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“And creativity, it soaks my soul, I ask not to be alone”; The Artistic Struggle Is Real

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Unfulfilled, Yearning, Striving, Undone, Explosive.

It’s taken me a long time to feel affected by something enough to unload it onto the internet, but this is one of those long-simmering slow boils that is about to finally pop the top off of the pressure cooker. What is “a creative?” Is it someone who only works in the arts? Is it a social media director? Is it someone who works in public relations? An editor of a magazine? I have no idea as to what concretely defines “a creative” anymore, but I know that I am one. It’s an innate knowledge, probably the only thing I was born sure of, but what I’ve also learned is that at times, it is a G-d damn pain in the ass. Life in the arts, of any kind, is the furthest thing from a smooth ride into a sufficient paycheck & contentedness. It’s definitely easier today than back when I was growing up (and no lie, I’m so envious of these kids attending performing arts high schools and summer dance and drama camps and such, that sometimes I wish I could just be reborn – I’m Hindu-ish, I’m sure it’ll work – and do it all over again).

On any given day, when I go to my routine job in order to fund my passions in design and dance, I’ll be half present. It’s a job that requires organization, work ethic, and some brain power, but not enough that my mind isn’t wandering into my next “masterpiece” of some kind. What’s the strangest ensemble I can put together that I’m sure will push the boundaries of normal construction? What’s the most out-of-the-box movement I can push my body to make in some new choreography? This thought process usually very rapidly progresses to “Why am I not in the arts full-time?” “Why is this not where my life’s funding is coming from?” “Why am I still in healthcare when I quit medical school 7 years ago?” And then come the influx of emotions; disappointment, despondence, whys & what-ifs, sadness, inspiration, rallying, excitement, enthusiasm..lather, rinse, repeat. And those last three words are why as each day goes by, I feel my flame extinguished little by little, slowly but surely.

Why do “creatives” have to struggle to make their contributions matter? We are progressive, we push boundaries, we help people think on alternative planes, we force people to delve deeper into themselves, we sometimes gift people to have the confidence to look deeper into others. So why isn’t creative input as socially important as, for example, a doctor’s? Now, before everyone dumps on me, realize this; I obviously know a doctor has indispensable life-saving skills and they go through a lot to get to that point where their patients trust them enough to literally put their lives in their hands. And yes, of course, a musician or a dancer will need a doctor at some point. But use your right brain for a minute. Have you ever thought about how a musician could possibly be saving a doctor’s life? What about that surgeon in that OR who has been awake for 48 hours not having seen his/her family with someone’s mortality in their hands? What about his/her favorite musician whose labor of love is what they’re playing in the OR to calm their nerves or keep them awake or reach into some emotion or memory or whatever the case may be in order to focus and keep their patient alive & well? We need each other. 

The stigma that an artist is a wishy-washy hippie with no real focus or destination is what keeps us all down, the non-artists included. This creative life is an unforgiving, difficult, lonely, misunderstood, emotionally-turmoiled typhoon..that is also the most fulfilling, evolving, magnetic, identifying, truthful, cathartic, satisfying, authentic one. To not be able to wholly live it is soul-crushing..like a permanent Dementor all up in your face. But those with the tenacity and voracity to live that roller coaster, no matter the cost, are the ones that fly. They are the ones who make change happen, not because they are creative, but because they are full of grit & blind determination & the optimism that tells them everything will happen for them in time.

I want to be that person. I have to be that person. And I’ve given myself a deadline on when I will be that person.

Stay tuned..changes, they are a’comin’.

 

Today’s Wisdom:

“There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open. No artist is pleased. No satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” -Martha Graham

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Today’s Interlude: “Pure Imagination” from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory

Today’s Feelings..

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It’s been one of those weeks of self-doubt, frustration, stress, unprofessional idiots, regrets, and dealing with a lot of back & forth about what to do & where to go from here. This piece by Rudyard Kipling (it’s for us daughters too!) is exactly what I needed to feel like Aaliyah..and dust myself off & try again.

