There is a language to art. Beyond its aesthetic beauty it creates a compelling, undeniable dialogue with the audience. Through the body of her work, international artist, Linda Richichi, has translated an entire universe into this language. It is as rich in depth as all abstract languages, like music or mathematics.
Richichi’s paintings disclose themselves over time to be explored and interpreted by the audience. Some with the deep dark tones of baritone, some sharp in their discord and angles, still others flow and collapse into congruent circles, eyes appearing veiled in hidden grays and blues and yellows. Together they are an invitation into the artist’s universe. Rich in color and fully engaging, one must move slowly to do justice to her vision. Each piece is a part of a larger truth, and to own a series, or even one painting, is to participate fully in Richichi’s passion.
Not to be defined by one genre, this artist has one theme within all of her work: She demands that we be awakened. Frame after frame, paintings and pastels offer their voices as loud as any aria. Joined together, they fill the room with a cacophony of sound. Linda’s exhibitions stand in amazing witness to her intensity. Canvasses line the walls – moments translated into color.
“Some days I am pulled to paint in nature "en Plein Air" (in open air). With the sun at my back I connect to the energy, the spirit of the land. This energy is depicted in my works through marks, squiggles and vibrant colors that are the main characters of a story set in the landscape that calls for me to capture it. These marks are where the messages from our soul lie and they reveal themselves over time when the viewer is ready to comprehend (myself included).”
Throughout the body of her work, Linda orates many themes: the landscape, the wellness collection, “soul-traits” (vibrant portraits that capture the soul of her subject – often leaving their physical resemblance outside the piece altogether). These soul-traits are her most personal work, and are on commission only – a rare “inner glimpse” of oneself.
Richichi has exhibited extensively including the prestigious National Arts Club in New York. Her work is in private, public, government and museum collections around the world, as well as many corporate collections. It is featured in several healing centers; in all three area hospitals, with prints in Cornwall and St. Luke’s; as well as an original series in the birthing center of Orange Regional Medical Center. Linda was included in the International Artist Magazine in 2005, under Master Painters of the World.
“For me, painting is a pilgrimage. I have one focus no matter what I do, to awaken to who and what I am; and by doing so, I hope my work leads the way for others to see the truth that lies beyond fear.”
Richichi’s mission is, indeed, to awaken us through art. Her work is featured in the World Tour Exhibition of Contemporary Landscape Artists titled “Far and Near Horizons” run by the International Plein Air Painters and Landscape Artists International. This exhibit travels both in North America and internationally. For galleries hosting the World Tour exhibit click on “World Tour Artist” on Linda’s website at http://www.lindarichichi.com/.
Each work by Linda Richichi is its own universe. Owning one of Richichi’s paintings is to partake in a meditation of the possible and to join an international chorus of her works. She is represented by Fieldstone Fine Art in Ramsey, New Jersey, and you may visit her website at http://www.lindarichichi.com/.
Signature Member of the International Plein Air Painters
Signature Member of the New York Plein Air Painters
Charter Member of Landscape Artists International
Juried Member of Pastel Society of America
Portrait Society of America, Founding member
Friday, June 6, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Christine Ness
So May must be photographers’ month for me. Last week I featured a great outdoor photographer (www.billjagdephotography.com), Bill Jagde. Bill’s passion for our National Parks resonated with a lot of my readers, especially those in my age bracket who grew up here in Monroe.
Today, I am compelled to write about another great photographer, Christine Ness. Where Bill’s specialty is all about outside, I would have to say that Christine’s is all about inside. Whether she’s shooting someone in Central Park for their website, snapping “fly-on-the-wall” shots of your kids for the day, or grabbing that one perfect picture of a flower, Christine just seems to unlock the soul of her subject.
Chris has an ability to brilliantly capture the essence of her subject’s spirit; to wait, patiently, for that exact moment when angle and shadow meet the light in someone’s eye or the glint in their smile. You can almost feel the soft innocence of a baby’s cheek or the protective, benevolent branches of a tree reaching out to you.
Christine’s patience is exactly the magic that happened when we met to do my photo in Central Park. To begin with, I was pretty uptight about having anyone take my picture. I had gotten more than enough unsolicited feedback about the one I had been using (big glasses, permed hair – I guess it was a little outdated). But I definitely did NOT want something that looked like I had walked into the mall or megamart – or worse, some corporate looking facade – that part of my life is over.
Chris chatted away as we began, patiently taking fifteen or twenty shots on a beautiful bench, distracting me with laughter from the lines on my face and the fullness of my cheeks. When sitting became unbearable, fueled by fits of hilarity because we could both remember the theme to, “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father,” I got up and walked behind a beautiful braided tree that reached into the trellis above us. As I peeked around from behind that tree, laughing, Chris snapped the picture. I didn’t even realize she had the camera in her hand.
That picture speaks volumes to me. It says things that I hadn’t even realized were true. It says that woman is joyous and free-spirited, that she loves her life. In fact, I don’t see one line on her face. THAT is what Christine does. She translates deeper truths and precious moments.
