NaNoEdMo

Published on by mbcoudal2 Comments

I had so much fun in November for National Novel Writing Month. I really should/want to do National Novel Editing Month in March. Starting tomorrow.

But Fifty hours of Editing! Ugh! I can’t do anything for 50 hours. I’ll have to get up early or skip exercise at lunch time or work for hours and hours.

And what about my commitment to myself to blog everyday of Lent?

Yet the characters I birthed in November are wandering around in a Netherworld, asking me to come get them out of their half-lives. They are so needy and I’m a sucker for characters that need me. Seriously considering…..

Art Students League of New York

Published on by mbcoudal1 Comment

The Art Students League http://www.theartstudentsleague.org/ smells of oil paint.

The building is an absolute gem on 57th Street.

I have taken two Saturday classes there over the years. They’ve been taught by these wonderful  women of quite an advanced age, (one of whom Hilda Terry is no longer with us.) Last month’s watercolor class was taught by Dale Meyers who is still creating, teaching, thinking, and sharing. The other students’ work can be amazingly technically proficient or incredibly primitive (mine falls into the latter category).

It is exceedingly relaxing to be in a room where everyone is painting. My watercolors tend to be an embrace of negative space with a loose and splattered messy style. It’s hard to summarize. But fun to make.

I’m taking a Literature of Art Class with Ephraim Rubenstein on Thursday nights – he is so passionate, smart, provocative about the history of art. On Thursday we discussed the difference between Nude and Naked. We had read (or in my case, skimmed) Kenneth Clark’s “The Nude.” The Greeks, Rubenstein said, had a love of nakedness. Their gods were big and beautiful, not like a formless Yahweh.

We talked about how beauty in art gives one a shiver. That innately and physically we respond to art. We talked about philosophy — how when you think “bed” you have an ideal of “bed-ness” in mind, according to Artistotle. Is that “bedness” more ideal than the artist’s interpretation or an actual bed itself?

We discussed idealism. How, as Americans, we have a love/hate relationship with idealism. Is the nude who comes to model for art class a disappointment? Is he or she any less perfect or ideal than the Victoria Secret airbrushed model?

***

When I had inquired with the Eastern European woman security guard at the art school on Thursday whether class was cancelled due to snow. She told me that the school’s motto is Nulla Dies Sine Linea or “No Day Without a Line.”  “We are always open.”

The classes at the Art Students League are so cheap and so good. My daughers took a kids’ class with Martha Bloom. They just had a show in the gallery and the hallway outside of the cafeteria.

Yes, there’s a sweet, funky, good cafeteria and a tiny art shop in case you need supplies. The Art Students League has it all. Everyday.

Passion Leads to Death

Published on by mbcoudalLeave a comment

I started crying in the Viand diner this morning when the photo of the trainer, Dawn Brancheau, came on the television news. She so clearly loved the orca who killed her. She loved her work as an animal trainer.

The kids said, “Mom, don’t cry.”

But I don’t know how to explain this. What is the life lesson here? Tell my kids to chose their passions carefully? I do not want them to luge, to ski, to snowboard, feed predators for their life’s work.

And by the way, I do not want them to travel with relief efforts to developing countries either. How much can we protect our children from risky, heartfelt passions? How much can we protect ourselves? What is life — if it is not an engagement with physical and meaningful challenges which have the potential to consume you?

I hope, like me, my kids will find their passion in literature and in theater. These seem relatively benign passions. Although I suppose every passion has its its dangers. When you are fully committed, you can lose everything, including your life. Sobering and sad thoughts on a snowy Manhattan morning.  

I guess this relates to my life lesson – “live everyday as if it is your last.” Cliche? Yes, but cliches can be true.

Love Author and Tiffany’s

Published on by mbcoudalLeave a comment

I like  passionate people. Once I met a loving, passionate man at Tiffany’s.

When I was in college, I had tons of part time jobs. (I’ve always loved to work!) One pre-Christmas season, I worked as a page at Tiffany’s — the fabulous big store on Fifth and 57th. My job was to answer the clerk’s tapping on the counter to collect the  little capsules full of cash and send them through these fast  little tubes. Then I’d wait for the receipt and run that back to the cashier. I haven’t been in  Tiffany’s in probably 20 years but I’m doubting they still use this lovely, archaic payment system.