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“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!”

-Rudyard Kipling, If: A Father’s Advice to His Son

Today’s Feelings..

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I have had this up on my wall in every room I have ever lived in, from home to college dorm to medical school housing, serving as an important source of wisdom for the past 18 years. Thank you for your skill of pen & strength of woman, Dr. Angelou. Rest in Peace.

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 “I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, & it will be better tomorrow.

I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, & tangled Christmas tree lights.

I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life.

I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.”

I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.

I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.

I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one.

I’ve learned that every day you should reach out & touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn.

 I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

 -Dr. Maya Angelou-

(April 4, 1928 – May 28, 2014)

“And This Old World Is A New World And A Bold World..For Me”: Finally Feeling Fun!

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Carefree, Enthusiastic, Social.

Today is a good day. It’s the first day in over 6 months that I actually have the desire to go out and reconnect with people without having a constant frenetic worry in my head about my family & their health & whereabouts. The sun is bronzing our front yard, the mild breeze feels like snuggling with newborns, & my endorphin levels are at some unprecedented high. I used to scoff (until it affected me..sorry about that) at the whole seasonal depression thing. I figured that if people in London weren’t all down & depressed their entire lives considering their lack of natural Vitamin D providers, then weather really wasn’t what was affecting your mood. Just kidding. The past couple of weeks have made me realize that Mother Nature, that little vengeful woman, has had my head in a vice all winter long. Blizzards, gray skies, polar vortexes, & gloomy rain, combined with family health issues, had me downer than Debbie and more negative than Nancy.

I don’t know if it’s the weather, I don’t know if it’s the fact that (knock on wood) my family is feeling better, I don’t know if it’s because I’m starting to (excruciatingly slowly) get my shit together, & I don’t know if it’s because I absolutely refuse to have to take any anxiety medication (I have no stigma against it, it’s just a personal preference that I would rather not take anything), but I’m stage 5 clinging to whatever is causing this upswing in my mood & positivity & general infatuation with the good and happy in the world. Next winter, I’m flying south with the winged & this summer, I’m absorbing rays like I’m a God damn human greenhouse (wearing SPF 100), but as for the present moment, “it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life..for me. And I’m feelin’ good.” 😎

Today’s Interlude: “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone

JUST DANCE, GONNA BE OK, DA DA DOO DOO; THE SIMPLEST SOLUTION TO STRESS

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ARTS: JUST DANCE, GONNA BE OK, DA DA DOO DOO; THE SIMPLEST SOLUTION TO STRESS

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Euphoric, Free, Alive.

Stress. Overwhelming stress. It’s very rare that people today don’t have it. It varies in levels depending on a number of factors; career, family, emotions, personality, lifestyle, income, desires, etcetera, but it’s there. Silently waiting to attack when you least expect it, rendering you manic or crazed or depressed or angry. Let’s say you can’t quit your job to own a farm in California or live a spa life in Arizona. You can’t quit your family, you can’t shirk your responsibilities, you can’t overcome your sporadic but prevalent emotional tsunamis. So, what do you do? Release it. For me, the greatest and truest inanimate, intangible passion of my life is dance. Any form. Drunken, choreographed, impromptu, rehearsed, performed, jumping & booty-bumping with my 2.5 year old nephew, ballroom dancing with the puppy. ANY. If it was possible to bottle the feeling that radiates within and out of me when I’m dancing, I would be in direct competition with the Onassis family as wealthiest around. However, I cherish the fact that the feeling is so inexpressible for me because I get to have a sense of public privacy.

