Annie Q Syed

Mama. Mothers. And Other Days.

annie — Sun, 13 May 2012 15:35:42 +0000

May 13, 2012.

Still Sundays

I’ve always liked the time before dawn

because there’s no one around to remind me who I’m supposed to be,

so it’s easier to remember who I am.

My friend am(Erica) sent me the aforementioned quote earlier this week. She knows that once it is finally summer I prefer to start the day quite early on Sundays. However, I believe and know, with enough practice we can carry Dawn with us throughout the day and anywhere.

I am grateful for the sun after what seems like weeks of cold rain and windy clouds in New York City. We skipped right ...

Lotus Sunday

annie — Sun, 06 May 2012 18:08:12 +0000

Still Sundays

May 6, 2012.

The moon rode into Earthtown last night. I could hear its supersteps around midnight.

How wide are your shoulders, Time?

New York City is a funny bone of time zones. Usually when we are awake here the West Coast is still asleep and over the Atlantic people are ending the day. How many more ways can I be in between worlds?

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I finally finished a fiction short story yesterday. It is 700 words over the submission guidelines but other than that it is finished. I could make it into two different stories I suppose: keep one for myself and the other one for submission. Or I could diligently sandpaper it down to ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 13:31:55 +0000

April 29th, 2012.

It is so very quiet this Sunday morning. Partly because no one knows how to react to the fact that it is still winter in New York City and we are one day away from May. Compared to Friday the weather is supposed to be a little more “spring-like” this Sunday. Maybe spring has always been a myth. An ideal that doesn’t exist. Or when it does we only see a day or two of it. A tiny reflection of what is possible on this earth—some divine weather—if we don’t mess with nature.

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My work-in-progress manuscript has been stalled for a little over a year now. Of course in that time I wrote other ...

A Still Sunday with Love

annie — Sun, 22 Apr 2012 16:47:54 +0000

April 22, 2012.

Mirror Mirror on Stillness’s wall which Sunday is the truest of them all?

Last Sunday I was swimming in the lakes of nostalgia for certain places and this Sunday the present is all I could ever hope for.

Nostalgia, I hope you like the caricature we have created of you, a doodle of escapism framed in fad.

When I am nostalgic about certain places and times, it is without longing to “go back” unless I am desirous of being imaginative and want to go “back in time” to a period in which I was never born or participated. My nostalgia is more an impromptu tribute to all things for which there are no photos or words.

...

light bulb

annie — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 02:47:50 +0000

A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period.

~ Emily Dickinson

Catching Light (at a wedding) and one photo of a Flag

Light Steps

Third Avenue, BX

Reflection of Cheers

annie — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 02:24:58 +0000

Novalis wrote, “Our bodies are molded rivers.”

A Quote by the famous and talented photographer Yousuf Karsh

“Friendship is a fashion accessory.”

A Human Sunday

annie — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 18:56:50 +0000

Still Sundays.

April 15, 2012.

It wasn’t until this weekend, last night, when I felt there really is something distinctive about this time of the year, particularly April 15th.

In 1865 on this day Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

The Titanic sank.

In 1927 a great American asset, the Mississippi river, became a tremendous liability when the sky fell down in the form of non-stop rain causing the river to burst and cause one of the greatest floods in American history.

In 1986 on this day American warplanes bombed Tripoli in retaliation of Libyan terrorism.

2012 seems packed with events but time is passing in slow motion. It is only April 15th and so much has happened all across ...

We could think what we wanted…

annie — Wed, 04 Apr 2012 17:34:44 +0000

I came home to grab lunch since my parents are here (well, right now on their way out to JFK for their trip to Turkey…they arrived late last night from California…unfortunately, not a long stay, but it will be a little longer on their way back from Turkey).

I told them this small story and said I didn’t have time to tweet share with folks. It’s been a whirlwind few days…all filled with magic and joy…but still a bit too fast…

They asked I write it down somewhere. And since this is the most organized space I know as compared to what is on and underneath my desk and shelves, here it goes…

This morning in the number 2 subway ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 01 Apr 2012 16:02:24 +0000

April 1, 2012.

April fool’s day. Yes, let’s have a worldwide recognition day to reflect that we are all such fools. We know so little and therefore we have so many experts of Knowing!

I want the weather gods to say, “Just Joking!” I want to hear It is all just a hoax that it is December temperatures in April. There is no global warming heading to an ice age. “Please laugh already!” I want to hear from the cold front that lasts longer and longer each month every passing year. I don’t want historians to describe in words “what was once known as Spring”; I want future generations to be able to experience it. Somewhere.

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Yesterday ...