Chris has many specialties: pregnant moms, kids being kids, natural setting headshots and portraits, she even recognizes that the family pet deserves a GREAT picture on the mantel. She has many great, affordable packages – you can hire her to go on vacation with your family – or simply meet her in the park for an hour of impromptu, fly-on-the-wall portraits of your kids. You can also pick up a package of custom, hand-made pictures mounted onto cards to send to your dad in Alaska or use them throughout the year for special occasions. (A package of ten cards is a great buy at $50 – can you say shower gift?)
Chris stressed to me, over and over, during our interview that her work is precious to her. Her passion to serve others through her gift is honestly hard to miss. She started taking pictures when she was just eleven or twelve years old with a little Kodak 110 camera and graduated to a Poloroid One Step, shared by her entire family. Years later, she would invest in a great 35-millimeter and begin to take classes at the International Center of Photography in New York, learning dark room and lighting techniques and putting together photo essays for assignments like “Chaos.”
I asked Chris what Chaos looked like to her, and she got lost in thought, “There was a crowd bursting with people outside FAO Schwartz… there is a shot of an overturned trashcan with a store-front gate covered in grafitti behind it… another was a traffic jam on 5th Avenue.” I found myself wishing to flip through those photos that she took so long ago. To Christine (and I suspect to most of us), they read like poetry.
On her website http://www.christineness.com/, you can spot some of the intimacy and vulnerability Chris brings to her work; she is the silent witness to the world around her, bringing something rare to those she works with, something that most of us simply do not have, an objective view into the day-to-day beauty that is our lives.
**************************************************************************
You've Been Framed!
Unique, Designer Cards and Prints
by Professional Photographer Christine Ness
Preview and Purchase Christine's Exclusive Line of Designer Cards that Capture the Beauty of Every Day Life.With her camera's eye, Christine frames precious and amazing images of life as it happens around us -- she captures those moments that we may be too distracted by life's hurry and worry to even notice.
Christine's Designer Photo Cards are a unique way to say to your closest friend, mom or wife that her day-to-day beauty does not escape you. That like Christine's pictures, you see the treasure she is and that each moment you have together is rare and alive in your heart.Visit Christine's website at www.christineness.com.
Christine Ness, Professional Photographer
Specializing in Natural Setting Portraits
917-715-2015
**************************************************************************
Today, I am compelled to write about another great photographer, Christine Ness. Where Bill’s specialty is all about outside, I would have to say that Christine’s is all about inside. Whether she’s shooting someone in Central Park for their website, snapping “fly-on-the-wall” shots of your kids for the day, or grabbing that one perfect picture of a flower, Christine just seems to unlock the soul of her subject.
Chris has an ability to brilliantly capture the essence of her subject’s spirit; to wait, patiently, for that exact moment when angle and shadow meet the light in someone’s eye or the glint in their smile. You can almost feel the soft innocence of a baby’s cheek or the protective, benevolent branches of a tree reaching out to you.
Christine’s patience is exactly the magic that happened when we met to do my photo in Central Park. To begin with, I was pretty uptight about having anyone take my picture. I had gotten more than enough unsolicited feedback about the one I had been using (big glasses, permed hair – I guess it was a little outdated). But I definitely did NOT want something that looked like I had walked into the mall or megamart – or worse, some corporate looking facade – that part of my life is over.
Chris chatted away as we began, patiently taking fifteen or twenty shots on a beautiful bench, distracting me with laughter from the lines on my face and the fullness of my cheeks. When sitting became unbearable, fueled by fits of hilarity because we could both remember the theme to, “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father,” I got up and walked behind a beautiful braided tree that reached into the trellis above us. As I peeked around from behind that tree, laughing, Chris snapped the picture. I didn’t even realize she had the camera in her hand.
That picture speaks volumes to me. It says things that I hadn’t even realized were true. It says that woman is joyous and free-spirited, that she loves her life. In fact, I don’t see one line on her face. THAT is what Christine does. She translates deeper truths and precious moments.
Chris has many specialties: pregnant moms, kids being kids, natural setting headshots and portraits, she even recognizes that the family pet deserves a GREAT picture on the mantel. She has many great, affordable packages – you can hire her to go on vacation with your family – or simply meet her in the park for an hour of impromptu, fly-on-the-wall portraits of your kids. You can also pick up a package of custom, hand-made pictures mounted onto cards to send to your dad in Alaska or use them throughout the year for special occasions. (A package of ten cards is a great buy at $50 – can you say shower gift?)
Chris stressed to me, over and over, during our interview that her work is precious to her. Her passion to serve others through her gift is honestly hard to miss. She started taking pictures when she was just eleven or twelve years old with a little Kodak 110 camera and graduated to a Poloroid One Step, shared by her entire family. Years later, she would invest in a great 35-millimeter and begin to take classes at the International Center of Photography in New York, learning dark room and lighting techniques and putting together photo essays for assignments like “Chaos.”
