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Wednesday, 22 April 2015

Calling all former field hockey players

Here is a shameless plug: I am forming a team. 

If you are in the Rochester area, used to play hockey in either high school or college, and are interested in getting back into the sport recreationally, send me a message! Ideally we'd meet once a week to practice, scrimmage, and so forth, either at a local park or school field. I've never coached before and it's been many years since I've played, so this would be something very low-key.

Have already had a couple of responses so far…ladies, get those sticks out!

And before any eagle-eyes point out that the stick above is curved on the left, I know :)

Tuesday, 7 April 2015


Somewhere, far away from here, three friends of mine are sitting on a hillside sketching in Italy. A shame to miss Bologna this year and our post-fair travels. But the windows in the new place face east, so at least I am pointed in the right direction for next year. 

Friday, 3 April 2015

Onwards and upwards

See you in September, skating friends.

Luckily, the ice rink is right next to the boathouse on the river, which can only mean one thing: learning to row is the next adventure!

Sunday, 22 March 2015

End of the season

What a long and beautiful winter it has been. In two weeks the rink will close and I will very shortly be in the throes of some serious skating-withdrawal. It will be good to have warm weather again, but I miss the snow already. In all honesty…next winter cannot come soon enough!

Last week I had such an amazing and unexpected surprise: a trophy for the "Most Improved Skater 2014-15"! Engraved and everything. These guys at the rink are so kind and so sweet. Did you know they chip in and give all the ladies chocolate for Valentine's Day every year? Something like twenty boxes… 

Don't know how I managed to come across this wonderful and new community of people, but they skated into my life and completely transformed the start of 2015 for me :)

Friday, 20 March 2015

First Day of Spring

Happy Norooz! Wishing you the very best today: it is the first day of spring; it is the Persian New Year!

Monday, 16 February 2015

Forty Portraits in Forty Years

The Museum of Modern Art, New York. Gift of the artist, copyright 2014 Nicholas Nixon

My mother came across a fascinating article and collection of photographs on the New York Times website two evenings ago and I couldn't help but share them here.

The pictures themselves speak volumes, but in two lines: four sisters, photographed together every year, someplace in New England, since 1975. A simple idea but with stunning results. The tiny loving gestures, expressions, and the lines and cares that start to creep into each face over time…all beautiful and haunting.

White says in OFK, "She looked singularly lovely, not like a film star, but like a woman who had grown a soul." That is what I see in these ladies' images. Imagine if we could see all of our lives laid out in photographs this way?

While working at the bookshop I often heard people say that they wished there was a book on such-and-such topic. I think I would like to see more picture books that deal with memories and with aging.

At the ice rink there are a group of older men who come every day to the open skate. Some are former hockey players, but all have skated since they were little. They are like the American version of my older English friends. David, Jeffrey, Gordon, Nigel, Roger, Colin, Phil, and Fred have become Bob, John, Bill, Doug, Kenny, Steve, Rich, and Frank. Instead of talking about art and music and life in East Anglia, we talk more about sports and the news and life in western New York. A couple of them may be a little creaky off the ice, and maybe the speed they once had has slowed, but there is a deftness and a grace in their footwork. Sometimes, in a fleeting second or two, they seem young again that way, and in the smile in their eyes.

White writes: "She had made the brave protest: I will not be vanquished….The young eyes were puzzled, saying: It is I, inside here -- what have they done to me? I will not submit….They said: Don't look at all this. Look at me. I am still here, in the eyes. Look at me, here in the prison, and help me out. Another part said: I am not old, it is illusion. I am beautifully made-up. See, I will perform the movements of youth. I will defy the enormous army of age."

One of the men told me that they start to worry when one of the group doesn't show up for a day or two. They tell me about some of their friends who used to come but have since died. And one day, there will be an empty space in these photographs. But that is what makes it all so beautiful, no?