A couple of days ago, as I was lounging besides the lake in the backyard here and wondering how I can make a video of one of my songs from my lovely compact disc album called "Sandplay" to satisfy the curiosity and demands of some wonderful people who wanted to hear Hrammetsek in the Dikranagerd parpar, it occurred to me that since it is the song that matters, what the heck, I can shoot a video with my digital camera and then add my music to it. And so I did. It is on Facebook's Dikranagerdtsi Armenians' group page.
Believe it or not, the majority of my friends are not on Facebook, we communicate differently. Some read my blog but the majority doesn't. With some, it is only e-mails while others use the telephone, not to mention Skype, IMs, etc. So I have to click here and there, from one to the other in order to respond or originate a conversation or to just keep in touch and say "hello."
Short of a close friend within a 300 mile radius from Glendale not California but Arizona, I decided to use the video to show that I am doing ok without a friend in sight and to invite you for a visit. But don't come yet. This, is the PR Department.
"Sandplay" Buy It Here
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
End of School Year
What have I learned so far?
That even if the teachers did not have time to iron your costume but did have time to iron the costume of your partner for the song-and-dance you are about to do for the year end ceremonies of your kindergarden graduation, you have to make your entrance onto the stage, sing your part while trying to hold back hysterical laughter about the situation and exit dancing, sort of. It was more like a rock'n'roll movement consisting of walking sideways without taking the feet off the ground, while singing "hey people, make way for Miss Arpie Dadoyan" back and forth with my classmate and cousin who had the same last name but said her own first name.
We got our diplomas from Mr. Simon Vratzian, the fourth and last prime minister of the short lived independent Republic of Armenia (1918-1921). Before I knew this, I had concluded that since he spoke Eastern Armenian, spoken by the people of Soviet Armenia, he is a communist, and I had a hard time balancing the very nationalistic teachings of my school with this fact.
Just like when I used to think that the oldest priest in our church was Jesus...
After the ceremony was over, dad approached me smiling, congratulated me and told me that I had just had another sister, that mom was in the hospital and that she was fine and will be home soon." So mom was not there and what is this about a new sister? I was intrigued. Then it was the turn of my dad's uncle to be presented to me as just having arrived that day by boat from America and he congratulated me too. Aunts and uncles, cousins and acquaintances, everybody was happy. It remains one of the happiest moments in my life.
That even if the teachers did not have time to iron your costume but did have time to iron the costume of your partner for the song-and-dance you are about to do for the year end ceremonies of your kindergarden graduation, you have to make your entrance onto the stage, sing your part while trying to hold back hysterical laughter about the situation and exit dancing, sort of. It was more like a rock'n'roll movement consisting of walking sideways without taking the feet off the ground, while singing "hey people, make way for Miss Arpie Dadoyan" back and forth with my classmate and cousin who had the same last name but said her own first name.
We got our diplomas from Mr. Simon Vratzian, the fourth and last prime minister of the short lived independent Republic of Armenia (1918-1921). Before I knew this, I had concluded that since he spoke Eastern Armenian, spoken by the people of Soviet Armenia, he is a communist, and I had a hard time balancing the very nationalistic teachings of my school with this fact.
Just like when I used to think that the oldest priest in our church was Jesus...
After the ceremony was over, dad approached me smiling, congratulated me and told me that I had just had another sister, that mom was in the hospital and that she was fine and will be home soon." So mom was not there and what is this about a new sister? I was intrigued. Then it was the turn of my dad's uncle to be presented to me as just having arrived that day by boat from America and he congratulated me too. Aunts and uncles, cousins and acquaintances, everybody was happy. It remains one of the happiest moments in my life.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
It Could be a Cactus Too
They are singing from joy and moving their arms in unison.
I don't know what this is. Somewhere it is autumn.
The Lantanas of the Neighborhood
The first time I walked in the neighborhood I was in such awe of the many plants and flowers growing in people's front lawns that I decided to do it again with a camera. This wanting to share and knowing exactly which of my friends will like them while others will "amaa dzaghigi ngarner trer e" saying will laugh their ass off, does not permit me to feel alone. Thanks for the memories.
I had previously posted pictures of the Lantanas I found in New Milford, took home and nursed for a few months and lamented their absence the following year. Do not despair my friend. Here, I saw them for real in different colors. White, purple, red, orange and multicolored ones.
No, my life has not become all about flowers but they seem to be everywhere. Specially the cashier clerks. Besides the family I have set up shop with, they, the cashier clerks, the people behind the counters where I buy coffee, food, toileteries, cigarettes or incense, are also like flowers. They are very kind, smiling and willing to serve, something triggered by my change of attitude resulting from lessening my indiscrimate services to others. I think.
Lo and behold, my housemate found a job in a flower shop. Last Saturday night, I drove there and helped her voluntarily so that she can finish her work before midnight and we can go have fun with our mutual friend. And we did. I put close to 150 red stem roses each into its own cellophane rap, each unique in size, shape, amount of leaves on the stem and beauty.
No, there is no other way. Life is a flower.
Friday, May 14, 2010
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