I asked Chris what Chaos looked like to her, and she got lost in thought, “There was a crowd bursting with people outside FAO Schwartz… there is a shot of an overturned trashcan with a store-front gate covered in grafitti behind it… another was a traffic jam on 5th Avenue.” I found myself wishing to flip through those photos that she took so long ago. To Christine (and I suspect to most of us), they read like poetry.
On her website http://www.christineness.com/, you can spot some of the intimacy and vulnerability Chris brings to her work; she is the silent witness to the world around her, bringing something rare to those she works with, something that most of us simply do not have, an objective view into the day-to-day beauty that is our lives.
**************************************************************************
You've Been Framed!
Unique, Designer Cards and Prints
by Professional Photographer Christine Ness
Preview and Purchase Christine's Exclusive Line of Designer Cards that Capture the Beauty of Every Day Life.With her camera's eye, Christine frames precious and amazing images of life as it happens around us -- she captures those moments that we may be too distracted by life's hurry and worry to even notice.
Christine's Designer Photo Cards are a unique way to say to your closest friend, mom or wife that her day-to-day beauty does not escape you. That like Christine's pictures, you see the treasure she is and that each moment you have together is rare and alive in your heart.Visit Christine's website at www.christineness.com.
Christine Ness, Professional Photographer
Specializing in Natural Setting Portraits
917-715-2015
**************************************************************************
Friday, May 16, 2008
Bill Jagde Photography
Welcome to Life in Monroe, NY. I recently wrote a blog for a client about how children naturally embrace meditation. How they can lay still on the grass with ease, finding images in the clouds or get this close to a butterfly and examine the pollen on his feet and the dust on his wings.
Much to my envy, at 40+ years old, Bill Jagde is still like that kid lost in the glass at the candy store, only Bill’s glass is a camera lens. About a million years ago, Bill went on a couple of vacations and brought along a camera. The kind of camera that sits in everyone’s desk drawer – nothing special, just a camera. But something very special happened for Bill. To be fair, part of it was about the Arizona desert. And while the words, “Arizona Desert,” might mean nothing but tumbleweeds and … well, nothing, to us, to Bill Jagde it is simply foreplay.
After years of friendship, we finally cleared our calendar and went to one of his exhibits when his photos were being featured in Beacon a couple of summers ago. Now as most of you know by now, I am far from visual. I’m a word girl. So the fact that my husband had to drag me OUT of Bill’s show says volumes. We left with a $60 print, all we could afford at that time, and we proudly displayed it in the only place we were allowed by the police – our daughter’s room. (She’s the police, if you haven’t guessed.) Nowhere would do for that picture of the “Mittens” than her room. So at the next show, we made sure to buy two photos. One less expensive print to add to our child’s growing collection of Bill’s work, and one for our living room wall.
Okay, I’ll admit it, we bought the one on our living room wall for my boss. My generous, loving boss who was so good to us – but then we simply couldn’t part with it. We bought him a bottle of wine, and we sat and enjoyed our good thinking over a cup of coffee, as lost in that photo as any kid in a candy store.
Bill’s story is pretty cool, he graduated from that beat up camera to a borrowed one – just to be sure he loved it at much as he thought he did – and then he started investing in his gift (for the technically aware among you, Bill primarily uses a Nikon Digital SLR camera).
Most recently, Bill and his wife went on a second honeymoon to Volcanoes National Park in Hawaii, which he says slightly resembles Mars – craters and steam everywhere. It is a dichotomy, though – tropical jungles overflowing with plants and flowers, set against a backdrop of waterfalls and sunsets live next door to rivers of molten lava cut through miles of black rock and explosions of brilliance and hot gas. Amazingly, Bill captures it all with a box and a lens.How wonderful the universe is, that it still unveils its gifts to us, even when we’re not twenty-one any more. And Bill’s gift has definitely been unveiled. He tours the country visiting his passion – our National Parks – and he shoots them with the eyes of a lover. He brings to life images that the rest of us might actually miss in person. He captures a moment and does what great photographers do, he gives it immortality.
******************************************************************
How to Get Bills Work
We happily discovered that owning a piece of Bill’s art, is very realistic – with simple prints for less than $100 and beautifully framed works from $100 - $600. For not much more, you can talk to Bill about custom sizing and framing any of his works specifically to your own room or collection. If you’re in the Hudson Valley, you can visit Bill’s work on display at the Art House Gallery, 1397 Kings Hwy, Sugar Loaf – or you can view his online collection at http://www.billjagdephotography.com/.
******************************************************************
Declining Attendance at our National Parks
For Bill Jagde, our nation’s national parks are well deserving of the immortality he gives them through his work. They have become something that should never have happened, they’ve become hidden treasures. Our National Park Service estimates that we have experienced an astonishing 90% drop in attendance since 1987 -- 90% less of us will see Yellowstone, The Grand Canyon, Big Bend, Denali, and on and on. We are fortunate in the Hudson Valley to be within an hour of many of New York State’s National Parks and attractions (from Governor’s Island in NYC to Saratoga National Historical Park near Albany).
