the morning comes...

 5 A.M. Sleep seems to be over. That is what it is like on this medication: either  I am very tired, or find it impossible to sleep. But I suvived it. What to look forward to this week: another infusion on Thursday,You know by now what that means: this coming weekend I should just be "in recovery" that is, very tired, as the steroids and other medication that "front" the real chemo move out of my body. No plans possible for that weekend. Well, maybe a movie, if my body will let me. Then, hopefully "the libearation" in the days after that, however, the torpor from the medication does return from time to time, somewhat unexpectedly, as it did this weekend. 

Strange weekend---accmplished a lot, but some moments very difficult. Friday 3 students---I really gave them my best---especially the first, a fifth grader needing a lot of input. Pleased, but very little energy on Saturday. Yesterday, I was determined to see Blue Moon, the movie about Lorenz Hart and his self destructive binge on the night that Oklahoma opened. Saw the morning show at AMC. Enjoyed the movie---full of trivia that I was very familiar with. Mr. H was brilliant, and got some great support from Bobby Canavale. Some parts move a little slowly, but glad I saw it---Hart both meaningful, pathetic and repugnant at the same time. But he is alone. Is there something there that I could identify with? Possibly, since I seem to have been "forgotten" by many of my former friends. Yes, on some level, "I am he", but of course on other levels definitely not. I don't need to hurt myself when I feel lonely---I have learned how to take charge of those feelings.  Also, I am a lot older then he was then, and still pretty strong physically. Sometimes I forget the positives that I do---the excellent lessons that I am giving or writing a critique of a supplement for a Bronx Science senior, that I have been asked to do. I wrote it in about 20 minutes--yet made my points very clear--got a response immediately from the student thanking me and accepting my insight. Should not I feel "great" about that. Well, lots of throughts.

work begins today--not sure how many students--some firming up to do. How much "free time" to move in "other worlds", I am not sure of. Sometimes I feel "trapped" in my tutoring schedule---but it keeps me going.  Still "grappling" with some personal issues. Maybe discuss that some other time.

The "Circus" continues...

 By that I mean the two worlds that inhabit the city. The world of "arts", that is entertainment, an inordinate amount of movies to see; theater---off Broadway and off off, exploding in front of me---everybody busy---but what of the world that the administration is bent on destroying.  Hard to separate myself from that---but also "easy" when I feel like it. I would like to see some "act of rejection" from an artist---a withdrawal in solidarity with those threatened by the government---but that does not seem to have occurred to anyone. So the "seesaw" continues.

Interesting day today---went to Metrograph to see a movie, Happyend, that was made by Neo, a member of the Friends Seminary class of 09. One of my favorite classes---I have always tried to keep up with the growth of all of them. Felt vulnerable, but did feel the movie was very strong. Should try to contact some of Neo's classmates to tell them how impressed I was by the film. It was shown at Metrograph, on Ludlow near Canal---the staff was great---very friendly and helpful. The lobby has a great quality--a darkness that seems to say: "here film is amazing!" Something about being there while I was waiting for the film to begin made me feel excited. Want to go back soon---but other life issues may prevent that. Afterwards, wandered around the neighborhood a bit as I walked to the F train on Essex and Delancey. God! what a change---luxury buildings all over---up scale stores--a new luxury apartment house facing a "project"---well that is NY now.

Not much else---back to work tomorrow---body still dealing with chemo effects---but it did not stop me from visiting the lower east side to see the movie. Lots of "art" to focus on, as I conveniently"forget" the horrors of the present.

Who am I?

 Friday morning. Early-around 4. Cold in the apartment. As usual, heat is late or non existant. Heaters going full blast. Why did I never live in Brooklyn Heights? That is the question that I asked myself a few minutes ago, after visiting Brownstoner, a web site with Brooklyn real estate listings? Woudn't  have made sense for,, at some point in my "adult development" to have either found a cheap apartment there, or even bought a house. Isn't that the "story" of my generation? Yet here I sit, in a cold studio on the upper west side---I how  did this destiny elude me.    

Begiinning second week of the "treatment", Yesterday, only one student---thought that I might be able to "do something interesting" in the evening. It almost happened. As I left the library on 145 and Amsterdam, I would not allow myself to go  west to the 1 train---to make me back to the apartment. Instead, walked the 2 blocks to the A and D train---jumped on the D and took it to 42nd street---my "destination" was the NIarchos library that covers the east side of 5th between 40th street and 39 street. But I was hungry when I got off, actually ravenously so. Pret a Manger was nearby---grabbed a half chicken salad sandwich---why half? Because a "full" sandwich would have cost me over $10.00. Not happening. Enraged that it would cost so much. Instead, settled for the half and left with my stomach still asking for more. The 'more" was a chocolate chip donut---very rich---but all it did was unbalance my stomach. Strange dissonance in the body. Was this the body that, pre pandemic, easily went from Manhattan to Bushwick, then back to downtown Brooklyn and then home? I guess not.

Visited the library. Got the novel I was looking for---"Sergeant Salinger" by Jerome Charyn. I just read another novel by him, called Ravage and Son---a kaleidoscopic novel of the poor Jews and rich Jews of the lower east side at the turn of the 20th century. This  one of course is Charyn's take on JD Salinger in the military service of World War II. Charyn is about 88- probably Salinger would be the same age if he was alive--maybe a little older. Also got a book about Joe Dimaggio. I need to read something to relax me and that will be it.

Long weekend ahead---coming to terms with the fact that my energy will not be what I would like it to be. The city is full of choices for the artistic minded---all running parallel to the horrors of the current administration. So where are we in this? Not sure. Constant dialogueing with my body.