Walks in the Park

Love is simple, love is kind. Love is not jealous. It delights in good and not evil. And so it goes. What is love? and why is it since babies we cry when we don't have it? Moment by moment we want to be held, fed, sang to, cared for. Then we grow up and become adults, but does that need for love ever change? Maybe instead of milk what we ask for is bigger paychecks, more hugs, more sex from the wife, more awards (letters of recognition). What is love? and what does it mean to love? At the preschool in Art I put Auris loves _______. And I didn't know what to put down next. What do I love? What do I actively love? Sure I love cannolis, but I don't paint murals of them in the streets. Or yell out my love and  tell the world. I definitely don't have them more than a couple of times a year, only when I'm in a pizzeria and it's on the menu then I remember that I love them and get them. How about my kids at the preschool? I love them from 8:30...

Today at the preschool, I played hide and seek. I was hiding and the suspense was killing me. There I was, waiting to be found. The kids didn't look for me. Eventually I had to get out of the hiding place. I feel the same way in my personal life.  All my life, waiting for a prince to find me. Hiding away, not experiencing the fullness of the world. Wanting someone to come and rescue me. Nicole Murphy once said in an interview "Don't wait for someone to bring you flowers; plant your own garden." But I have to remind myself of that, that joy can be mine. On Friday when my date got cancelled I decided to still go to the city. It turned out to be one of the funnest nights. I texted my college roommate and we ended up heading out to Brooklyn to a Christian café. I met her fiancé and got to chill with her cousin Robyn, whose energy and spirit lifts me up every time I see her. Jain, one of the preschoolers, he shuts down and walks away when he doesn...

It's the beginning of summer. Pondering how I should do my hair and makeup. On me: I don't do makeup. I just like looking natural. But I'm not sure why, I'm on this pretty woman thing. I want to look my best. It matters, just like it did back in high school.                            I like how Mya's curly hair is formal.                      Really feeling black hair right now, think                      will dye my hair black (now its dark brown                    and I think it makes it look dry when it's curly). Pretty and delicate yet tough. Good makeup look to try.

When I was in college, my brother gave me a gold plated necklace. I HATE gold. I was upset that he didn't know that. I thought everyone knew that. He could have asked somebody. When I was younger he gave me a  Golden Moments Plate with my birthday month, July on it. That memory is bad to me because I was in 8th grade and the class had just come back from Christmas break. The teacher was going around and people were saying what they got for Christmas. Everyone got clothes, and games and all this stuff. Their lists had sentences with more than one word. They got to me and I said plate. And everyone laughed. 'A plate?' teacher asked. I said, well it said July for my birthday month my brother gave it to me. I was so embarrassed. One, for being poor I guess. That's not accurate in Dominican Republic I was poor but so was everyone else, so it didn't matter. I guess it was the economic disparity. Everyone got all these nice gifts and I got a plate. When I looked ...

It's something I see everyday. There is a kid crying because he wants to play with a toy, and the  kid with the toy s till doesn't want to give him the toy because he wants to play with it. At that moment, the temporary pleasure of having what you want is more important than sacrificing and giving someone else the same pleasure. We rather cut off someone's arm than cut our own. Give someone else pain if it means that we are comfortable. Hello, Hurricane Katrina. New Orleans is soaked and the rich flew away. Familiar to the boat in the Titanic, the rich people were in boats waiting for a rescue crew. Waiting meant sitting around  hearing the gasps of desperation of their fellow men that they left behind. Hearing the sounds of the splash of men being thrown into the chilling frost-giving waters. Waiting meant hearing all the gasps and signs of life fading into a chilly, deathly silence. All this while they had space in the boat for more. ...

  I work in a preschool. I am blessed to see these kids smile and have fun with them. Today we went for a walk and Victor cried, like he always does, because he wanted to eat. Then at mealtime, he cried, like he always does, says he doesn't like milk and potatoes and meatballs. Basically, all there was to eat. Miss Melanie came and used the bread to make a meatball sandwich and all of a sudden, he started eating. When little kid problems get solved, I feel like world peace is possible.

There is something romantic about parks. When I want to clear my head, talk to God, or just walk I always end up in a park. I used to live 3 blocks away from one. I will go there at night, away from the noise, the people, hustle and bustle of the city. When the darkness takes over,  the park has a magical feature. It's an escape. Before I moved out, I went to the park around 5 in the morning. It was pitch dark, I was scared to death but dared myself to push myself past my fear. I was surprised to see that there were other people there. If you want to really get to know someone, both of you should turn off the phone, turn off distractions and go for a walk in the park. So here I hope to share with you the walks I have in the park. My outfits, my ideas, my inspirations, what is important to me or what I'm learning from life at that point. After a walk in the park, I am clear-headed and more sure. I get back to me. I hope this does the same ...