Pink Panther

I am amazed to see how much my sons enjoyed watching Pink Panther today. Thanks to Netflix, they can watch up to 120 episodes of this wonderfully entertaining series.

What they view on the so-called children's television is plain ridiculous. I have put much energy in trying to prevent my boys from watching these violent characters. I knew it would be impossible to stop them thus I offered them so many other options that they never had the time to watch Ben 10 when I bombarded them with the smurfs, Lazy Town, Pink Panther, Twitty etc. The stuff that you actually laugh at.

I remember Pink Panther very clearly but I have not noticed just how unfortunate he is. He means well. He tries hard. He is not evil. Nor is he clumsy. Just all the bad stuff happens to him. He is always at the wrong place at the wrong time. He is at the same time able to laugh at himself.

 I know people like that. Others rarely understand their inner world which they long to share but never get the chance to. Pink panthers who look strong, able, and problem resistant are mostly alone...They never complain. They never cry. They just deal with it...

I had nicknamed my first love Pink Panther when I was in the sixth grade. Don't know why. Ironically, I grew up to be a pink panther myself....






                                                                                              I did not know that....

   When Blake Edwards dies in 2010 at the age of 88, he was working on a broadway musical called "The Pink Panther".....

A time for silence...

I went to AGO today. Art Gallery of Ontario. The goal was to see the Chagall and the Russian Avant-Garde exhibit before it was over. What a day!

I was amazed at how inspirational it was for me to stand near those masterpieces of all time. Chagall, Kandinsky, Monet, Picasso...Breathing that air, reading life stories of the artists that gave life to these priceless brush strokes made me feel insignificantly mortal and yet potentially spiritually eternal!

They loved and lived as if it is never going to end.. When they were painting on the streets of Paris, exiled from home, anguished by war, poverty, revolution, their faith, courage and incredible will to create surfaced, only to make this bitter world a better place to live in.

You pay 25 dollars to get in to AGO.  It is not allowed to touch, even get close to these paintings. There are security personnel at every corner. People come with walkers, strollers, wheel chairs. People come from across the country. People (ages from 10-90 literally!) sit at the benches facing a wall-sized painting, staring, thinking, reflecting, just being...

In their silences they come together to celebrate humanity, history and yes courage. In my silences, among them, I found peace.

I talk too much these days anyway...

                                                                                          I did not know that...

Leonardo Da Vinci enjoyed purchasing caged birds so that he could set them free...

Food For Thought

Washington Post today.... posts a childless friend of mine in Facebook. “ Is it worth having children? Would you do it all over again?” asks the author. I am not shocked to see the responses, questioning how anyone would approach to raising a family in the manner that the viewer has.  It almost sounds like they are referring to buying an expensive car, changing jobs, even getting married...Wow...

I am in the very challenging, emotionally rewarding, at times heart-breaking, but mostly breathtaking and definitely bringing-out-the-best-in-me process of raising two wonderful children that God has blessed me with. I am a MOTHER and ever since I have been a mother, I wonder whether being anything else in life (daughter, friend, wife) has been as dazzling.

So I am not even bothering to answer that question; nevertheless I am posing my own...  How has being a parent altered the way I view the world, myself and loved ones? Not an easy question. Not a short answer.  

I will ponder on this now...

                                                                                            I did not know....

"Babies like Wednesday's: The day on which most babies are born is Wednesday. But for over 15 years, it was Tuesday."

Someday...Somewhere...

I spent the majority of the day sending Cv's to a great variety of corporations. Greater variety than I had hoped for. (Even entry level positions after 15 years of work experience.)

Job search is a painful process. Sending a millions resumes is like screaming in a nightmare. Noone hears you no matter how you try. Your struggles are fruitless. Not a phone call. Not even a simple thank-you-we-received-your-cv  e-mail. Come on now!

Honestly, I enjoyed being unemployed more in the nineties. At least  the companies had the decency to get back to you in some way or another. I remember very clearly being rejected by Coca Cola and CNN (Atlanta head quarters). They had manners.

Last but not least, how come anyone is supposed to gain local experience when no local firms give you the benefit of a doubt because you have no local experience!

Delayed!

