my own help + support center: KLM

Sitting here this morning with some yummy french vanilla coffee + contemplating. I just got back from 30th street station where I dropped my cousin off for her 9:15 departure back to Boston. I had a great weekend with my family. My sister, cousin and almost sister-in-law came up late Friday night and we began our midnight by polishing off a few bottles of wine and catching up the way all girls do...lots of talking over each other in 4 different conversations! Oh, I love my family. It was nice to really have this time together to just relax, be silly and feel totally comfortable. The girlies got to see a little peek into my world through my house and my neighborhood...I feel really lucky to have such great female relationships right in my own family. My sister and I have always just "gotten" each other even through sentence fragments on two different topics. It is so nice to be able to extend that beyond our relationship and let it spill onto the cousins and such.

Sister relationships are really so hard to explain. We have brothers, too, but a sisterhood is something one may never understand unless one is also experiencing it and even then, all sister relationships are not equal. L & I can fight and bicker one minute + then not even care the next moment about the same exact thing. We just get each other. We know our buttons and we know when to push them. Better yet, we know when to back off. And, we are very sensitive and careful about testing each other because we just understand. She knows I hate to be tested. She knows how sensitive I am. She knows how much I care about the way people treat each other every single day. And, I respect that most about our relationship.

We can call each other 10 times a day for nothing + sit in silence while she is folding laundry at her store + I am scheduling meetings. And, just wait...

She is my "help + support" center. L knows K. And, ironically, L follows K in the alphabet. Guess we will always be stuck together!

And, on days like today when I am given time to reflect, sometimes I just sit and think about all the relationships we establish. I am so proud of my current relationship with my boyfriend. It is nice to have found another patient + caring soul.

I really appreciate good people with open hearts, big smiles and kind words.

The days are so much nicer that way...

Enjoy Monday.

woke up with this some time ago... key of g

traveler's wife: (after the time traveler's wife!)

dear mark
i gotta let you know
that i woke up this morning
and i gotta let you go

please realize
you mean the world to me
you just can't help me be
all that i desire to be

---
chorus
---

and so it goes
so it goes
that's the story of my life
as a time traveler's wife

somewhere out there
i think mighta been a thief
or maybe just a pretty old salesman
trying to sell some peace

but mark you gotta hear me
please hear me out
you see my feet they travel
the way the wise never do shout
shout it out

----
chorus
----

all i do know
is this reminded truth
that i promise to vibrate
for all living proof

----
chorus
----

the yoga sutras of patanjali: commentary on the raja yoga sutras by sri s. satchidananda

This is what I was told to read + plan to purchase.

Today was a day. I am quite exhausted and drained. Yesterday, I worked 8am to midnight for two major functions at The University.

Patience. Patience. patience.
If you can give it to me, I promise to give it back to you.
we can share.
I can't promise perfection.
But, I will promise modification.

That is the best way anyway.

Soft changes.

today i relied on these 20 things...

1. javier's 6am cries for cuddle time in the curve of my stomach
2. the amazing morning sunlight in my bath + dressing room
3. bed head: hard to get
4. hazlenut coffee + creamer
5. revlon true red lipstick
6. shakira's "hips don't lie" on repeat
7. gray aerosole ankle boots
8. my instinct
9. my chanel glasses
10. sam's pep talk
11. my house...
12. duran's warm hello + phone call
13. gchat with my sister + my cousin
14. yoga class to stop the thinking: "you have a choice"
15. baked breaded chicken
16. my new kenmore hepa filter vacuum cleaner
17. garnier nutrisse hot tamale hair color
18. this space tonight
19. my tacoma acoustic guitar...
20. yellowtail wine: good to the last drop - in the bottle!

you are not your thoughts.

Wow.

They did it again. The world collided with my internal waves + brought me to a new possible adventure...

The owner of the studio where I did yoga for the only the second time tonight asked if I would be interested in becoming one of his students... like take me under his wings and make me a superstar!

Okay, not really... but really.

I have taught yoga in a few different venues in Philadelphia + teaching has always been a passion of mine. And, after a few minutes of conversation a new oppportunity was born.

But, before I walked out, he said, do me a favor - please come to my center city location tomorrow at 3pm. I would like you to see what we are doing.

And so I am.

I won't skip a single beat when the universe keeps reaching + giving.

