Alice in Wonderland

The plush blanket of down-like snow has fallen off.
The stoic trees standing guard with icicles as fingers, now sway in the breeze.
Chirping birds are back performing their specialized responsibilities - gathering food, building nests or repairing those that were damaged in the harshness of winter.
Their soprano melodies blend with the symphony of city sounds -
the bass sounds of the trains and heavy sanitation trucks,
the paced intonation of the Latin and Caribbean conversations,
the trumpeting whoop of the ambulances,
and the other vehicles providing the octave variances depending on their engines,
with an occasional violin-like screech.

With a childlike innocence, I am experiencing life in Brooklyn for the first time,
soaking in every sensory experience
and filing it into my creative memory.
I see the philharmonic synchronization of city sounds,
the artistry in the graffiti murals
and the theatrical nuances of the subway rides.

I am a Brooklyner, a New Yorker, an artist at home in the nucleus of creativity.

Transitions

Starting all over can give one a myriad of emotions - ranging from the exhilaration of new beginnings and hopes of great accomplishments to the nerve-wracking angst of being accepted in a new environment or recognized for past accomplishments or even being acknowledged at all.

It seems like my whole life can be summed up by this quote attributed to Darwin: "It is not the strongest species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most responsive to change." My life has had its share of change all right, some circumstantial, some internal and some by happenstance. Some may look at my resume and see a transient, while others who have more of an analytic bent may see the richness of my experience and my ability to succeed regardless of the environment I am thrown into or dive into.

I am not one to live my life looking in the rear view mirror. At the end of each day, I analyze how I spent my day, what I could have done better, what I did well and then move on. Occasionally, I may visit the archives of my memory for a nostalgic walk or looking through my "internal files" for some help on solving a problem or handling a relationship. For my memory archives have been well stocked with experiences and reading and serve as a great resource.

Standing at the cross-roads once again - in a new city, looking for acceptance as an accomplished professional, I have experienced the full gamut of emotions. Something tells me that my survival instincts and optimism honed through spiritual faith will serve me well. It is patience that I still have to learn. I am here for a purpose and I must keep my eye on that horizon. I will not let the ink dry for I have portraits and landscapes to paint, emotions to evoke, responses to elicit.

Ted Kennedy's words echo in encouragement, "The dream lives on."