The audience sees a performer on stage expressing lyrics and movements to given music, but much of the time, the performer is in a whole different secret world. I have literally been brought to tears or euphoria on stage depending on the day of performance, & the people, who I don’t even register in my consciousness, applaud. They applaud for a technical performance that hopefully connected with them in some way. What they don’t realize is that the emotion that’s coming off in waves from the stage to the audience at such a high frequency is the tumultuous collage of my innermost fears, happinesses, struggles, tears, accomplishments, sadness, & stress being released. They are privy to something they don’t even know of, & for a hyper-private person like me, it’s my way of “talking about my feelings.” Dancing has saved me from a lot in life. It has protected me from a lot in life. It has given me a lot in life. It is the only outlet that still serves to shatter my anxiety, my founded & unfounded worries, & my fears. The best way to describe it, I suppose, is by using my favorite quote, also tattooed on my ankle: “In life, as in dance; grace glides on blistered feet.” When I’m dancing, I’m at my most euphoric. When I’m dancing, I’m at my most tranquil. When I’m dancing, I’m at my most giving. It’s a blind & frozen moment in time where everything is nothing and nothing is everything & I’m spinning along with the world in harmony.

Everyone deserves this. You deserve to feel this way about something in your life, if not necessarily dance. When things are piling up & suffocating you under their deadweight, find your own outlet. You don’t have to be good at it. Contrary to popular & incorrect belief, NO ONE CARES.

“Times of general calamity and confusion have ever been productive of the greatest minds. The purest ore is produced from the hottest furnace, and the brightest thunderbolt is elicited from the darkest storms.”-Charles Caleb Colton

Is splattering paint across a canvas therapeutic? Do it. Listening to music? Blast it. Playing sports (not my forte!)? Kick it, pitch it, run it. Writing? Scribble it. No one is expected to be the next DaVinci, Stevie Wonder, Jackie Robinson, Ernest Hemingway, but you are expected to somehow be able to enjoy this life without needing an industrial-strength antacid twice a day. I’m lucky that I found my meditation at the age of 3, but “too late” is a phrase I’m just starting to eke out of my vernacular, & I suggest you do the same for “life is short, but sweet for certain.”

Today’s Interlude: “Dance Dance Dance” by Lykke Li

         

Solo Sojourns: The Legacy of the “Me Trip”

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Today’s Mood Ingredients: Nomadic, Adventurous, Introspective, Light, Free.

One of the greatest things I’ve ever done to facilitate my own independence and feed my desire to connect with as many kindred and non-kindred spirits as possible was to start taking “Me Trips” back when I started college. I know you’re waiting with bated breath for me to explain (because the name isn’t self-explanatory at all), so here we go. When I was a freshman, many of my closest friends were at different schools, so our spring breaks never coincided. I’m one of those rarities on the planet that has never been to Cancun for spring break. I never had a wild week of unadulterated all-inclusive fun; at least not in college. When faced with the option of sitting at home for a week doing nothing but morosely imagining the others on the beach (pre-Facebook photo days, you guys aka TORTURE), I decided to just up & leave and go on a trip by myself. It was nothing spectacular the first time (Virginia and Washington, DC), but the whole idea of leaving for a different city by myself with no concrete itinerary was so enthralling, even the mall seemed spectacular because it was in another city. Now, back in the day, before I went delinquent for a while, my parents were hyper-paranoid and I was an angel child. Trying to convince them that I was going to drive to Virginia from New York alone, stay in a hotel alone, and hopefully return (alone) was one of the most difficult processes that no human being should ever have to go through. But, I’m a Scorpio and I’m stubborn and I’m determined and I guess I was convincing (“Mom! You always say you want me to be independent! How will I do so in the house all break while you feed me!? I have to experience life.” Yeah, whatever, you were all that preachy at 17 too!). So, I packed a bag with clothes, money, the brick of a cell phone I had just gotten in January of 2000 “for emergencies only,” & some books, and bounded out the door.

I remember being extremely excited that I was going on a trip by myself and I would meet so many new people and see so many new things and learn so much more about myself that the first thing I did was get lost on the way. It’s a straight road from NYC to VA/DC, but I get lost if I come out of a different subway exit, so this was par for the course for me. With no navigation system & NO WAY IN HELL being the basic idea behind calling my dad for directions, my “spring break” started off by gas station hopping (party animal) to find out exactly how I could get to my destination. When I got to my little Holiday Inn room, I was thrilled (this was pre-anxiety that a serial killer would strangle me Lifetime movie style days). I looked around, called my parents to tell them that I still had all limbs intact and I was only late in arriving because of traffic, not due to being directionally impaired, and..bounded out the door.

