Memories
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The New York Yankees — in loving memory
Twenty-three years is a very long time, yet the freshness of you remains, as fresh as the interest for the New York Yankees which you instilled in me. Baseball is such a banal thing but it fills me with passionate joy, and painful passion. The joy, remembering driving home Wednesday evenings after church, their game…
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An emotional Yankees Baseball Moment (for my father)
You inhaled last at 6:01 that morning in the month of March, 2001, and yesterday I thought of you. Twenty-three years is a very long time, yet the freshness of you remains, as fresh as the interest for the New York Yankees which you instilled in me. Baseball is such a banal thing but it…
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If the adult is the result of the child…
how incomplete is a growth if some memories are gone, ignored, or not mastered?
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A complex simplicity in reference to childhood memories on taste
A spiritual and intellectual approach to eating has been a focus as of late. This approach is by no means a new phase but rather a zooming-in by way of reduction being dramatically intensified — more singularity per dish, as opposed to a variety of up to five items on a plate, and items being…
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When a reflection descends
where does it settle down? Onto the realm of cognition? Around the heart? Does it settle with memories of greatness? Does it settle with questions on why we have done the wrong we have? When we float in reflection where does the memory go? Towards affirmation or into questions?
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On this very moment, as I write this, just a minute ago…
or less, I broke out in laughter, remembering… It was the early eighties when I was in my room, listening attentively to Philip Glass. My father called to me gently: “Your record is skipping!”
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Childhood outside the box
Somewhat obscure, cloudy, is the childhood memory of a sweet dish which was always served in accompaniment, never as a piece for focus. The inner skin of grapefruits (oranges or limes, too) would be cocked for hours with spices and sugar, until it became syrup. Another memory is of a more common, children’s joy, namely,…
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Celebration Day — nineteen
Joy. That is, perhaps, the true beginning of hedonism, as Aristippos intended it — a state which is truly there to elevate the spirit. Joy has deep roots, and long, bushy branches. Joy encompasses smiles and tears alike. On a given Wednesday, my daughter crossed the Atlantic to be with my father. He had tears…
Sila Blume 