Ode to Friendship

This post is about a wonderful friendship, as my good friend of several decades had a very special birthday to salute this past weekend.

Carol and I "clicked" for life thirty-five years ago on the kindergarten playground in Lake George, as foretold by the fact we were both wearing bright corduroys and got along in silence as well as blabbing. Little did we imagine that our activities of letter-writing and sticker-trading would evolve over the decades into museum visits and collaborations. So I wanted nothing more than to celebrate Carol and help ring in another year of joy and rain, "bosom buddies" for life.

There were many highlights of the big weekend, one being the three hours+ spent at a table for two at Aldea in the city talking about the past, quirks and everything, marveling over the pastel de natas and falling in love with Portugal through its cuisine.

The birthday girl, pictured with glowing flame and pastel de natas

"You should smell this bread!"

Carol's selection for Saturday afternoon activities began with a ballet class. There was a cute baby girl in a pink track suit sitting on the floor with her mom when we entered, another sign that this was a precious occasion.

James was the instructor that morning at Ballet & Body (on E 65th). He is in an upcoming off-Broadway production of Fiddler on the Roof and his bulging calves reveal millions of tendu in his lifetime. He was a great teacher, and unintentionally funny. We started laughing quietly when we had to trace each letter of the alphabet with our toes extended to the ceiling, his voice calling them out, Aaaaaa, Beeeeee, Ceeeee, enunciating them exaggeratedly. I couldn't stop cracking up as he continued through all the letters of the alphabet and as our pointed toes did all the movements A-Z. (Fortunately, we were lying on our backs and not standing for the whole alphabet.)

Though I had done ballet for 14 years growing up, it had been two decades since I had felt the rhythm of a tendu warmup exercise at the bar on each side with the beautiful sound of the piano (note: not live, which makes Carol sad). I loved hearing words like old friends: dégagé, coupé, fondu, arabesque, possé, glissade, and there was even soutenu and soussou. The muscle memory was there (and very sore later) and memories came back. What energy unfolds within from visiting such an integral part of my early life, I wondered. Carol and I smiled as she mouthed to me to put on my socks and as he said something about firing a pianist (she is a pianist). It was lovely and perfect, and we marked the special occasion by taking pics and increasingly becoming sore as we walked the city afterwards.

Note: the dress code for the weekend: bag lady chic with a soupçon of Punky Brewster. As always, Carol has incredibly fashionable ideas, tinged with humor from the era in which we grew up. 

Tendu with James

Relevé 

It was an awesome class.

From there, a trip to the Morgan library, which involved a fun lunch in the cafe in the glass atrium, the light shining on us, her pink rosé cocktail budding with a huge magenta orchid. Afterwards, my mind was blown by the amazing book collection. I mean amazing: if you are a bibliophile you'd really appreciate the library. The Frankenstein exhibit was interesting to look at and ponder for a moment. This was when museum fatigue set in, just as we needed to head to dinner. Here we are in front of Wall Drawing 552D (Sol Lewitt, color ink wash, December 1987) in the atrium.

 

I personally loved the details on the book bindings in the library, the hearts and little flowers in particular. From the vaulted rooms of Morgan's library came a walk through literary history, all beautifully bound. Everything was overwhelmingly impressive.

The shelves shown on right, above, are all different works written by Voltaire. One can really appreciate how prolific he was!

The moral of this post? 

Friendship helps get the soul out of this feeling:

So, deep gratitude and heart to this lady, Carol, for all the wonderful, inspiring things she has shared and given to me over the years. I can't wait for Paris with you!

To Carol, all love, flowers, and laughs

Not only do Carol and I look forward to fun together, but for me, she is one of the most caring friends. She is the one who was experiencing the emotions before my colectomy two years ago, and the one who waited with my mom the eight hours of the surgery until she could see me come out of it. She was the one who brought me Patsy's pizza when it was time to try solid foods a week later. She told my sister to not tell me the news flash they had just seen on their phones, Prince had just died. She was there to walk with me and the IV pole on the third day--"so slow that it was like [we were] walking backwards." She painted with me in the recreation center and read a magazine while I participated in a makeup for cancer patients session. She brought me a Hello Kitty balloon. She and my sister videoed the PT showing me how to change my ostomy bag, so that I could remember how to do it at home. She walked many laps with me around the bland fourteenth floor hall, some photos of New York City and some other patients to see: She walked with me to help me recuperate. There are many ways that she was integral to my recovery, and to my life.

Merci beaucoup CAM,
xo