(Visit http://usparks.about.com/blpkny.htm for a more complete list.) The message in all of Bill’s photographs is clear, these are hidden treasures well worth the effort. And while you may not be able to throw the kids in the station wagon and trek to the Grand Canyon tomorrow, you should definitely make an afternoon to visit and learn about Ellis Island. And whether you go anywhere or not having a piece of Bill’s vision hung on your wall is honestly an every-day oasis – the reminder that somewhere, right now, there is this immensely beautiful place that doesn’t give a crap about my laundry, my work, or my worries. It (and maybe even we) are simply more than that.
- Mary Agnes Antonopoulos (Mary Vetell)
visit my other blogs: http://www.fatgorgeousass.blogspot.com/
http://www.freelancemaryagnes.blogspot.com/
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Organizing Without Agonizing
I remember when I first started working with
The Life I Deserved | Day-to-Day Reality |
Working in a challenging and rewarding career | Endless hours at a so-so job, plus commute |
Being a great spouse and enjoying my partner | Emailing each other just to stay in touch |
Raising great kids | Feeling like an absentee mom |
Keeping up a beautiful home | I’m lucky if I have time to shower |
Having free time for friends and hobbies | Friends? |
Having a savings and a retirement account | Spending so much on takeout and crises, that there was nothing left to save |
Debbye began to gently offer a few simple life skills to help me start to organize my life. It started with clearing away the clutter that had taken over my laundry room. Old cans of paint, half-finished projects, clothes I meant to give away – you name it, it was in my laundry room. With Debbye’s help I started with two boxes and a bag, and three hours later, it was done. “Why did I live in that chaos for so long,” rang in my ears. The feeling of accomplishment every time I walk into the openness and clarity of that laundry room is fantastic.
Then I bought Debbye’s book, “Organizing Without Agonizing,” and I started to put more of her simple tips and solutions into action. Room by room, my house became a home to be proud of. From the back yard to the hall closets, I parted with enough stuff to fill ten homes. This is where the story gets really interesting: The room that this created went FAR beyond empty space. It spelled, "Welcome Home, Mary Agnes Antonopoulos."
Because I had a new, fantastic meal plan, we were able to STOP eating fast food and save a good deal of money – a WIN WIN. With the simple calendar technique Debbye taught me, we no longer ran around apologizing for appointments missed or buying expensive gifts on the way to a party (along with a $4 gift bag). Everything was accounted for, and last-minute was a phrase I threw away with the old paint. I was simply not playing catch up every day of my life; I had created breathing room, and this quickly became room to grow. Here’s what life looks like since I started using the Organizing Without Agonizing solutions:
My Peace-full life |
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Now none of these things happened overnight. Some of them took hard work and planning. Some were just the natural course of embracing a more organized, less chaotic life. I still visit Debbye’s website often for tips and reminders. And right now, the most exciting event on my calendar is Debbye’s upcoming Serenity class. I signed up to be part of her teleseminar -- eight weeks of concentrated tips and life-changing skills. I KNOW the freedom that organizing my life and home brought to my family. Getting to join the small group that Debbye is offering this class to is the best choice and investment I could make today. It is an investment that not only lasts a lifetime, for us, it has simply built a life we love to live.
If any of this speaks to you, or if you need a hand with organizing your home and life, feel free to visit Debbye Cannon's website: www.TheShortcutExpert.com or www.OrganizingWithoutAgonizing.com
Saturday, May 3, 2008
State Farm - Don Roberts
I have been a proud customer of State Farm for a long time -- over ten years. Proud because I choose to go with a great company instead of a cheap company. I'm also proud of the people who represent State Farm here in Monroe -- Don Roberts and Ceil Kelly (and the rest of Don’s terrific team). A few years ago, I lost my engagement ring -- I had handed it to my husband when I went in for spinal surgery, but only an hour later, my husband Tommy had a massive heart attack in the waiting room.
For a young couple, this was beyond devastating. Over the next few weeks, we were focused on Tom's recovery and what this all would mean in our lives, and somehow my ring just never turned up. When Ceil called to see how we were and ask if she could help us in any way (just as a neighbor and friend), I mentioned the additional sorrow about the lost engagement ring. Well, Ceil swung into professional mode in TWO seconds and said that she thought my ring was covered for loss under our homeowners policy. You can guess the end of this story, we were able to replace the ring, and more importantly it continues to represent a beautiful young marriage between two very lucky people. How would anyone ever leave that team or State Farm?
Anyway, I wrote a great article for the State Farm Magazine today, and I thought all my lifeinmonroeNY readers might appreciate it – especially if they need to find a better way to protect their homes and families.
I recently left a high-paying job to pursue my life-long dream of being a freelance writer. As you can imagine, many sacrifices have gone on in my home to support this choice. To begin with, luxuries like great restaurants, new outfits and the vacation we were considering went out the window; next went some of the more basic things like my gym membership and manicures. (I have opted to run around the lake in my hometown every day and to simply keep my nails cut short – not easy for a girlie girl like me). Finally, we have actually hit a point where we have to change what kind of groceries we buy and opt out of some cable TV services.