Tonight, he repeated... "You are not your thoughts." And, that, my fellow readers, is the one thing I have been struggling with for months. All of the inner mind chatter has been possessing me for too long. I am done with it. These things are originating outside of me from past experiences. I will say your thoughts are not real and I will say watch what you think because the things I was feeling + the energy I was wasting were simply a reaction to my outrageous thoughts. They may be yours, but they are not you.

I am not my thoughts.
Not anymore.

the art of unpacking your self storage

Discovering who you really are can be done by simply stepping outside of yourself and looking somewhere above from treetops down at the mix of amazing and somewhat chaotic attributes that make the unique being you encompass. And, from there, way up high, you have a choice in how you want to Create you. And, you have a choice of changing what you have already created...

Sounds so easy, this self awareness, huh?

I have been leaving my comfort zone which is the first big step towards discovery. I have been doing a lot of searching daily. And, I am beginning to accept getting lost in the process. It has been a bit of a roller coaster ride as I deal with understanding who I am and who I want to become. I won't lie, it can be quite scary and this one feels very different from my first Big Awakening at 25/26.

Lately, I am throwing myself into new classes + mixing it up with new people. I have been calling long lost friends (accidentally?). I am rekindling with old neighbors from the Dickinson side of town and making drink dates with the new ones on my backwards one way street. I started a ceramics class South Philly style with a newish friend. As posted previously, I am exploring a new yoga class with a new soul. And, now that I did ballet (which did amazing things for my legs!), I have signed up for singing... the class I am most nervous about. I find myself putting a lot of icky pressure on me alone since I will perform again...

Sitting quietly in contemplation, I have witnessed so many fantastic whirly things. And, I have decided I don't want to waste my energy on the people who drain me. And, to let myself be really okay with that one. It is time I approach this life a bit differently.

Time to be a better investigator and unpack each boxed assumption + expectation one at a time. As I de-clutter, I am opening all of those hidden gems of big possibility + hope. Stacking them all high like a balancing act, I am smiling at how sturdy and supportive they are of each other.

Sort of like we are...when we didn't even know it.

a little lavendar discovery

Sitting here so peaceful tonight smelling softly of lavendar oil that was held over my head with her hands as she generated heat and then placed the essense on my third eye and along my tense jaw. Then, my shoulders were gently pushed down and rolled back onto the floor...

A new yoga class folks!

I am absolutely at peace with myself and the place I reside within. Right now, I am sipping a warm cup of rose vanilla tea, gazing at a few candles, noticing the quiet hum of a computer that has not crashed and unwinding with my sleepy dog curled on the ottoman beside me.

And, I could sit here all night, silently. I love to contemplate and listen to what my body grumbles. And, all in a home that I own and created to reflect my love of design, creativity and warmth. I feel very blessed.

This was an amazing discovery today and another stone has been collected and placed inside my wooden basket.

A friend told me this new yoga center opened in a big warehouse in South Philly. So off we went! The space is filled with apparently art studios + such? (I fell in love with a large painting of a woman in the stairwell). The location is a little shady, but I am not concerned. Parking is easy and available. And, they lock the doors at the start of class and unlock them to release you.

This class is exactly what I needed today. Holly studied in Indonesia and has brought an intense, comfortable and light-hearted class to share with us all. She wore similar earrings to those I create and it simply reminded me... She challeneged me tonight and pushed me further. She had me in a semi-headstand! It has been too long since I did that. After more conversation about how I also used lavendar when I taught yoga, she mentioned I should let her know if that is something I decided to do again...

The funniest thing occurred as she led us to the door with her keys in hand. I was telling her about my ballet course that I take at work where I am a teacher (?) Wait, a teacher, I'm sorry, Holly, I am not a teacher...

Maybe that is what you are really supposed to be doing...

Thank You, Holly, for making this transition in my life a little bit easier today. And, for literally, opening my heart chakra to pull out the hidden Peace.

Namaste.

synchrodestiny: an awareness of a developing pattern in the events of your life

How is it that you keep walking into the same person over and over again when he/she wasn’t a part of your life months ago? Or have you ever had a person you particularly don't feel like dealing with appear in front of you for three days in a row to make you address whatever uncomfortable feelings you have going on inside...?

So what do we have here? Synchronicity that defies an explanation or purely the interconnectedness of all things universal?

