Went for my usual long walk with the walking group and totally wiped out. I guess it was too soon to do it. I spent the rest of the day wiped out. Tomorrow will be better.

Here are a few more photos from New York, from my birthday. This is Julia, who has just lost a lot of weight.

On our way to the theater we stopped at the Renaissance Hotel in Times Square to use the facilities. I fell in love with this basin in the ladies room, and didn't realize I was in the picture when I took it. So this is my birthday portrait.

While we were waiting for the play to begin I saw this wonderful image in the lobby mirrors. I wish there had been more light so the picture would be sharp.

I put my foot in it, sent an email to Ronni Bennett about John McCain’s age and she wrote another of her well reasoned posts about why it doesn’t matter. Perhaps she is right–I know that we each age differently and have different capacities.

I know that talking about the difficulties of aging gives fodder to the makers of ageist jokes and fuels ageism. But why is it OK to talk about the changes that occur between the ages of 10 and 20, but not about between 50 and 60, or 60 and 70. Just as puberty brings changes, some good, some not so good, aging does the same.

I am not the same person I was at 50. And what may be amazing to younger people: many of those changes have been for the better. I am happier, more accepting of myself, more able to accept change (three career changes and three relocations in the last twenty years), and contrary to popular understanding, more able to take risks. Yes, I have aches and pains; when I was younger I had migraines and menstrual pains. And yes, I have had problems, but I am more able to cope with them, more in command of my life, as evidenced by those career changes and relocations.

I think it is important to talk about these things our culture deems unmentionable, such as aging and death. Acknowledging aging and talking about it openly and honestly would make much more sense than our pursuit of the the fountain of youth.

Ronni Bennett is taking a survey of elder bloggers and blog readers. If you are over fifty, please take the survey, even if you are a reader and not a blogger. We want to make our voices known in the Internet.

I discovered this amazing bloom in my backyard. Again, no idea what it is.


The rhododendrum has these big fat buds.


This tiny flower is next to the front walk. It’s probably a weed and will disappear with the next gardener’s visit.

I’m planning a trip to San Francisco early in May and got some info from an SF visitors site. One of the ads, for an art gallery, said they had "Rock Photography." I couldn’t figure out what that was. Were they showing photos of rocks like this?


Or was it rocks like this?


As a former photographer I wasn’t aware of a rock photography genre. I finally Googled rock photography and found out it was photos like this! All depends on where you’re coming from, I guess.

Sometimes everything works well. I had my yearly appointment with my ophthalmologist this morning. Recently, he moved his office to a nearby suburb; not far, but not convenient by bus. I spent a lot of time worrying about how to get there and looking at bus schedules. If I drive, how do I get back with my eyes dilated? It takes several hours for my pupils to recover, all that great stuff. And I had a class I wanted to get to this afternoon.

I finally decided to drive. It was one of those nice, gray Pittsburgh mornings. I figured that with dark sunglasses I might be OK. I got to the appointment with no trouble, the doctor saw me promptly (a miracle), told me everything was good and did not need to dilate my eyes.
I drove home in time to have lunch and went to take the bus to my class. Then, really good, one of my neighbors drove by and gave me a ride.

This was my last Tuesday Japanese Art class. Next week I will give a presentation about contemporary representations of death at Hiroshima. In two weeks, I have to turn in my paper (same subject). I’ve begun writing, so it shouldn’t be too agonizing.

I usually sleep very well, in fact I sleep through highway noises, loud snoring, and one time, a fire alarm. Renee was staying over at my apartment in New Jersey when the alarm went off at 4 am. She had to wake me up; I never heard the alarm. Happily, by the time I was awake enough to start going down the eleven flights of stairs the alarm stopped.

But once in a while I spend the night mostly awake. Usually it’s because I drank coffee or tea late in the day or I have something pressing on my mind. Yesterday was none of that; I was just awake. All I could do was think about what I was experiencing: feeling my heart beating; my legs aching a little; keeping my upside ear covered; what to do with my arms; all that profound stuff. I’m moving slowly this morning, but I’m going to get dressed and go exercise. Maybe that will help. 

I teased Raja this morning; she had snow in Kentucky and I had only rain. Now the snow has arrived in Pittsburgh and I got instant cabin fever. I wanted to go out and buy groceries, actually, fruit and veggies. It’s not like I don’t have food in the house. I even found some Clementine’s I had forgotten in the fridge. I just wanted to go out. I fought with myself for a good part of the morning, finally decided to stay home and maybe get something useful done. First, I made soup. I found a recipe using red lentils and potatoes. Haven’t tasted it yet, but it may need something more. It’s supposed to be finished with lemon juice, which I have, and cilantro, which I don’t have.

Just spent some time looking up info about freezing my credit. Consumer’s Union has a site here. Lots of good info including how to opt out of all those offers. I will definitely do that. I’m tired of shredding all those  certificates, and they worry me.

All of this is work avoidance. I have begun working on my paper for Japanese Art History. Love doing the research. Found an amazing amount of stuff on the internet. Now I have to write. Oh well, I’m writing this post instead. The snow is supposed to stop tonight.

Here is my Tulip Tree in Spring. It will happen soon, I hope.

I’m very pleased I made it to the last day of an exhibit I wanted to see, but kept forgetting about: Nick Cave at the Society for Contemporary Crafts. I was suffering with February grayness yesterday; it took a lot for me to get out of the house.

The exhibit was splendid. Cave is a Chicago artist whose quirky designs seem to follow somewhat in the tradition of Ed Paschke and the Chicago Imagists. You can see a video of Cave’s work here, and read more about him here (pdf).

Here are some pictures of Cave’s work:

Wonderful, outsize, finely crafted garments

This is a picture of a mask from Papua New Guinea, I took at the Field Museum in Chicago.

Couldn’t help notice some similarities. I love them both.

I am so addicted to this computer I carried it with me in spite of it being too heavy; too much trouble; I’ll only be gone a week, I’m paying extra for internet access. Can’t seem to live without it. I am staying in a monastic cell in International House at the University of Chicago. I was a student here 55 years ago, so this is very nostalgic for me. I never stayed at iHouse when I was a student, but it bears a strong resemblance to my dorm room, although without the desk and chair I had back then. Enough complaining: it’s very convenient to Eli’s apartment; that’s why I’m here.

Eli went to work this evening and I took Romy out for dinner. Then we went to hear the New Budapest Orpheum Society: Super Tuesday/Fat Tuesday Concert, So that their voices will not fall silent — Jewish Cabaret in Exile. Performers from the music department played and sang music written before and during World War 2 most of it by Jewish musicians who did not survive the Holocaust. Songs from before the war, about corporate greed, fear, fantasies and freedom, seemed chillingly pertinent to our time.

I was going to write about my memories of being a student here, but the concert overshadowed them. I think it’s my bedtime so nostalgia will wait. We are supposed to get a lot of snow tonight; I may have plenty of time to write tomorrow.