I am left with two profound questions to ponder day after day. One, Is my dream worth the lifestyle changes it has forced upon my family? (Yep, without a doubt – the wife and mother in this home is so happy and so fulfilled that no one around us would dream of sending me back to investment banking in
It is this: What are we willing (and NOT willing) to edit or remove from our new lives.
State Farm is always at the top of the things that we are simply not willing to change.
I will do a lot of things to save money – after all, I am the mother in this home – and the one with the dream. I will run and hike instead of go to the gym. I will be enormously creative with pasta dinners and discover the magic hidden inside the ever-inexpensive hard-boiled egg. I will clip coupons and mow the lawn myself. I even sold a car to lose a car payment and bought myself a 1988 Dodge Aries K car with no power steering or air conditioning. (This same car even caused my daughter to ask what those hook things on the door were for, to which I blushed and answered, “They roll up the windows, honey.”)
But change my insurance? No way. Saving $300 a year to switch to something represented by a lizard or a caveman? Nope, not me. And what is $300 anyway? Quite literally, it is $25 a month. For an extra $25 a month, I have the profound knowledge that a great company and a great, local guy (Don Roberts in our case) stand on a line with my family every day. Together, they literally stand on the line between us and catastrophe.
They protect us financially in case the life-altering events we all hope will never happen do, somehow, come to pass. They insure my home from things that happen to people every day, like a fire or a robbery. They insure our cars and the people in them from accidents and injury. Finally, they insure the every member of my household in case one of us should pass away. Now I personally plan to live a long and healthy life, but knowing every single day that our good choice to stay with State Farm protects my child and would provide her with the one gift I could leave behind – the chance at the future I would wish for her – well, that’s something I’m not willing to “bargain” with.
State Farm is my good neighbor. It is the one bill that I can honestly feel good about every month. So a special “THANKS” to all of you who work every day to build and offer a great company and great products.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
768 Union Street
I am standing on the worn metal footstool that has a seat that lifts so as to double for a chair when there’s too much company. I am standing, sweating, high up on this footstool. I am cleaning the top of the brown metal hood to my Grandmother’s stove. It is greasy and dusty back here, and I kick myself for not cleaning it more often. I take down the four or five nick nacks and put them in a pail of soapy warm water. The green statue with the orange hair (no doubt someone’s St. Patrick’s Day gift from long ago.) The salt and pepper shakers in the stand that double as a cork screw and church key (Grama Be’s old word for bottle opener), a ceramic bank for change that is shaped like a big mushroom house. The paint is chipped on the spotted mushroom and the plug to the bank has long since dried up and fallen out. If you shake it you can hear one old penny stuck somewhere inside, never to buy a wad of Bazooka or be called good luck on the street.
It is hot today. The apartment is like an oven under the tarpaper black roof, baking us. I open the dumbwaiter and put away the baking pans from the drain and fill the pitcher and water the plants hanging in the small window over the kitchen table, water leaking onto the window sill. Be is in the dining room, playing solitaire and having coffee. It is still early. She comes into the kitchen and mixes boiling water into her instant apple and cinnamon flavored oatmeal. I hug her skinny frame from behind, careful not to break her.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Lakeside Fire Company Ladies Auxiliary - Where has Volunteerism Gone?
Like many of my neighbors, I have been privileged to be part of the fire company on our block. I can remember when we were children (we lived directly next door), and my mother was the President of the Auxiliary. There must have been thirty or forty women participating back then. Now, we are lucky if all eight of us can make the monthly meeting -- and we cannot plan a fundraising event unless ALL of our calendars are in sync, simply because there are too few to be missing anyone on crunch days.
I am always left with a simple question after we leave our monthly meetings -- where is everyone? Where are those thirty women of my mom's generation who were the foundation of Lakeside's Auxiliary? Surely, some have moved (or moved on), but many are still right here in our neighborhood. We discover at our annual Installation Dinner, that other fire companies have the exact same problem -- their auxiliaries barely hang on with five or ten members. What has changed?
Surely, life is not as simple as it was even a generation ago. At that time, it was the anomaly for someone's mom to work full time. The words "child care" were not yet a part of our everyday language. Now, it is the exact opposite. We are thrilled for the mom who simply gets to be home with her kids and be a home maker (the unsung career the women's movement unwittingly stole from us all, in my opinion). [side note: please be tolerant if your opinion on this is different, after working full time in Manhattan and not being able to enjoy my kid for so many years, well, I've earned by feelings on this -- but surely respect yours and anybody's.]
The point of this thought? We don't really have any free time any more. Even the stay-at-home mom often works part time or has her own direct sales thing going (Tupperware Ladies have been replaced with Jewelry Shows, Home Decor, Mary Kay and the dreaded knock-off-pocketbooks). So free time has simply become an oxymoron. It is spent doing laundry.
Adding to this, our society has so overscheduled our children, we have become full-time taxi services, shuttling from school to mad-science to religion to dance to soccer -- you get the picture.
