An Old Friend

Today on the train, admits the drudgery of packing into the crowd and trying not to fall asleep from exhaustion, I flipped through a poetry book I had on me... not really reading, just mindlessly turning pages.  I came across this poem by Emily Dickinson. I had forgotten how much I love it.

I measure every grief I meet

With analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine,

or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,

Or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine,

it feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,

and if they have to try,

and whether, could they choose between,

they would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have pilled-

Some thousands - on the cause

of early hurt, if such a lapse

Could give them any pause

Or would they go on aching still

Through centuries above,

Enlightened to a larger pain 

By contrast with the love.

The grieved are many I am told;

The reason deeper lies, -

Death is but on and comes but once,

and only nails the eyes.

There's grief of want, and grief of cold, -

A sort they call "despair";

There's banishment from native eyes,

In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind

correctly, yet to me

A piercing comfort it affords

In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross,

Of those that stand alone,

Still fascinated to presume

that some are like my own

Things I love

It may seem silly and I may be exposing myself as the girly girl I truly am.... but I can't help it.  I LOVE flowers.  Over the last month I have been buying myself a bouquet every Saturday.  But I have to say the prize goes to the one I just got.  Lilacs and Freesia!  So beautiful and the apartment smells wonderful.

Sound bites;)

The last few days of work have been wrapped up in recording sounds for the website (if the product is a wind chime or toy with noise etc.)  It has been an extremely frustrating process.  I mean I know patience is not one of my stronger virtues, but this experience has felt like something that could best be described by Dante.  Fitting probably in the seventh circle's middle ring.  Anyway in my frustration I came to discover what an amazing tool one's G-chat status could be.  

I changed my status to "I need someone who knows how to use pro-tools"  and within minutes friends were sending me messages saying that they knew how and I could call if I needed help or that they have a friend I could call.  I received so many offers to help.  It made me happy that I have so many cool friends that are only a g-chat status away:)

But I have to say by far my favorite message came from my sister.. who wins the award of the day for catching me so off guard and making me laugh.  this is the message she sent me:

"... everyone has their own criteria.  He must be able to sing, be tall, have a good job, etc.  But I like that you are specific on your interest in men: "must be able to record sound using pro tools"  I like that about you."

Well Cat, I think that earlier today that would have even been more important to me than someone who remembers my name..lol  Thanks for the laugh and thankyou to all for helping me out and your quick g-chatting responses!

125th Street Stop....Ugh

So for whatever reason the 125th street stop for the A train is destined to be the stop that crazy things happen it seems.  A couple of weeks ago there was this.. I guess preacher... yelling into the train "God Loves You"  over and over again.  I was waiting on the platform and he seemed to feel it a necessity to be sure I personally understood this.  

"Do you know God loves you? God loves you? God loves you?"  He said to me over and over again.  I kinda chuckled and told him I was in fact aware of that.  He continued to ask me this question. 

A young man in pinstripe suit and wingtips walked up to him and stood between us.  "Mister," he said.  "That is not nice to be in her face.  She could get offended.  "I mean what if she was someone who didn't believe in God like a Muslim or Catholic."  

It took every bit of self control I had left in me not to bust up laughing.....   Well I hadn't thought about this for a while, until today as I waited on the platform my old friend showed up.  This time however he was not telling me that God loved me.  Today he wanted me to acknowledge that I was a sinner.  He said "you swear, you drink, you are an adulator. Do you know you are a sinner" I wanted to say "well actually...... " but decided against arguing my morals with the crazy on the platform.  And I have to say I think I liked his first message better.

And am starting to think I should transfer from the D to the A train at West 4th instead:) 

Nicknames and Gabitron

So the last few days the topics of nicknames has seemed to come up a bunch.  Which has lead me to thinking about the many I have received over the years.  I have to say the high school years were not kind on my name:)  But that aside, there have been many that I now use and respond to quite regularly.  

Gab or Gabs being the most common.  Although I should warn you if you are not a good friend of mine and you call me Gab or really even Gabs it kind of irritates me. (and if you have to ask yourself "am I a good enough friend to call her that" then you are not:) And for those who are not, I would like to point out that really the name Gaby is a nickname altogether... short for Gabrielle. So don't feel excluded, we are still friends.

I think my Favorite nickname of all time I owe to my dear friend Capree..... who coined the name early on in our time in the BYU photo program "Gabitron"  It was just one of those things that has stuck and really become so much a part of me now that it doesn't really even feel like a nickname at all.  It is scribbled on my notes books as "this book belongs to..." it is on all kinds of boxes of film and paper.. and has earned the honor or being laser scribed onto the back of my ipod.

But there are other acceptable nicknames too. Gabers (only my sister Catherine, However, can call me Gabers McDabbers, and not end up punched in the arm... so don't try it!) GiGi (preferably said with some little french accent) and Red. 

As far as unacceptable nicknames go.. only the mildly bad one will be shared. One for example, I thought had died after I left college and was no longer around a certain friend of mine by the name of fletcher :)  Graby, is and will never be something funny or cute to call me.  Like I said I thought that this one had gone the way of the wind, but somehow it has lived again with the help of my friend Ty. Who I must also add is responsible for a great deal of the nicknames that won't be mentioned here;)  But who so kindly reminded me last night of the halloween nickname gaba gaba doo!  Not really a recommended name either.

Oh and while we are on the topic of my name. Jokes about me talking a lot 'cuz you know my name is gaby, were not even original when I was 9 so don't try:)

Batteries Not Included

Yesterday I was waiting for my connection on the A train at 42nd street.  And looking down on the track I expected to see the usual garbage and perhaps a creepy rodent... but instead I saw a bunch of AA batteries.  In the ten foot section in front of me I counted 42.  Where do they come from?  and why do they stay there?  And why AA?  Why not a 9v or two?

Peek A Boo... I'm still here

So I am sure many of you have stopped even checking my blog and are convinced I have fallen off the face of the planet. It is not so much the planet as much as it is Brooklyn.

After surviving the press run that went on for years I made it back to the city just in time to celebrate New Years with some of my dearest friends.






And then the move that I have been anxiously awaiting happened. My work relocated to the Brooklyn Army Terminal (from here on out to be refered to as BAT).

I don't know how many of you have ever tried moving a studio... but what a pain. I spent nights dreading and fearing the loss of equipment, or the damage of the digital back! Pretty much everything made it here fine though. There was an issue with a mirror that made it all the way and then I dropped it as I unpacked it... but really what is 7 years more bad luck (this is the third mirror I have broken in a years time alone:) Here is my new space.. don't mind some of the clutter, I am still unpacking.

and then of course you don't want to miss out on the view....


all and all I am glad the move is over and ready to get back to work.