I went to the airport today. That was the highlight of my day. As expected, I got lost on the way, ended up in the wrong terminal and got back on the highway trying find the parking lot.

I find airports amazing. I was there two hours before the arrival time and I did not mind at all. I ate first. Pearson has the best hot dog. Then I settled at a our-patrons-only table for more than an hour and a half with only a can of coke in my hand.

I watched silently. International arrivals must be one of the most romantic and dramatic places to be at the airport. Hugs are tighter, tears are commonplace. People are dressed nicely and enjoy waiting right in front of the doors behind the thick glass so that they can be spotted immediately by their loved ones.

Needless to say I had tears long before I welcomed my father. The sight of a grandmother that was almost knocked down by the enthusiatic embraces of her two grandchildren, the dissapointment on the face of the nervous man with the red roses when she did not arrive afterall, the christmas camp group of ten year old boys that were flooded with love from the mothers whose have been waiting patiently for the very delayed plane. When it was my time for uniting with family, I was more than ready....

If you feel as gloomy as I do after a visit to the hospital or a trip to the ER, taking a short trip to the Arrivals terminal is the best thing you can do in order to remind yourself of hope and the beautiful moments in this rollercoaster called life.

I arrived home late. I got lost on the way out and took the right highway but towards the wrong direction! Do all the airports have to be soo complicated?

Discipline The Lazy Soul of Mine

"Writing should not be neglected" used to say my screenwriting teacher, Mr. Geller. A free soul. A brave man of ideas and ideals. Those were the days when we all imagined ourselves as the Tennessee Williams', Marquez's of the 21th century. When the year 2000 came, at the turn of the century, with sufficient help from the Almighty, we would have taken the right turns to reach our final destination of self-satisfaction in our career paths. We dreamt that we touch base years later through some high tech medium only to congratulate each other for our individual achievements.

There was no facebook then. So we almost never lost touch. And as years passed us by, it became more and more apparent that 27 is not such an old age after all. In fact, some even made peace by the wrong turns they took by time they were forty. Not me. Not me.

Mr. Geller was first to find out and point out that I was a coward. He repeatedly expressed his concern over students who had the potential but lacked the courage or discipline to write. I was one of them. He even awarded us with a certification of achievement although it was quite clear to me even then that it was intended to motivate us to find our inner voice.

My efforts to start writing during the last twenty years have proven to be futile. I always had someone or something to blame. There was never enough time because of a fast-starting career and the long working hours. Unemployment can be quite distressing. Depression was the scape goat between jobs. Having a baby first time certainly hindered my attempts, mostly due to being too over joyed or too emotional at any given day. Second baby only meant less mommy-time and more cuddles, more nursery rhymes, more reflecting on our purpose in life and humanity. It was loud in my head for a very very long time. So loud that I could not sleep or walk sometimes without virtual writing.

Even my shrink whom I went to see once a year or so just to get some advice or deal with a predicament gave up on me. After a couple of years and five or six visits, he said it out loud. Either I just did not want to write or was too scared too.

I was scared to write anything that would be dishonest and anything that is honest. I was not disciplined either. The timing, the inspirational backsplash music, the feeling was never right. I just could not sit my bottom in front of the screen even for a little while, even to create some piece of literature that is utterly hideous! I cleared the very angry image of Mr. Geller from my mind and succeeded in finding an excuse each and every time. Self-comfort with an untold guilt embedded deep with in.

So here is a chance to discipline this lazy soul of mine! May the words be as loud on the pages as they are in my mind. With sufficient help from the Almighty... With some courage just to try..

First Day of the Year - A New Year's Resolution finally Realized

So many years now... Having promised myself to start writing in some form or another, I have never had the courage to do so. As the experiences have accumulated, so have the untold feelings, fears, regrets, accomplishments. Life is designed to give us another chance. Every birthday, every new year even every new day reminds me that we can always start all over again.

I am starting all over again. With no expectations from this journey that I am undertaking, I am unsure about the shape this blog will take in time. All the sentences that have been crammed in the attic of my mind and in the unsurfaced corners of my heart are begging to come out. I am yearning to set them free.

I am a full-time mother, wife, daughter, and an unrelenting lover of life. This is my blog. This is my life. Be it ordinary, be it boring... This is my dream....