The final nail in the coffin of altruistic neighborhood volunteerism, however, is that it too has become an oxymoron. Our volunteers are all paid. Now here I risk starting yet another debate -- Don't our firemen DESERVE their annuities? The very small gift our community can give back to them???? Of course they do. I'm just saying that as a society, we have risked true altruism for a payoff. Volunteering for its own sake is gone.
And here is the perfect example of this: There are a few women from the old auxiliary who still participate at Lakeside. They're firemen. And the answer to the obvious question of why is often, well why not. Why not get that annuity. If we are giving our time to our community and ten years later our community has an annuity for us, why not?
But you see, there is no annuity for being an auxiliary member. It is 100% voluntary. There isn't any pay off at all, to speak of.
Except the pay off that has stood for as long as mankind has gathered to live in communities -- quite simply, you are my neighbor, this is my community -- this is where I live. It is the same reason that people deliver Meals on Wheels and meet to clean up the side of the road twice a year. This is our home, and in some simple way, that makes us a family.
Auxiliaries used to exist to provide much needed financial and human support to our firefighters -- the financial role has been taken on by municipalities all over the place. But the heart -- the human support -- is still VITALLY necessary. We are the Christmas Parties; we are the neighborhood Halloween Bash; we are (as women have always been) the heartbeat of our homes. Homes that I hope still extend beyond my own front door.
I am always left with a simple question after we leave our monthly meetings -- where is everyone? Where are those thirty women of my mom's generation who were the foundation of Lakeside's Auxiliary? Surely, some have moved (or moved on), but many are still right here in our neighborhood. We discover at our annual Installation Dinner, that other fire companies have the exact same problem -- their auxiliaries barely hang on with five or ten members. What has changed?
Surely, life is not as simple as it was even a generation ago. At that time, it was the anomaly for someone's mom to work full time. The words "child care" were not yet a part of our everyday language. Now, it is the exact opposite. We are thrilled for the mom who simply gets to be home with her kids and be a home maker (the unsung career the women's movement unwittingly stole from us all, in my opinion). [side note: please be tolerant if your opinion on this is different, after working full time in Manhattan and not being able to enjoy my kid for so many years, well, I've earned by feelings on this -- but surely respect yours and anybody's.]
The point of this thought? We don't really have any free time any more. Even the stay-at-home mom often works part time or has her own direct sales thing going (Tupperware Ladies have been replaced with Jewelry Shows, Home Decor, Mary Kay and the dreaded knock-off-pocketbooks). So free time has simply become an oxymoron. It is spent doing laundry.
Adding to this, our society has so overscheduled our children, we have become full-time taxi services, shuttling from school to mad-science to religion to dance to soccer -- you get the picture.
The final nail in the coffin of altruistic neighborhood volunteerism, however, is that it too has become an oxymoron. Our volunteers are all paid. Now here I risk starting yet another debate -- Don't our firemen DESERVE their annuities? The very small gift our community can give back to them???? Of course they do. I'm just saying that as a society, we have risked true altruism for a payoff. Volunteering for its own sake is gone.
And here is the perfect example of this: There are a few women from the old auxiliary who still participate at Lakeside. They're firemen. And the answer to the obvious question of why is often, well why not. Why not get that annuity. If we are giving our time to our community and ten years later our community has an annuity for us, why not?
But you see, there is no annuity for being an auxiliary member. It is 100% voluntary. There isn't any pay off at all, to speak of.
Except the pay off that has stood for as long as mankind has gathered to live in communities -- quite simply, you are my neighbor, this is my community -- this is where I live. It is the same reason that people deliver Meals on Wheels and meet to clean up the side of the road twice a year. This is our home, and in some simple way, that makes us a family.
Auxiliaries used to exist to provide much needed financial and human support to our firefighters -- the financial role has been taken on by municipalities all over the place. But the heart -- the human support -- is still VITALLY necessary. We are the Christmas Parties; we are the neighborhood Halloween Bash; we are (as women have always been) the heartbeat of our homes. Homes that I hope still extend beyond my own front door.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
A Great CPA in Monroe, NY
John Paul Simonson, CPA
When we heard that our accountant John was opening his own business in Harriman, we could not tell people fast enough. You see, John has this way of taking the terror out of money. From simple yearly income tax filing to opening and then closing our own business, John just always showed up with simple answers and rock-solid support.
Money always makes me feel embarrassed and vulnerable. I’d rather tell someone my deep dark secrets, than explain how I could possibly have bounced five checks while I forgot to deposit the paychecks for a solid month. And I am forever grateful that when we closed our café in
I have called John with questions from the simple (“How many deductions does ‘Married/2’ really equal?”) to the sublime (“What percentage of your income do you have to spend on medical bills to declare those as nuclear waste?”).
I am fearlessly starting my own company again, and having an accountant like John who specializes in small businesses is a huge asset. He has helped me to choose the right form for my company and to understand income distributions and FICA, to set my hourly rates high enough to make a profit and to still get the client. He has helped me not to commingle my business assets with my household finances, and to understand how to maximize my deductions and minimize my paperwork.
