Looking Back

In the middle of a storm
that may change me for the better
I stand confused and gaze
into the tempest and wonder
How I will fare.

The past creeps to find me
I know I can't look back
if I want to move ahead.
Learn, I have
Lost am I
in this maelstrom.

Sometimes the lessons
don't quite make themselves clear.
Though I have learned many times
that I must move on.
Using the past as a reservoir
to draw upon but not drown in
Since I do have a choice after all.


On my mind: Christian guilt + Hindu fatalism = Malayalee
On my lips: 2003 Pozzi Sicilia Rosso
In my ears: More Than This (Bryan Ferry)

Solo tulip

The air of anticipation
And the novelty of discovery
The meetings, an understanding of sorts.
Perhaps not at all?

Talking, dreaming, all down different paths
Traversing well-traveled roads
Until its too late to turn back.
The night brings me home to the truth.

After all the talk and all the cheer
The moments still linger with an air of tenderness
That slowly becomes apathy
And returns to ambivalence
Listen to it disappear.

The days creep along, the nights soothe
the sore wounds.
But the mystery of the self still provokes
And until the sunlight makes it all clear, the moonlight will still make me wonder.


On my mind: Is net worth related to self worth?
On my lips: a cold Corona
In my ears: Night Train (Steve Winwood)

Scars

Do not falter, I see the pain
that gives voice to the joy.
Letting the world have its way
with you can whittle away
the rock that was set
by someone else.

Having the world at your feet
only prevents you
from stepping into it.
Releasing the chains
that you control
can also unlock
the truth of yourself.

Walking wounded, scars can heal
And the beauty that only you will see
can also be shared.

On my mind: the crescent moon
On my palette: 2002 Starsa, Tenuta del Portale, Basilicata
In my ears: Mirrorball (Everything but the Girl)

Riding in the Sun

.

I went for a ride yesterday and realized (and rediscovered) the reasons why I love it. No doubt the breathtakingly beautiful day (after a long string of unpredictably rainy days) had something to do with it. Maybe it was a recent viewing of "High Plains Drifter" that brought out certain parallels as well. Clint Eastwood can just tilt his head and convey a sense of purpose and attitude like no one else. The motorcycle is a modern-day horse and the cult that surrounds it can seem a bit bizarre to the uninitiated.
By the simple fact of being outside you are forced to deal with the world on a bike. Having grown up (at least in age if not in outlook) as a loner, that interaction with the environment is intoxicating. When riding you have to be very much aware of your surroundings as your life depends on it. The smells, sights, and tactile nature of riding all force you to be "in the moment".
I started riding (if memory serves me correctly) about five years ago. With some time on my hands I managed to get through a riding course and get a license in the process. Having had a few bikes since then, I've come to realize that I am more of a touring biker.
The bike I ride most these days is a R1200C. A cruiser that's extremely comfortable on the highway yet nimble enough to maneuver city streets, its a great compromise for my current riding habits. Having logged in more that 9000 miles in the last 3 years on this bike alone, its really an extension of my personality. Its a lean, mean, lovin' machine (well, two out of those three are accurate.) And if the future is kind enough, I hope to log in many more miles down that long and winding road in the sun.
On my mind: Tobi's hair
On my palette: 2003 Castellana Montepulciano d'Abruzzo
In my ears: No Other Way (Jack Johnson)

Window Seat

Sparse light that manages to find its way
into a new living space makes for a new vantage point. Illuminating little inside, it frames the outside world in a window of possibilities. The fickle foliage, slow and patient, yearning for more, thrives, survives, and grows.

A City Alive

Having spent a few days in New York, I realized I need to do it more often. The pace, the interactions, the pulse, all of it was so intoxicating and addictive. Many have told me that New Yorkers are obnoxious and impersonal. I beg to differ. I think that their candor and forthrightness are mistaken for something more insidious.
A Philadelphian to some degree, I don't get the same level of engagement in the city of brotherly love. Perhaps the Quaker origins of this city's founders had a part in shaping the culture of modesty and reservedness that seem to predominate. There is a staid and conservative nature which ensures security and moderates success. Lacking, however, is the risk-taking and openness to creative ideas that a city needs to explore if it really wants to blossom.
New York does have its problems, don't get me wrong. The outrageously expensive cost of housing and the excessive taxes do have a way of keeping many on the edge of dropping out. But the constant influx of new ideas and a bold approach to the task of living is reason enough (for me) to appreciate a city that never sleeps, a city alive.

A Different Path

P1000020
Originally uploaded by herrmani.

A neighbor's attempt at adding some color to the usually bland sidewalks in Germantown (in Philadelphia.) Nature, however, insists on intruding.