Third Avenue, BX

annie — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 02:21:42 +0000

Some days I work part time in the South Bronx.

It is one of the most dilapidated parts of Bronx, a borough of New York City.

Most people don’t know that New York City is comprised of five boroughs and that Harlem is in Manhattan and quite expensive.

“The hub” is the retail heart of the South Bronx, located where four roads converge: East 149th Street, Willis, Melrose and Third Avenue. In the 1930s the Hub had movie palaces and vaudeville theaters and a few decades after it became a national symbol of urban decay.

I have witnessed some extreme poverty in my life given my travels and work in legal and education ...

Stillness is a peyote that shows what is real.

annie — Sun, 25 Mar 2012 17:57:32 +0000

March 25th, 2012

STILL SUNDAYS

New York City can’t make up its mind whether to continue enduring pain and stay in winter or finally move forward into spring and summer.

Stillness is a peyote that shows what is real.

You can’t jump into stillness, you work your way into it and realize it is a fusion of all sorts of coming together.

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It was in Paris when James Baldwin was first able to come to grips with his explosive relationship with himself and America. Of course that is not why I went there in 2001—I have never followed in the footsteps of anyone—-this is not a boast, just a fact, just how things have turned out ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 21:07:00 +0000

Today doesn’t need a date, 2012.

Trying to understand how I see New York City and how an artist sees what is and is not really there.

A weekend ago I was saddened by my inability to successfully articulate to another what is it that I “saw” in New York City. It is like a fairytale that is true only if you believe it. I questioned whether the lens through which I have viewed New York City is tainted with unearned affection. Something I have just made up!

I know many people who live here because they have always lived here. There are also people who have no desire to visit other towns and cities. And frankly ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 11 Mar 2012 15:26:25 +0000

March 11th.

I thought we decided, I tell myself—all of my selves: the one who likes lazy days of lounging in the hammock made of time, the self who stares at a wall too long after a dream doesn’t quite add up, the self who questions every single day: do we choose to become this thing, this “person”, who writes?—-that today we were going to just enjoy a very still Sunday without words. A drive to Philly was in order to see my best friend, am(Erica). But she will understand, I told myself, like all friends who have been a close part of my life the last two decades, if I changed my mind last minute to write.

There ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 04 Mar 2012 16:53:03 +0000

March 4, 2012

I had a dream the sky was such a fantastic blue that they were holding a contest to come up with a new name for this shade of blue.

My team was made of the people with whom I am closest and we were trying to run our ideas by one another via email, phone calls, and text messages. At some point we got so absorbed in the process that we neither cared about this new color nor making the deadline of the contest.

My sister, in coming up with a name for this new shade of blue, had designed the most unique blue cards. My friend, (am)Erica, had decided to create a man with a blue ...

Bird Love

annie — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 22:04:21 +0000

a few weeks ago near my work…i came across so many birds all at once…if i didn’t know any better, i would have believed i was indeed some tree…

“Bird” by Pablo Neruda

It was passed from one bird to another, the whole gift of the day. The day went from flute to flute, went dressed in vegetation, in flights which opened a tunnel through the wind would pass to where birds were breaking open the dense blue air - and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys, I stayed suspended and green between sun and geography - I saw how wings worked, how perfumes are transmitted ...

My father on Sharia law & art; Social Media, the snake oil of our times

annie — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 23:34:33 +0000

February 26, 2011

Still Sundays.

There is fair weather, great weather, and then weather I simply categorize as Wrath of the Universe.

New York City’s weather yesterday was some Wrath of the Universe.

The weather in New York City feels like a curse from the Universe right now. Did winter come late this year?

I know my mother is right and I am not supposed to take it personally. It is just winter. It doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me. It will pass like all the years before. But I do take it personally. In my vocabulary the word cold doesn’t suffice…only wrath of the universe makes sense. I know there are those who love winter ...

Still Sundays

annie — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 00:14:01 +0000

February 19, 2012.

I ate a lot of Internet this weekend. I justified it because I ate healthy and kosher. The meat of the articles was halal. Fresh sources, great nutritional articles, lots of juice for thought. And I usually don’t eat meat: I had not browsed through any of my feeds or online journals in over a week. As is often with most things that happen to me, I had tapped in to the momentum exactly at the right time.

The right place, the right time, the wrong me.

I gathered that social media is going through some mid-life crisis. I thought Internet was only a baby. Don’t you first have to grow up, live (or more accurately not ...

Love like…

annie — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 02:27:42 +0000

February 12th, 2012.

Love like my parents. Love like yoga.