The 5 days I spent in Virginia & DC are still some of my most fondly remembered ones. I went to the Smithsonian, National Air & Space Museum, The White House, Washington Monument, Lincoln & Jefferson Memorials, Arlington Cemetery, & of course, the Arlington Mall (as in shopping, not historical). I meandered along the large exhibits and really took the time to understand the things that I actually liked in life. I found that my childhood predilection for museums and history was still raring to go as long as I didn’t have a 40 question exam or 2,000 word essay relying on it afterwards. I experienced the DC nightlife, unknowingly ended up at an awesome lesbian nightclub (“Come to the firehouse party tomorrow night, I’ll take you as my date!”) which I didn’t know at the time was a lesbian nightclub, I just thought it was “ladies’ night” and people in DC were much nicer than in New York (see why I needed the “independence”!?), made a new friend at a hip hop bar who I was in touch with for a couple of years afterwards, went back to the hotel happy and renewed and ready to go home..and bounded out the door.

After that first experience, I was hooked. “Me Trips” became my sanity and I vowed to take one at least once a year. I went to the Bahamas with no plans and ended up going to fire-breathing show, kayaking for the first time by myself (resulting in spaghetti arms), & meeting a girl and her mom from the next town over from me on Long Island. We met on a Bahamian snorkeling/booze cruise on which I ended up as “Limbo Queen” and won a bottle of long gone rum. From there, I took a flight to Miami, rented a red convertible to fulfill my long-harbored dream of being whatever people in red convertibles at the time were, had a beautiful dinner of pasta and wine on Lincoln Road alone while reading a paperback which I then left in the back of a cab I took to go to Mansion, a nightclub there. I encountered a bachelorette party of girls with whom I ended up having mutual connections, stayed at one of their apartments, & headed to Orlando on the Amtrak the next day. Most people call me a nutjob, but I have been to Miami’s Holocaust Museum alone, I’ve truly and thoroughly enjoyed The Magic Kingdom alone, I’ve gone to a club in Orlando and met  a couple who ended up inviting me to their wedding later that year, and I still go to dinner and movies and short road trips alone when I can’t manage the time for a full Me Trip. The experiences I’ve had on all of those journeys are absolutely incomparable and unique and considering I remember so many details, and more importantly, feelings, from these trips, it is clear that they have in some way shaped me as well. I just remember feeling new. That’s the best way I can put it. Intrigued, revived, alive, enthusiastic..and ever ready to bound out the door.

My family has gotten used to it even if they don’t understand it because it was and IS the greatest feeling in the world to take some time for yourself away from your familiar surroundings and the regular hubbub of daily life and just connect with yourself as a human being. Your likes, dislikes, experiences can all be influenced by those around you so once in a while, why not take off and see what it is that really resonates with you? I credit my Me Trips with much of the hyper self-awareness that I have today. I can honestly say that I know exactly what makes an impact with me, exactly what I like and don’t like and why, what my flaws are, what my assets are, what has shaped me and how, and what I want for myself from this point forward. To be attuned to yourself is a fabulous thing because I don’t second guess my decisions as much as I used to, and that is a fantastic feeling. I feel rejuvenated when I am away and have a clarity of thought that is difficult to produce when you’re surrounded by so many pressures and stressors and responsibilities. Alone doesn’t equal lonely and I strongly urge everyone to find the time to take a Me Trip and really understand what makes you, you.

I hope you’re bounding out the door.