I say it would be wise to stop and talk to that person continually crossing your path…

Lately, I have been pausing and scratching my head. It has been happening to me a lot lately. I do know it is for a very specific reason and I find myself slowing down to really reflect. I understand none of this is new to any of us, but this is my little reminder to all that sometimes you must open your eyes wide. I am beginning to allow myself to notice these interactions as a message for me alone. I am ready to see where I am led + to discover what I will be taught.

I am challenging myself to be more aware of these occurrences as they take me to new ideas + places with the real possibility of changing my course of travel. Coincidences are often a sign that you are going with the flow of life. Coincidences do have a sense of direction. And, Awareness.

Intention with Attention : Attention with Intention

I have always been a spiritual person believing that there is some greater force helping me place one foot in front of the other. I have had so many amazing experiences to help me believe. I don’t follow a specific religion and haven’t for many years, but I do appreciate one’s want for something to believe in… That “want” to search for the interconnectedness from me to you.

Lots of information and energy is transferred to us daily via other people’s attitudes + personalities that may cause a shift in balance. Shift in ego. Shift in desire. Shift in energy. I am very sensitive to energy in a room. I have always been one of those individuals who can feel unbalanced, but knows how to exit the room to regain my stability > most of the time. Or, I can walk into a space and change the energy instantly. I have been told I can balance that space if I keep my patience and focus. And, I am extremely patient. That, I do not doubt. I am not saying it is easy. Most of us are drawn to positive people. Me: I feed off of them immensely.

Something is shifting…

Life is simply a process. Your choice how you want to process it.

And, damn it, I have begun mine!

my brief bus stop

Today I watched the rhythm of people passing me on sides of walked ways
tick tock lock
The lash-full frays


Navigating between the cracks of ledged curb tracks, I found myself sending tomorrow’s songs through curled over tips of my bathed sore gaze…

And I realized the privilege of loving for even one day when you’re frantically forgetting
frantically remembering

missing
what you once said you would never do to your own curbside avenue.

seedlings: the sign of new beginnings

There is something about spring that makes us all walk with a little bounce to our step. A season I personally love, as I am a flower-kind-of-gal and I love to have my hands in dirt! Tranquility is often discovered while quietly pruning and playing. Watching and watering.

And, growing.

This year my spring is just a bit more difficult and everyday I am trying to find the “bouncy” by lifting my head even higher. Oh, but I have been successful in the cat-call department (always a bit frustrating for me) + I have been "asked" out twice while walking those streets... Go me! And, I can’t forget my modeling moment at Macys – that was such a whimsical eye-opening experience!!

Are those the First Signs of spring?

Or, do you have to really feel spring deep down inside somewhere between the rib cage and hips in order to elevate yourself? I say, sometimes you just simply have to make believe the spring in your heart...

…so this year I decided to grow the majority of my flowers from seeds for a variety of reasons. I wanted to watch them grow-up with me. To see how they change and root to the surface beneath their souls, to tend and nurture an intimate process, and to gain some insight into my own new starting place -within. That is beginning to seed all on it’s own.

And, we are all growing up!

My seeds have moved out of their apartments and into condos! I can’t wait until they find their homes in my little cement yard. I am looking forward to sharing our summer together. And, I hope to share their backyard home right here.

It really is a special time of year.

kattitude: A sort of biography of me written at 26

Kattitude!
Jan. 2003

Paul and Carol Muscianesi gave birth to a blonde blue-eyed girl we call Kat. officially, Kathy-Marie, in the hoods of Flatbush, Brooklyn. Stoops and all, Kathy’re, found her block on September 15 of ‘76 as The Third in the clan.

Coming into life with a perplexed smile, she and They knew, one day she would change the world to see things from the inside. And so she danced and danced and was that little four year old ballerina grasping Daddy’s big hand. Hold tight, don’t let go. And she tumbled and twirled in shoes so pink with feet so right on a stage that bright so delicate and ever so sensitive to her flight.

Upon Jersey’s ground, exploring gymnastics only realizing the pink-netted tutu beckoned her heart for the next six years to come. She knew her body could move her mind from the belted tapping rhythm glide. It was then; the violin’s strings placed in tiny fingers grew, for five years shaking musical grounds! A story would begin. A body would tell. And her eyes turned an olive green, mysteriously, veiling her soul...

