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Eyes Mind Heart

Barbara Kruger installation at MoMA

We hear all the time about the mind/body connection. What about the New York eye/brain/heart connection?

I recently returned from another fabulous trip to see my sons who live in New York. The City is jam-packed with everything. Everything. Okay, there are no mountains, so everything but mountains. Whenever I go, I’m met with a muchness that invigorates first my eyes, then my brain, and then my heart. Looking at something like that amazing Barbara Kruger installation (above), I feel my eyes widen and my brain open right up. And after that, my heart. Love. There is so very much to love.

The fashions!

Honestly, you don’t need to step into a museum to get the eye/brain/heart love. It’s in the street art, the hilarious or heartbreaking signs and graffiti, the juxtaposition of trees with skyscrapers, the many beautiful parks, the skyline at night, old and new buildings standing right next to each other, the beautiful bridges, loads of short-legged dogs, wild Halloween decorations on the beautiful brownstones, the surprise of sculpture in subway stations, even the digital (no longer neon) craziness of Times Square, and of course the fashions! All of it, so inspiring! So energizing! Nourishment for the eye. Eye to brain to heart.

I never fail to come home full of possibility and light, eyes stuffed with color and wonder, a serotonin-filled brain imagining all kinds of projects and pursuits, a heart full of love for my own sons and, too, for all of those enterprising, creative individuals who make New York the remarkable place it is.

Begging the question: What will I do with all of this energy coursing through my creative brain, more than a week later? We shall see.

Sure, the City would feel quite different were my sons not there with me, and I’m sure NYC has its share of lonely people, not to mention desperate and homeless. But for me, lucky as I am and for a week or so, it is a fat purse that never empties.

“I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world’s greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.” – Nora Ephron

“New York is not a city. It’s a world.” – Iman

“When it’s 100 degrees in New York, it’s 72 in Los Angeles. When it’s 30 degrees in New York, in Los Angeles it’s still 72. However, there are 6 million interesting people in New York, and only 72 in Los Angeles.” – Neil Simon

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Painting the Sunrise

So now there is a woman with a brain tumor

who ever after paints the sunrise every every day

up before dawn to paint the sunrise for whatever reason

this thing in her brain has wrought this change and

changed her life’s direction to record this small

beginning the relentless never flagging sun waking

the sleeping world day after day and she along with it

painting and painting again and painting again.

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People

The thing is this:  a person sitting at a table

eating a peach maybe a small bowl of rice

various thoughts and ideas traveling through her brain

suddenly realizes that every other person

too has a brain occupied in more or less

the same way the difference being that

whatever riffles through one remains

shuttered up unbudging in another or

yet becomes tangled in a sort of chaos

in still an Other and so on differing

to the point of mystery

so that each to the other is only

a map of a territory at best

which gives no indication of

what the houses there are like

who lives in them

what they’ve planted in their yards

how narrow or wide their streets are

and whether or not their loved children

are safe to play and wander as they’d like.