Today’s Interlude: I 9, “Same In Any Language”

(Pictures Below – sadly none of Virginia/DC..pre-digicam days!: 1. Red convertible stunting in Miami, 2. Nicole, a girl I met in the Bahamas with her mom, & myself at Señor Frog’s, 3. Random bachelorette party at Mansion, Miami, 4. Limbo Queen on a Bahamian booze cruise, 5. New friends in the Bahamas at the Breezes resort where I was not staying, 6. Front & center at Cinderella’s house, 7. Knights of Fire show in the Bahamas, 8. Nicole’s mom, Nicole, the bouncer, & me at Señor Frog’s, 9. Bride-to-be Monique & her BFF at an Orlando lounge, 10. New friends in Miami, 11. New friends in Orlando, 12. New friend Rahul & I at B.E.D. in Miami, 13. Holocaust Museum in Miami, 14. Wedding party friends at Breezes in the Bahamas, 15. My 1st time snorkeling, 16. A new Orlando police officer friend, 17. Nicole & I on the Bahamian booze cruise, 18. Kayaking for the 1st time)

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Stack on Stacks on Stacks: Bibliophilia Is Cool

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Arts: Stacks on Stacks on Stacks: Bibliophilia Is Cool

Today’s Mood Ingredients: Hungry, Curious, Adventurous, Cozy, Well-Read, Literary.

Once upon a time, I was lucky enough to travel to Cambodia, drive through a phantom tollbooth, do some detective work with a girl named Nancy, be in awe of a girl named Cam’s photographic memory, be a part of a club of babysitters and a sleepover club, hang out in abandoned boxcars, meet five people in heaven, travel 20,000 leagues under the sea, live in a castle for 7 years, learn about the southern USA during the slavery era, learn about magic with a gypsy woman named Brida, hang out with a sweet award-winning pig, interpret various maladies of numerous people, fall in love with a hundred men (whoa), and embrace many of life’s lessons from a brilliant alchemist. It’s been a wonderful 28 years of a life full of imagination and intelligence, new perspectives and introspection; and I never needed to physically leave the place I was in.

Since you’ve probably already figured out what I’m talking about, let me dive right in. When someone tells me, “I hate reading for fun!”, I genuinely have trouble understanding them. I pride myself on being quite adept at putting myself in other people’s shoes for a myriad of things, but this one thing? I DON’T GET IT! But then again, I hate football, eggplants, and reality show celebrities, & no one gets that either. For me, reading is an innate love carried over generations on both sides of my family (somehow skipping my mom & brother). My dad started me off early & the love affair took off right from the get-go. The ability to escape into other people’s characters, their minds, other realms, cultivate and nurture my own imagination and creativity is the greatest asset to an introvert like me. Externally, I’m an affable, sociable, strange person, but when I need hermit time, books are my favorite partners. They offer an intangible, inexplicable, but incomparable comfort that is akin to cuddling with your pet or having your mom take care of you when you’re sick; and thank God for that because my dog is moody and sometimes, so is my mom.

I’m a crazy quote-monger (if that’s not a thing, it is now); I like to see how similarly or how differently someone else can put my feelings to words, & when words fail me (it doesn’t happen often, but my words are not quite quotable, perhaps more bleep-able at times), someone else’s lines do just fine. I also truly wish I could meet some of my favorite authors, but only a handful are still alive (Paulo Coelho, Mitch Albom, Mindy Kaling, Jhumpa Lahiri, JK Rowling, BJ Novak, Cecelia Ahern, & Nick Hornby to name a few), & so I have to settle for imagining Dickinson/Hemingway/Milne’s lives, Rumi & Kahlil Gibran’s real theories on love, Shakespeare’s creative process, Thoreau’s experiences, Frost’s decision-making processes (wink wink), & especially so, Plath’s thoughts (I believe Sylvia & I are kindred souls, minus the level of heart-wrenching depression and the whole suicide situation, of course). Though all have done a remarkable job of recording the aforementioned in beauteous poetry, prose, and stories, you can bet that my ideal dead dinner party guests would most definitely include those people. Recently, I asked to join a friend’s book club because it was something I had been wanting to do for years and because apparently, I’m okay with inviting myself to things I see on Facebook statuses. To find like-minded bibliophiles, but with their own interpretations of a work and its characters is like free cone day at Baskin Robbins to me (comparing the happiness here, not necessarily the satisfaction of reading a book versus the satiation of inhaling a large chocolate chocolate-chip with whipped cream & rainbow sprinkles).

