A My Private Coney project Flash non-fiction, brief moments and old memories of a city and mother's emotional and physical real estate disappearing at the speed of heartbreak.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Sunday Memories Of Love's Labours Lost: Walking the Walk, Walking The Talk
Labor Day for us was just another day where instruments were picked up and scales were practiced. Being an artist, who could work every day, regardless of its significance, required unique union rules and special job descriptions.
Originally posted October 23, 2008
the only shoes she wore, the contract I found in her papers.
"Self Contract Feb 22 - Feb 29 Mid 1988
From this day forth I choose to do the following.
1. Every AM I will push the blue bedroom chair into the middle of the room and push it back at the the time I go to work
2. Every PM at bedtime - I will turn on ALL the lights of the house; then turn them all off.
3. I will look through one pile of music or drawer of music every day.
4. Every day I will read several pages of my high school diary.
5. Do A.C.T. in AM
This is an irrevocable agreement which I make with myself.
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.