“I hate Sargent, I hate Sargent, I hate Sargent…” Startled, I turned around and discreetly observed the old man pacing Gallery 771. Of average height, wearing a long overcoat with large lapels that had seen better days, the disheveled white-haired man was walking back and forth, head low and shoulders slumped. He only stopped in … More On John S. Sargent’s Footsteps
I recently finished the 21-day meditation challenge by Deepak Chopra. Each day brought a thought, an exercise, a meditation session. One day, I had to reflect on all the challenges I had faced in my life, how I felt about them and how I recovered. The mantra of the day was “This too shall pass.” … More This Too Shall Pass
The old man, at the corner of Madison and 76th, was oblivious to the cars honking and the pedestrians rushing home in the drizzle of the early evening. He stood still, staring at the red and white demolition sign screaming “DANGER, KEEP OUT.” This intrusive, ugly sign was ordering him, Felix Menochon, to keep out … More Keep Out!
Ali caressed the curved, pear-shaped body, his fingers running over the fingerboard before resting on the short, delicate neck. The Cedar wood, cool to the touch, gave a beautiful, surprising deep sound that took him back to his childhood in Damascus every time he played a few notes. The Oud was a family affair. Ali’s … More An Ode to the Oud
As a child, I was the target of my mother’s wrath. Verbally, emotionally and physically abused, I was sent to bed without dinner because I wasn’t smiling at the dinner table. No tamales for me. I got the silent treatment, the cold shoulder, the emotional blackmail. On a good day, I was left alone. On … More The Reluctant Daughter