As long as I can remember (& I’m like Dumbo with the memory..& maybe also some of the self-doubt), one of my favorite dreams has been to own a house that has a large mahogany library full of slouchy armchairs, a crackling fireplace, a ginormous [hypoallergenic] rug, a bay window/nook with a view of the pool guy (jk jk), Marshmallow Man sized & consistency-d throw pillows, and thousands and thousands and millions of books. Old, new, classic, nouveau, fiction, non, biographies, autos, children’s, adults’, hardcover, paperback, leather-bound. I want a place to travel when I can’t, to breathe when I can’t, to flop on the floor and leave everything behind when I can’t, basically to just fly away when I can’t. My other favorite dream is that those newfangled battery-powered contraptions won’t render my smooth covered, musty fragranced, underlined, worn to the spine, dogeared, page filled, ink misprinted companions obsolete. Fine, admittedly I do own a Nook, but in my defense, it was after everyone else, it was a gift, and I fought a long & valiant battle against it. Plus, I can’t do the heavy-lifting required of me if I took all the books I wanted to with me everywhere I go.

Anyyyhoo, I’ll end this with some of my favorite titles, maybe some coincide with some of yours, maybe you have other suggestions, please let me know either way! And thanks to whoever coined my favorite term to elementary [school] & beyond; “Reading is FUN-damental.”

It’s a beautiful love affair and it shall last ’til happily ever after.

P.S.–>Bibliophobes, check out Audible!

The Alchemist, Brida, The Witch of Portobello, Veronika Decides To Die, Eleven Minutes, The Manual of the Warrior of Light, Aleph (all by Paulo Coelho), Tuesdays With Morrie, The 5 People You Meet In Heaven, The First Phone Call From Heaven, The Time Keeper, For One More Day, Have A Little Faith (every book Mitch Albom has written), The Interepreter of Maladies, The Lowlands (both Jhumpa Lahiri), A Long Way Down (Nick Hornby), Wicked (Gregory Maguire), The Time of My Life, There’s No Place Like Here, The Book of Tomorrow, The Gift, Thanks For The Memories, One Hundred Names (all by Cecelia Ahern), Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? And Other Concerns (Mindy Kaling), One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories (BJ Novak), The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (both by Sylvia Plath), And The Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini), The Prophet (Kahlil Gibran), The Witch’s Daughter (Paula Brackston), the Harry Potter series (shut up, it’s not Twilight), The Casual Vacancy (both by JK Rowling), The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky), Little Women (Louisa May Alcott), The Gift (Andi Buchanan), 13 Reasons Why (Jay Asher), Sweet Valley Jr. High/High/University (Francine Pascal), Dream a Little Dream (Antoinette Stockenberg), Where The Wild Things Are (Maurice Sendak), Oh! The Places You’ll Go!, The Lorax (both by Dr. Seuss), Where The Sidewalk Ends (Shel Silverstein), Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (Roald Dahl), The Gifts of Imperfection (Brené Brown), 2Bro2B (Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.), The Mistress of Spices (Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni), The Death of Vishnu (Manil Suri), The Diary of Anne Frank (Anne Frank), The Book Thief (Markus Zusak), Bridge to Terabithia (Katherine Paterson), Catcher In The Rye (J.D. Salinger), Number The Stars (Lois Lowry), Are You There, God? It’s Me Margaret, Tiger Eyes, Blubber, Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great, Deenie (all by Judy Blume), Ethan Frome (Edith Wharton), To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee), and on and on and on and on..

Today’s Interlude: Beauty and the Beast, “Little Town (Belle)”