Although John’s client roster is much larger now and extends from Long Island to
144 Route 17M
PO Box 674
Harriman, NY 10926-0674
Office: 845-238-5061
Cell: 845-662-1961
Fax: 845-238-5062
http://us.f507.mail.yahoo.com/ym/Compose?To=johnsimonsoncpa@yahoo.com
Written by, Mary Vetell
Sunday, April 13, 2008
PIne Tree Elementary
If you're lucky enough to have a kid who goes to Pine Tree in Monroe, you could probably write this blog yourself. When I was about five years old, I started my education in Pine Tree. That was before the population exploded here in Monroe. The school not only went from Kindergarten all the way through 6th grade, but we also had enough room to host "the Harriman kids" in another wing.
I probably learned 99% of everything I would ever need to know by the time I left Pine Tree. I learned about kindness, and I learned that most people I would meet in life would find my kindness to be the equivalent of weakness. I learned that boys did not want girls on their baseball teams, and what you wore would often dictate people's opinion of you. (As adults, slip in "what you drive" and it's a perfect fit.) ...I drive a 1988 Dodge Aries K car, and I carry a $27 purse purchased way back when K Mart was still our main department store. The truth is that the best lesson I learned in Pine Tree was that I was an exceptional and uncommon young woman. That I was self-deprecatory to a fault and way too sensitive. That my sense of humor was very intellectual, and that I talked too much around new people (a nervous habit).
No, I'm wrong... There was a better lesson than all those things. I learned that on the written page, I could create magic. Carol Barry told me that when I was eleven-years old. It became the core of my ability to find peace. I never forgot Carol Barry. She asked me to write and help edit the Pine Tree Pitch from the very first issue they ever put out. Between her warmth and John Warbrick's stern encouragement, I managed to leave Pine Tree with the only thing I would need to survive some pretty tough times ahead: A full pen.
There have been times, years later, that I would stand on the subway platform in Manhattan, paralyzed as trains would race by in every direction. I would be writing, leaned against a support beam, on the back of some garbage scrap paper I found on a random bench. I have been published, and I have been rejected. But I have never been alone. My pen is my peace and my salvation. It is, as Carol Barry promised me, a silent friend through all things.
It is a lifetime later, and my own little girl walks those same halls. She eats in the same cafeteria and borrows books from the same library. It is, in many ways, bizarre to me. Have thirty-five years really gone by so quickly? I see her at certain angles or hear her be much too sensitive to life, and I can see myself through the mirror of time. She is gifted not to talk too much though -- thank Heaven. She is also gifted to have that magical teacher who finds each kid a treasure and obviously loves her vocation.
Teachers like John and Carol somehow unearth the brilliance in every student that goes through their classrooms. They build futures and unearth once-in-a-lifetime gems. If you don't live in Monroe and your kids don't go to Pine Tree, well quite simply, you should move.
In gratitude and peace, and in memory of my good friend, Carol Barry,
A lifetime later, I remain, Mary Vetell
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I probably learned 99% of everything I would ever need to know by the time I left Pine Tree. I learned about kindness, and I learned that most people I would meet in life would find my kindness to be the equivalent of weakness. I learned that boys did not want girls on their baseball teams, and what you wore would often dictate people's opinion of you. (As adults, slip in "what you drive" and it's a perfect fit.) ...I drive a 1988 Dodge Aries K car, and I carry a $27 purse purchased way back when K Mart was still our main department store. The truth is that the best lesson I learned in Pine Tree was that I was an exceptional and uncommon young woman. That I was self-deprecatory to a fault and way too sensitive. That my sense of humor was very intellectual, and that I talked too much around new people (a nervous habit).
No, I'm wrong... There was a better lesson than all those things. I learned that on the written page, I could create magic. Carol Barry told me that when I was eleven-years old. It became the core of my ability to find peace. I never forgot Carol Barry. She asked me to write and help edit the Pine Tree Pitch from the very first issue they ever put out. Between her warmth and John Warbrick's stern encouragement, I managed to leave Pine Tree with the only thing I would need to survive some pretty tough times ahead: A full pen.
There have been times, years later, that I would stand on the subway platform in Manhattan, paralyzed as trains would race by in every direction. I would be writing, leaned against a support beam, on the back of some garbage scrap paper I found on a random bench. I have been published, and I have been rejected. But I have never been alone. My pen is my peace and my salvation. It is, as Carol Barry promised me, a silent friend through all things.
It is a lifetime later, and my own little girl walks those same halls. She eats in the same cafeteria and borrows books from the same library. It is, in many ways, bizarre to me. Have thirty-five years really gone by so quickly? I see her at certain angles or hear her be much too sensitive to life, and I can see myself through the mirror of time. She is gifted not to talk too much though -- thank Heaven. She is also gifted to have that magical teacher who finds each kid a treasure and obviously loves her vocation.
Teachers like John and Carol somehow unearth the brilliance in every student that goes through their classrooms. They build futures and unearth once-in-a-lifetime gems. If you don't live in Monroe and your kids don't go to Pine Tree, well quite simply, you should move.
