Day 3595: Choices

Every day, there are choices to make.

Too many choices can be overwhelming; too few choices might feel like we’re trapped.

Yesterday, I made the choice to not connect my mental health to the choices that people might make in the USA mid-term elections. I will submit my choices when voting on Tuesday and I can only hope that others have chosen wisely.

Here are some choice quotes about choices:

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Do you see choices in my other images for today?

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This quote about choices by Stephen Sondheim …

… is from Sunday in the Park with George’s “Move On” and I choose to share this beautiful rendition.

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My choices for ending a blog post are many, but I always choose gratitude. Thanks to all who made the choice to connect with me here today, including YOU.

Day 3284: Roads not taken

All of us have roads not taken. Some of us have regrets; some of us have reached a level of acceptance about the choices we’ve made.

Last night, I took the road of asking this question on Twitter:

My roads not taken include (1) finishing my thesis on the modern movie musical to get my Masters degree in Film Studies, (2) traveling more, (3) getting a dog, and (4) show biz. The first one I’m good with; the others still seem like possibilities to me.

Do you see roads not taken in my other images for today?

The roads I’ve taken include this: I’m revealing my Film Studies road-not-taken on National Short Film Day! Also, the rocky road to chocolate candy might not be taken by me today, even though there’s plenty of it around.

Here’s Robert Frost reciting his poem “The Road Not Taken.”

I’m going down the familiar road of including a Stephen Sondheim song in my blog posts.

The road not taken for me, up to this moment, includes sharing my attempt to do justice to a Stephen Sondheim song with my voice and my new ukulele.

Another road not taken for me includes doing a version of that I’m happy with, which might be further up the road.

As we move on to the end of this blog post road, I’ll take the opportunity to thank all who ease my way along the road of life, including YOU.

Day 2629: How bad could it be?

How bad could it be?

How can we even answer that question when

• there are so many things we don’t know and
• experts are saying it’s going to get worse before it gets better?

How bad could it be that I’m self quarantining, knowing I’m doing the best for myself and for all those I care about?

How bad could it be for me to share these photos with my good readers?

How bad could it be if

• Michael cooks delicious pasta and
•  Oscar and Harley look up and share our happiness?

How bad could it be if Stephen Sondheim is turning 90 years old this month? Here he is playing “Move On” at the memorial service for Michael Bennett, who died during the AIDS pandemic:

 

How bad could it be where you are, here and now?

How good could it be to express gratitude to all those I appreciate, including YOU?

Day 1350: Remembering

On September 11, 2016, I am remembering so much, including:

1.  9/11/01, when I was in a park  on a  Tuesday with my three-year-old son Aaron, not knowing how I was going to explain to him  what had just happened to our country.
2. Witnessing my now eighteen-year-old son Aaron going through intense security systems at  Boston’s Logan Airport, yesterday, as he left our country for his college experience in Edinburgh, Scotland.
3. Spending yesterday evening with my beautiful friend Barbara in beautiful Boston, where we attended  a performance of  Stephen Sondheim‘s Sunday in the Park with George.

Here are some images I’m remembering from yesterday:

 

I’m remembering that the song I find most moving from Sunday in the Park with George is “Move On.”

As I am moved by “Move On,” I am also remembering these two things:

1. I saw the very memorable Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin in the original production of Sunday in the Park with George.
2. Yesterday, at a toll both outside of Logan Airport, I told the toll collector I had just sent my son off on a plane to college. She replied, with feeling,  “He is missing you as much as you are missing him,” which I love remembering.

What are you remembering, here and now?

I am remembering to thank all who helped me create this post and you — of course! — for remembering to visit this blog, today.