me their numbers for the occasional late-night time zone phonecall!)

Day 12: Ideal Life Narrative