Any way, about this passionate person.

One day Leo Buscaglia came in to the silver department at Tiffany’s. He was with a couple of younger men. They were just browsing. He was incredibly nice to everyone. (Go figure, an inspirational speaker who spoke and wrote about  Love oozed love.)  

I knew who he was because I’d seen his specials on Channel 11, Chicago’s public television. But no one paid any attention to him. New Yorkers are notoriously blasé about their celebs. I introduced myself to Leo and said I was a fan.

“You know,” he said, “You are all so nice here, you should wear name tags so we can get to know you and thank you personally.”

“Yes,” I said. I liked the idea, because as far as anyone knew, I was just a page. No one knew my name. I thought I’d bring it up with the woman in the back room who hired me (whose name I no longer remember).

But the next time I was in the back room clocking out, the spinster-ish woman told me I must no longer wear my hair in a French Braid at Tiffany’s. “It’s just not right,” she said, implying some kind of tawdriness. I didn’t get it.

I quit after the Christmas season. I’d gotten a job as a front desk clerk at the Hilton International in the World Trade Center.

But Leo Buscaglia was the highlight of my Tiffany’s career.

I’m reminded of him when I get inspirational quotes like this one. “Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other,” from Leo Buscaglia.

Power of Niceness

Published on by mbcoudal5 Comments

I am really struggling with one of my daughters (Let’s call her C). She’s 10. Every single thing that comes out of my mouth, C can/will/does contradict.

I am tired of this and have asked her to make today a radically, completely, goody-goody nice day. Extreme niceness would be such a refreshing change. And it works. Why does my husband, Chris, have a Broadway career despite his steady slowing Parkinson’s Disease? The man is just plain nice. Over the years he has cultivated so many friends. He has no ego. Of course, talent helps.

I am in the middle of the book, “The Power of Nice: How to Conquer the Businesss World with Kindness” by Linda Kaplan Thaler and Robin Koval. It’s chock full of examples about how one simple act of kindness – helping someone with their luggage in the subway, let’s say – can change your world. In business and in life.

I have always been an exceedingly nice person. And at times, I do feel the sting. I think people have equated niceness with dumbness. In Gretchen Rubin’s book, “The Happiness Project,” she talks about research that shows negative people are perceived of as smarter people. I can think of a few examples of this at work (but since it is Lent and I’ve given up gossip, you’ll have to fill in your own names.)

While the negativist may win in the short-run, to sustain a long-term Broadway career, you mustn’t be all crabby and egocentric. You must be nice.

I would love to share this blog post with my darling C, but I’m afraid she’ll contradict me and be embarrassed by me. Mothering is not for the faint of heart. Or for the woman who is so nice, she is a doormat for her 10-year old. Niceness also means being nice to oneself and standing up for rightness.

This post relates to my Number 2 Rule – Escape through Literature. I got a lot out of “The Power of Nice” and “The Happiness Project.”

Two Classes I Can Teach

Published on by mbcoudalLeave a comment

These are two classes I can teach. I wrote the course descriptions for the Chautauqua Insitution’s Summer Program. but they did not bite. It’s probably just as well since the classrooms do not have internet access and for the first class, you really need access.

So, then I emailed the course descriptions to the wonderful Ecumenical Institute  of Bossey in Geneva, Switzerland. I showed it to my friend, Drew (Giddings), too. He said lots of churches would benefit from the first class idea. Of course, I think lots of people would benefit from the second one too. And odds are that that class would be kind of funny.

1. Beyond Google and Email

 Are you Linked In? Do you blog? Tweet? Tag?  If these terms are foreign to you, it’s time to find out about the internet and social networking. Learn the lingo. Like millions of people, you too can use the internet as a creative, democratic and social force to bring people of faith together. Learn to use Twitter, Facebook, and all the new global communications tools.