I like when I re-read something that I wrote and I find it is still accurate and applicable at large. A favorite t-shirt that never gets old. This brings me immense joy and surprise. Somehow it makes me feel I caught the hand of Time and danced to a short tune barely audible. I don’t feel this way towards most of my fiction attempts. Not yet anyway. I am deaf and Time mute when it comes to fiction. Then I am humbled: authors who passed the test of Time were indeed some gods.

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My eyes don’t make natural tears as easily anymore. I have to put ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 23:58:42 +0000

February 5th, 2012.

The super bowl of social media and creativity.

I woke up thinking about Wednesday this morning. As if Wednesday was a person I knew.

This last Wednesday was a chaotic morning and no amount of breathing was going to lift me out of the mushroom of frenzy.

Usually calm and steady, on Wednesday morning I was agitated and hyper sensitive to noise. I always try to see what is the longest amount of time I can go without plugging into music with my headphones. This time even music didn’t help. People rushing to some grand nowhere. I joined them to head to one of the most dilapidated parts of New York City. Poverty has a smell ...

A Still Sunday Night

annie — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 03:54:21 +0000

January 29, 2011.

Stillness bypassed my Sunday morning like a breeze you don’t notice because you are out of breath. Except I was in deep sleep breathing. I woke up long after stillness had closed its canteen. Although I realize Stillness is everywhere and available anytime and it is up to us to reach into the hive and retrieve any amount of nectar, certain moments feel like a red carpet walk to the doorway of Stillness. Sunday mornings are such a walk. After noon the zone is narrow even if you are a devout Stillness practioner.

I gave myself permission to sleep in and allow the body to recover. Everything about the status quo seems contrary to how we ...

Still Sundays

annie — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 18:38:33 +0000

January 22nd 2012.

Biko. Coltrane. My father. Coleridge. Marquez.

Writing when you are under the weather is like talking in your sleep. Nothing makes sense; it all makes sense.

It is a Steve Biko kind of Sunday: “I write what I like.”

New York City is under the weather too. It snowed yesterday.

I read a post by a talented photographer in Finland, Annika Ruohonen, this morning titled “January in Finland.” So this is Finland in January I said aloud without realizing. Maybe my heavy head thought I was using “inside” voices when I was not. I tried leaving a short comment but due to computer glitches, password itches, the comment was lost as was the moment ...

Practice, Practice, Practice; Emerson on Experience & Surprise

annie — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 19:35:44 +0000

Still Sundays.

January 15, 2012.

Last time I wrote fiction was June 2011. It wasn’t even a story but a sketch of words. Prior to June, regularly putting down drafts of fiction, however incomplete, was March 2011. All in all, last time I wrote fiction every week, be it a paragraph for the novel or some story shared on this web space, was December 2010. It would be fair and accurate to state that I consistently tackled the craft of fiction from March 2010 to March 2011 regardless what was shared here—and it was a lot that was shared in this online space. In fact, every Tuesday, come rain or shine or travel. I wrote in planes. I wrote ...

even angels have shadows

annie — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 22:24:34 +0000

on my way to work this morning…

you see something every day

and you see it again as if for the first time.

usually happens when there is nothing new to see. or so you have yourself convincedthinking.

still don’t know how to post from my new iphone…but doesn’t matter…taking this Vault to my own website very very soon anyway…

~a.q.s.

No related posts.

yoga versus yoga: my obiter dicta

annie — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 01:10:26 +0000

“I came to yoga not on a journey of personal transformation, but because I put my back out and couldn’t sit comfortably in a chair,” begins Claire Dederer in an article, “My Truce With Yoga” in the October issue of Whole Living magazine.

I timely came across this article that sheds light on the 6 billion dollar yoga industry. I share some excerpts that highlight my concerns:

I thought yoga was for self-indulgent, middle-aged ladies with time on their hands, or for fanatical vegetarian former gymnasts.

As I researched studios around Seattle, I noticed that yoga came in a dizzying array of flavors and strengths, often at opposite ends of a spiritual spectrum. At some studios, akin to stylish gyms, ...

Still Sundays: Shakti and Ibn Sina

annie — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 19:57:49 +0000

It is a new year after all.

Makes me wonder about all those other “new” years. I never felt they were new per se so it wasn’t that I got duped the last decade with the habitual hype at the end of the year. It is just that I couldn’t participate as authentically as I would have liked because I knew better in my bones. But this year is finally new.

new | n(y)oō |

adjective

1. not existing before; made, introduced, or discovered recently or now for the first time

2. already existing but seen, experienced, or acquired recently or now for the first time

3. just beginning and regarded as better than what went before

The word new ...