Yesterday evening, my mother informed me that the graceful, beautiful Jasmina, who had touched the hearts of so many with her brave struggle against cancer, had passed away on Thursday. I had no clue. So, I searched online and sure enough, there I found the unexpected news:
I'm not the most eloquent at the moment, but it was truly amazing to witness how this six-year old girl inspired so many. One can make a difference. I hope we don't forget this....
I send thoughts of loving kindness to her mother, family, and friends.
This coming week I have a number of little projects that are due, so I plan to stay in this weekend to work on them. However, I spent a bit of yesterday evening (day +885) back on the Washington Bridge seeking to improve my earlier shots of the rush hour traffic across the Harlem River.
After visiting a colleague after work on Friday who has been ill , I rushed to the 103rd Street subway station to catch the 1 train uptown to W. 181st Street. I was running a bit late. I had planned to be at the station a bit earlier, but had left work late. Sunset was set for 5:01 pm, so I was hoping to be at my shooting spot at least 15 minutes prior, although in reality the captivating colors of the dusk sky aren't at their peak until about 15 minutes after the sun goes down.
When photographing dawn or dusk, preparation is very important. Ideally, one wants to be at their shooting spot at least 15 minutes before the scheduled sunset in order to scout the scene out (especially if its a first-time visit) and setup the necessary camera equipment. During dawn and dusk, the magical light is fleeting. One has only a couple of minutes to capture the setting in optimal lighting. So, if one can arrive at the location in time to prepare without worry that's huge.
I arrived at my spot on the Washington Bridge at just about 5:01pm and was able to set up my camera and tripod rather quickly. So, in the end, there wasn't a problem. I stood there waiting a bit before the full splendor of the twilight evening was manifested. And I was lucky this evening, because the sky was especially lovely. Violet, orange, and yellow hues enveloped the cityscape.
I like this image of the streaking lights a lot, but it's not as sharp as I want. It's blurry due to shaking. I'll definitely be back for a retake. The greenish light in the distance to the left is the Empire State Building. Pretty neat, heh?
One of the great features of the Washington Bridge is that unlike most of the city's bridges, there are sections of its pedestrian walkways which offer unobstructed views. It's a gem in terms of shooting opportunities.
In other news, Sloan updated the banner of their Living Beyond Cancer website. At the top of the page, you'll see me grinning beside a very close family friend. Check it out!
Saturday I had a fun time photographing. A few weeks had passed since I last did any shooting.
That morning I visited the nearby Tree Museum mural at 166th and the Grand Concourse, which is less than a block from the Bronx Museum of the Arts.
The mural had been on my list of subjects to photograph for sometime, but I just hadn't gotten around to it. The mural and the Tree Museum project were commissioned to celebrate the centennial anniversary of the Grand Concourse in 2009.
The image below is one segment of the mural. In my opinion, its most beautiful.
Saturday evening I headed up to the Bronx side of the Washington Bridge at 181st Street to do a retake of an image I last shot with my old camera back in July 2008. The improvement in the quality of the image is so pronounced this time around. The color is so vibrant!
BMT InfoNet is sponsoring Celebrating a Second Chance at Life, a national symposium where survivors and family members can learn how to manage medical and emotional issues that arise after transplant.
This symposium will take place in Boston from March 20-21, 2010.
After work on Friday, I headed downtown to check out the MOMA's Bauhaus: Workshops for Modernity, 1919 - 1933, a fascinating retrospective of the cultural and political history of this famous artistic movement.
Admission is free after 4pm on Fridays, so the museum was packed but I was able to explore the entire exhibition without a problem. I still haven't seen the Tim Burton show there, but it will continue to April, so I have time.
Yesterday as I was browsing Lonely Planet's website for some information, I came upon the following video and essay about the beautiful but largely ignored Manhattan Bridge, one of the four major East River crossings.
I obviously missed the New Year's Eve party celebrating the Manhattan Bridge's 100th birthday. Maybe I'll join the fête for its 101st!
i2y is hosting its first ever stupid cancer winter wonderland cancerversary party on January 14th at 7pm at Mary O's in Manhattan. There's no cover! So stop by, meet others, and have fun!
This afternoon, I received the results about last week's tests from my nurse practitioner. The PFT was just fine. In fact, my lungs are stronger now than they were in 2007 when I last performed this test in preparation for my allogeneic stem cell transplant. And according to the bone density test, my Vitamin D measured 25.8, which is not bad, but the ideal, she told me, is 30. I was encouraged to continue using OSCAL Calcium Supplement with Vitamin D daily but also a separate Vitamin D supplement with a dosage of 1,000 international units per day.
Well, the end of the break is here. I return to school tomorrow. But it has been a pretty good one.
Before New Year's, I and friend went to the Guggenheim where we explored the grand Kadinsky exhibition. In fact, we didn't even get a chance to see everything but we got pretty close. Having started our tour at the end of the exhibition where the crowds were thinner, we quickly developed a fondness for the graceful geometrical and biological themes in his later work.
His earlier paintings didn't pull as nearly as much. But again, had we started at the beginning of the exhibition our opinions might be different.
Avatar was pretty wild. A friend and I saw it in 3D a few days ago.
There were a number of things that I didn't get around to doing, such as reading more, but as Dr. R told me recently, that's alright. I had given my all to this new teaching position and needed some time to just chill during this break. This is a reminder to me that sometimes it can be difficult for me to just be still. Most times, I have this kinetic impulse to do something (and do it exceptionally well) all the time.
As my life has become more "normal," the raw and piercing sensitivity that my cancer experience engendered has softened. Occupied now more by the challenges and responsibilities of normalcy than cancer, I can see where in some corners of my life that insatiable hunger has changed. For example, when it comes to my photography project I no longer am as eager to go out in the cold, dark morning at 5:30 for a twilight shoot. I'd rather sleep and stay warm. Now this doesn't mean I wouldn't do this, because I still do but the urgency to do it as often as I did immediately after my transplant has waned.
It is remarkable how when death is so close one cuts through all the crap in their life and begins to harness their inner strength to focus on those issues which mean the most. Openness and clarity emerge where it didn't exist before. Newly discovered paths lead to unimagined destinations. New found courage and perseverance help to restore one's hope. New found pleasures turn a frown into a smile. Appreciation for the frailty and preciousness of life begin to cultivate a new consciousness for how to live.
In life, change is indeed the one true constant. The challenge, I suppose, is to be aware of this cosmic truth and then, to try to be as malleable through life's certain turns and dips while keeping that incandescent flame of youthful courage, openness, and optimism alive.
In this new year of endless possibility, I wish everyone the happiness that they seek.
About two weeks ago, the NYT published a very cool article reviewing some of the memorable buzzwords of the year. The "Dracula sneeze" is one of my favorites.
I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma in late 2003, but it wasn't until after learning about my first relapse in the summer of 2005 at which time I discovered the dozens of inspirational stories of other survivors on the Internet that I decided to make this blog a reality. Since 2007, I've been cancer-free. I hope that cancer survivors and their families will be able to take something from this that will help them in their own journey.
"That is the
charm of a map. It represents the other side of the horizon where
everything is possible."
"We need the
possibility of escape as surely as we need hope; without it the life of the
cities would drive all men into crime or drugs or
psychoanalysis."