In gratitude and peace, and in memory of my good friend, Carol Barry,
A lifetime later, I remain, Mary Vetell
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Sunday, April 6, 2008
The Copper Bottom - Florida, New York
Copper Bottom
My husband and I were charmed from the moment we stood outside the paned windows and peeked into The Copper Bottom, in
Once seated, a gracious and outgoing server guided us through the many choices. (Later we finished the meal with a slice of carrot cake that our server, Debbie, actually makes herself – be sure to save room!) We started with an appetizer of blackened scallops on a bed of cold sesame noodles. The sweet, savory noodles perfectly contradicted the blackened crust of the soft scallops. My main course of lobster ravioli arrived steaming hot in an alfredo-style cream sauce, topped with three perfectly cooked shrimp. My husband had usual man-fare, but he said his steak was perfect, drizzled with just a hint of herb sauce.
Small things turned this simple dinner out into a great experience – the subtle attention of our server, beautiful water glasses, the brief visit from the owner, Mark – and of course a tremendous chef. The Copper Bottom was warm and inviting, the food is incredible, and you have the feeling that the next time you walked through the door, they would remember you by name.
This is definitely a place to visit more than once.
Visit their website at http://www.thecopperbottom.com/html/index.htm
By, Mary Vetell
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The Monroe Diner - Monroe, New York
The Monroe Diner is like an old friend. It is the place we went as teenagers in high school to drink coffee all night and debate worldly chaos and teenage angst. And it is the place, a lifetime later, that we go to have more coffee, laugh about the world, debate worldly chaos, and eat waffles with our daughter.
Steve and Alex, the owners are as much family now as they were then, opening the doors to their restaurant as if you were a guest in their home. We were pleasantly surprised Christmas Eve, to find a big old St. Nick seated in an overstuffed easy chair, sitting quietly next to the dessert display. John, the manager, snapped a polaroid photo of our daughter laughing with the "big guy" while she explained the difference between and EZ Bake Oven and a Real Meal Oven.
How nice to find a place in
Personally, we've been to the Monroe Diner for thousands of burgers, at least a million cups of coffee, countless laughs, and one or two funerals. I’ve started a business there, ended a business there, and now started one again, and despite the myriad of other choices in our community now, it is still my favorite place to sit with my favorite people and shoot the breeze on any night of the week.
The Monroe Diner simply says, “Welcome Home.”
(To see other people’s reviews, visit http://www.yelp.com/biz/monroe-diner-monroe.)
By, Mary Vetell
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Joe's Fix It
The walls and ceiling at Joe's Fix It are home to a young person's version of planes, trains and automobiles -- in this case, it's bikes, trikes, boards, skates, sticks, pucks, etc., etc. To the average mom who hasn't laced up since she was seventeen, it can be a little overwhelming. It is a relief when the young man behind the counter stops what he's doing to offer guidance.
It was a whim to stop at Joe's the first time I bought skates for my daughter four years ago; now, it is a beloved tradition. Perhaps WalMart or Target might have had a cheaper pair of ice skates, but they simply can't offer the priceless personal service that Joe and his team give so freely. And this store, unlike all those others, offers it's customers a few dollars on new skates if you turn in your used one's from the year before. (A policy I have grown to appreciate as I outfit my daughter's endlessly growing stinky feet year after year.)
They also provide great bike sales and service and carry fitness equipment as well! (Imagine someone explaining your bowflex before you end up trapped underneath it yelling for help.)
I always feel good when I leave Joe's. I know that a little bit of my "hard earned" has gone to support a local business and a team of local people -- who in turn will spend their hard earned in the Monroe area as well. Buying anything at Joe's Fix It also has the added value of being served by a knowledgeable and gracious service team. For me, it's always a million-dollar experience with a great new pair of skates at the end.
Life in Monroe -- A whole lot nicer with a guy like Joe to put wheels on our heels and make every customer feel like an old friend.
Warmly, Mary Vetell
It was a whim to stop at Joe's the first time I bought skates for my daughter four years ago; now, it is a beloved tradition. Perhaps WalMart or Target might have had a cheaper pair of ice skates, but they simply can't offer the priceless personal service that Joe and his team give so freely. And this store, unlike all those others, offers it's customers a few dollars on new skates if you turn in your used one's from the year before. (A policy I have grown to appreciate as I outfit my daughter's endlessly growing stinky feet year after year.)
They also provide great bike sales and service and carry fitness equipment as well! (Imagine someone explaining your bowflex before you end up trapped underneath it yelling for help.)
I always feel good when I leave Joe's. I know that a little bit of my "hard earned" has gone to support a local business and a team of local people -- who in turn will spend their hard earned in the Monroe area as well. Buying anything at Joe's Fix It also has the added value of being served by a knowledgeable and gracious service team. For me, it's always a million-dollar experience with a great new pair of skates at the end.
Life in Monroe -- A whole lot nicer with a guy like Joe to put wheels on our heels and make every customer feel like an old friend.
Warmly, Mary Vetell
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