.SOMETIMES RAW.

“There were days, rainy gray days, when the streets of Brooklyn were worthy of a photograph, every window the lens of a Leica, the view grainy and immoble. We gathered our colored pencils and sheets of paper and drew like wild, feral children into the night, until, exhausted, we fell into bed. We lay in each other’s arms, still awkward but happy, exchanging breathless kisses into sleep.” ― Patti Smith

I saw the book “Just Kids” by Patti Smith by chance on my way out of Barnes and Noble and the cover caught my eye. I never heard of Patti Smith before but I thought I give it a try. Needless to say I was hooked after two pages. This book is awesome. Let’s dive right in. 

The story is about two young artists who grew and learned together. Patti moved to New York in the 60s at a very young age to try to make it on her own. On her journey she met struggling artist Robert Mapplethorpe under funny weird circumstances. Both were inseparable every since – at point it seemed that they become ONE.  “What will happen to us?” I asked. “There will always be us,” he answered. There was this initial naivety I felt from both characters initially but they never lose their idealism so it seems okay how they live their lives together almost in poverty. What I loved about their story was that they never gave up on their dreams. And  if you want the real story of the starving artists in NYC back in the 60s? Read this book. 

The book will guide you through the spiritual art world of the 60s and 70s in New York City and you will “meet” these great artists who Patti and Robert met throughout their journey. Patti Smith wrote her memoir in very specific details when it comes to her intellectual encounters. They knew Sam Shepard, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin by simply running into them on the street going out for a cup of coffee. You will find out about other artists, poetry, musicians and of course how she met my beloved Allen Ginsberg in a café when she was was starving and had no money to purchase food. 

“I turned around and it was Allen Ginsberg. We had never met but there was no mistaking the face of one of our great poets and activists. I looked into those intense dark eyes punctuated by his dark curly beard and just nodded. Allen added the extra dime and also stood me to a cup of coffee. I wordlessly followed him to his table, and then plowed into the sandwich.”

I love how clear and catching Smith writes this memoir. Her use of words and the way she describes her love for Robert made me tear up occasionally. Patti and Robert act like each others muse while they wander the streets of New York City and create art. It is also interesting to read that most artists struggled at that time. Smith wrote that “Gregory Corso made lists of books for me to read, told me the best dictionary to won, encouraged and chilled me. Corso, Allen Ginsberg, and William Burroughs were all my teachers, each one passing thorough the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel, my new university.” which I thought was amazing. I wish I would have lived in the 70s in the city. 

Robert was the artist of her life as she stated even though they went hungry several times and were constantly looking for a new place to live it seemed. Whatever they needed to do, they had their common ground. I have to admit that I never heard of Robert Mapplethorpes before either. I do know many artists but for some reason …. well shame on me I guess. I will most certainly read a biography on him because now I am hooked. His polaroids are controversial at points but simply amazing. “I don’t think,” he insisted. “I feel”. Here is one of his artworks that I loved:

It rarely happens that a book moves me to tears but Smith did a great job of simply describing her story with such honesty, clarity, directness, sincerity and tenderness that I could not help but share her book here with you besides wiping away a tear or two. 

If you want to read great prose, pick up Patti Smith’s book “Just Kids”. 

Enjoy if you read it and please share your thoughts. 

“Give me such shows — give me the streets of Manhattan!” –  Walt Whitman

I had a conversation with my husband a while ago about me spending a night (preferably a Friday night) at my godmothers’ house in the village whenever I am back in the States. This meant for him to be home with our son and I can be ‘free’ for almost two days. This great opportunity arrived and I was at the train station nice and early – ready to discover the city once again starting from Grand Central. What’s a woman to do when she finds herself in midtown Manhattan arriving at breathtaking Grand Central Station and has the entire rest of the day, evening, night and the next day to herself – son-free and husband-free? Go and get a cup of coffee and a muffin at Starbucks first. Then sit in Tudor City Park and enjoy my breakfast while taking everything else in. Tudor City is where my husband and I used to live; our old neighborhood, the oh so familiar smell of exhaust fumes, the craziness and constantly honking cabs on 2nd Avenue and 42nd Street. A woman unfolded her yoga mat in front of me and started to do all sort of poses not even bothered by me.  All I really wanted was some sort of quiet spot for a while to sit but of course this is nearly impossible. 

I look up and all I see are glimpses of sun here and there while I sat mostly in the shade due all the tall buildings. A familiar feeling I used to have when I lived in the city – this weird strange cold sunlight. Looking out of my window in Tudor City it struck me that it was difficult to see the stars at night so how is it even possible to dream? The city that never sleeps?

“What is this strange smell?” I asked myself.  I looked around but didn’t see anything special. Is it the smell of fall or just someone who sleeps behind the bushes on a cardboard? I did not want to find out so I moved on. I had to run some errands at the UN and stopped and chatted with my friends which I enjoyed. It was good seeing them and even though we are connected through the online world it is always better to chat in real life. 