2. Writing the Comic Essay

Write about your life – from childhood through the present day – the small, quiet moments and the large, public events. With comic insights about your life’s spiritual journey, you will discover a thread of levity and deep meaning. This is a supportive and fun class, intended for the experienced, casual and non-writer. In this class, you will remember and record a humorous experience from childhood. You will transform a recent angry incident into a humorous one. You will write an essay of publishable quality.

FLYlady and Me

Published on by mbcoudalLeave a comment

I’ll admit I am a very messy, disorganized person. But I can change. I swear I can. I still have not unpacked my suitcase from Las Vegas three weeks ago. But I’ll do it. today, I swear. Right after I go to Bible Study, church, a discussion on public school, the girls’ basketball game, read the Times, make dinner, do the laundry, etc.

My dis-organizational skills are getting in my way. Last night when it was time to take Hayden and his friend to the Bar Mitzvah at Chelsea Piers, I couldn’t find his friend’s address. I had just written it down. Last weekend, I lost the car keys.

Okay, but at work, I’m organized. It only took me like a week to unpack my boxes when I moved offices. I don’t know why I find packing easy and unpacking hard. It’s true when I unpacked at work, I had the support of my online Flylady friends.

I have followed Flylady, Marla Cilly, for maybe ten years. She is my household help (and workspace) guru. I must continue to follow her.  When I started following her, she had about 10,000 adherents. Maybe now she has 100,000. I am not alone in having a chaotic, stash and dash  lifestyle. http://www.flylady.net/

The FLY part of Flylady stands for Finally Loving Yourself. And here’s my distillation of her three rules (you know, I love rules):

1. Get dressed to your shoes every morning right when you get up.

2. Keep your kitchen sink clean and shiney.

3. Follow simple morning and evening routines.

You think it sounds easy? It’s not. But it’s so worth it.

Sun, Snow and Ice

Published on by mbcoudal1 Comment

I ran 13 minutes without stopping. I ran from the apartment to the pier to the boat basin. I kept checking my watch to see if I’d broke my 13-minute barrier. It was a little cold and very sunny.

At one point an older woman was running slowly towards me. She looked like I might hope to look in 25 years – fit, a little wrinkled, game. She told me, “Be careful. It’s icy ahead.”

Yes, it was icy ahead. So I took small steps on the patches of glassy ice. I felt like a prize fighter warming up. I did not stop.

I felt good. I felt proud. I am like that older woman along the path by the Hudson River. I might run slowly, but at least I run. And I watch for those icy patches. 

Tiger Woods

Published on by mbcoudal3 Comments

Ask me if I care about the infidelity of Tiger Woods. My answer is a loud and clear No!

Let me rephrase that, “No, thank you. I’ve had enough.”

Besides, I’m trying to find the good. I just finished writing an article about women artists in Haiti making gratitude journals for income. That, to me, is worth paying attention to. 

Who wouldn’t want to read about people making a positive difference? Do we all really want to feast on the latest celebrity to implode?

Let’s face it. It’s hard to praise. It’s easy to criticize. It’s hard to create. It’s easy to destroy. (Even in this blog post, I’m going negative about people going negative.)

But let me try to remember My Rule Numer 5:  Expect the best, love what you get.

Maybe I’m thinking about all of this, because I have given up gossip and criticism for Lent. I’m feeling righteous. And it’s really hard. (My friend Barbara told me not to give up both — one or the other. But heck, I’m an overachiever!)

I want to go through life finding the good in people. It’s actually harder to be happy, joyful, optimistic than it is to critical, snarky, mean.

Does anyone have any good news? I’m open to hear it.

Kickball

Published on by mbcoudalLeave a comment

I remember the shouts of kids on the corner. The kickball games.

The thwack of the ball as you kick it with the side of your foot. The sound of canvas High Tops hitting the rubber ball. You kicked it very very hard. You hold your breath. It is going far but you can’t watch the ball. Because you have to run. Run as hard and fast as you can. Footsteps faster than your breath as you make your way to first base. Safe at first. Stay. Stay. How come you didn’t get farther? It was such a good kick. It was out into the field. Way out.

No time for thinking. Your brother’s up to kick. Time to cheer him on.

Your cheer becomes a part of the shouts. The shouts of the kids on the corner of South Crescent and Belleplain. Park Ridge, Illinois.