As soon as I was done with “work-stuff” I started walking to see what had changed, what had newly opened and what closed and what was going on beyond. The city was in this felt rare state of transition preparing for fall or the colder weather at least. Everywhere in the stores I already saw the latest winter selection but for some reason it seemed that nobody wanted to let go of the warmth of this summer yet.

I prefer walking on Park Avenue. I love this contrast of richness of Park Avenue that somehow transfers 180 degrees as soon as you reach Union Square where actors and artists try to survive. I walked to one of New York’s best French Restaurant Les Halles but did not stop there this time. For all this matter I was on a mission to discover new things. I walked and walked and did not pay attention to the time anymore. It seemed I saw the whole world passing by. Women wore the latest fashion and still screaming in their phones that were put on speaker, hailing a cab and drinking a cup of Starbucks venti -venti -decaf -soy -mocca-someting-latte at the same time. It still amazes me how they do it. The entire time I thought: “This is not where I want to be anymore but I love it all the same!” I came back and it felt like I never left. Nothing really changed. Old stores got replaced by new ones; however, it seems the city does not keep moving, does not evolve. People come and people go but the city remains. I try to soak up every moment as I continued straight to my favorite bookstore. I missed it and as soon as I stepped in the magic caught me again. Like way back when after I entered for the first time. As I browsed through the isles I thought how lucky I am to have this time for myself, to explore, reflect, remember and to build great new memories. 

I purchased two books and a chocolate bar and decided to stay at Union Square to enjoy the craziness of this park a bit longer. I sat down next to a saxophone player when I opened the first page of my book but I could not concentrate on the written word. I realized that there was simply so much to look at, observe and take in so I just people-watched until the sun disappeared behind one of the buildings. It is time to meet my godmother for dinner. 

I walked and I smiled. 

“Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.” —James Baldwin

I wrote this post because I forgot my grandfather’s 90th birthday on the 24th. I mean, how is this even possible? I put the date on all my calendars, put reminders on my phone and laptop but for whatever inexcusable reason I simple did not think of actually calling him. Well, I apologized and called the next day but still. I hate when things like this happen because my family is so important to me. I want to dedicate this post to my grandfather and want to tell him how much I love him. 

Have you seen the movie “La Tete en friche” (“My Afternoon with Margueritte”)? The story is about an illiterate man (Gerard Depardieu) who becomes friend with the well-read Margueritte. Beautiful acting and a great story. If you look at the picture above what do you see or think? When was the last time you listened to an elderly person? I am very fortunate to still have two grandmas and two grandpas and they are able to see their great-great grandchildren. Wow! Amazing no? I usually talk to both at least once a week just to check in. Unless I forget my grandfather’s birthday. (Hoooly….!)

It is really irrelevant at what point one considers himself elderly. Age is just a number. My question here is though, when was the last time you have really spoken to someone elderly in your family or otherwise? I think it is just important to do so. Keep in mind that there comes a time when you won’t be able to see grandma or grandpa anymore standing next to their graveside and then you wish you would have stopped by more often with a piece of cake and some coffee. There are many reasons to not stop by, I know. They bother and they are boring etc., however, I don’t want to be living in regret and I make time to visit my grandparents even though I did not feel like it sometimes. I know they love my company and especially whenever I bring my son. It simply brightens their day. Go there today, or call them. Time flies! It might be too late tomorrow. 

What is one thing you learn more than anything when it comes to elderly people? Yes, patience. They are obviously slower than you – well not all of them but you get the point. They simply do everything slower because they are old. Their body is old. We live in this fast-paced world where everything seems to fly by so why not taking it a couple of steps back (literally) and stop and smell the roses with them. Elderly are usually never in a rush, and you should not be either. Whenever I am at my grandparents place I take my time and talk to them. And believe me, they have so many great stories it is amazing. When I have nothing to really ask I just let them tell me the story of their childhood and they go on and on – sometimes even tearing up. 

I think in some way it makes them live longer. They feel that they belong because someone is still interested in what they have to say. To tell them funny stories so they can really laugh out loud with tears in their eyes makes me happy to. My parents’ neighbor came over one afternoon and sat in the kitchen with my mom. My son did something cute and funny, I forgot what it was. What I did not forget was how the elderly woman laughed and laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. She left my mom’s house and said she felt so good and that she didn’t have a good laugh like this in a long time. 😀

It is just important that the elderly can memorize and remember things; so just listen and keep them in your life by making room for them. And if you stop by for a little chat you can even help them with technology. Have you ever wondered how hard it is for some of them to even turn on a TV to the right channel? My brother usually helps my grandparents to set the TV so that they can record their shows and they love it whenever he stops by. The simple things matter. 

Maybe you find some wisdom for yourself. Just appreciate that they are still around to talk to. It is important to think outside the box for a minute or two. To just not be selfish and if they call for help to go and help them or encourage them. Of course you can drop of a good book you have read. Most importantly do it for their good and not for yours. 

Maybe my son will bring me a piece of cake and something good to read at some point.