Little Kat. knew the more she did the more she made the smiles shine brighter. And she discovered books and words as that Student of the Month and the Star of the Week. And she smiled as she carried each ‘A’ by her side.

It was that crazy blue crayon and silly art teacher that opened her Color. To draw knowing she could do what she could do. Paints and charcoals and crayons and pastels and the world was no longer black and white. Or light and shadow and perspective. That’s it. That was all it ever was... A bag of gray in-betweens and mixed up extremes! The means between extremes, she said.

After school Art and Museum Cartoons became the sports of her heart. A house unsettled only made her understand much more. A box of crayons and a room full of Michael Jackson was the medicine supplied. Years of understanding the human emotions sent one student to study the Masters of Art.

And so Kat. grew into a girl with hopes and dreams of shining her beam and blasting human delight. She started to see the love in children’s smiles and curled toes and raised many neighborhood kids with cardboard paper and crazy glue ‘till their unruly teens set loose! She laughed and cried of things felt so deep and of not understanding how the world couldn’t see what her eyes gazed upon. How they just could not see…

The bright butterfly whisper and daisy punk rock dream and she knew she was made for moon skies. A force to be reckoned with, she was told. To Love. To write. To sing. To feel. To express the tears and sadness one feels with the frustrations of possessing a huge desire within. Yet, so happy to finally understand she has all the powers in the palm of her hand. Warm and Sweet. Delicate and Neat. Now that I know what I know. And then some, of course.

Kat., yea, she ain’t done. She never claimed to know it all, but she knew what the rest didn’t. She has barely left a trail of pebblestone curves upon her map so wide, but we don’t doubt she will. From the UP Up uP, reads the rest a-written.

And so she travels, daily, picking up and carrying the particles of True Life. In a wooden basket, are the parts of the story yet told. The idea of loving and living with a sunshine smile. The hopes of finding love so understanding as they intertwine fingers and hopscotch the Path.

Kat. will never be that other girl. She may feel too much too much of the time, but that’s what makes her this girl right here. Sometimes she sees things zipping by or hears what other just don’t. She knows the art of tuning more that just six strings. And she is not afraid of that Path under her feet. The chance of tripping or falling will always be hands first. She has taken the risks her heart was blessed with. She has loved and lost and loved again. With no regrets, she was given a bag filled with the sweet and salt of a soul.

That’s Kat, the girl next door to the girl next door.

A place where it all began: Giacomo + Anne Muscianesi

My Sicilian Grandfather and Czech/Hungarian Grandmother were such an inspiration.

Click on the picture to see it larger... look how beautiful my Grandmother was!!

-------

Sunday, December 2, 2001

The Cry of the Nightingale

It was the cry of the Birds on Friday. The yellowed canaries, tapering-tailed parakeets and seed-eating golden finches. Putting my nose up close to their cages, I started singing to captured winged creatures. I giggled and sighed, not caring that I looked absolutely ridiculous! Voices began sending me away outside of this me that was crouching on the floor and tapping on pet store bird coops. It was quite interesting when these Birds began to imitate me. Happily surrounded, I was so peaceful. And, on that same afternoon, I didn't know why I was all alone singing to a room full of Birds in a random pet store on Route 46, but I was about to find out.

"Come here, love." And that is when Grandma's story poured out to her little grand girl. "Kathy, when I leave this earth, I want to come back as a Bird. And I want you always to be on alert for a Chirping Bird outside your bedside window. It will be me one day who will be waking you up in the mornings."

And, after spending that following Sunday afternoon with my grandmother, I knew why I sang with the Birds in a pet shop. I sat there and listened to her and accepted the loose pocket change she emptied out of a white sock and placed in my hands (and I have still have that change in a red cardboard box quietly tucked in a desk drawer upstairs). I even helped her call her brother. Rewriting my phone number big, I scotch-taped it to her table lamp besides her phone. "Grandma, call me if you need anything."

Dinner was being served at her nursing home and she shooed me out. So typical of this social butterflyed soul at a mere 88. I can only aspire to be half of what she was to me. I told her twice that I loved her. Smiling, she pushed me out the front door, "be careful, Kathy, I love you, too."

It happened under two hours later. The sweetest woman was taken away from my family. Just like that.

And, all I wanted that Sunday evening were those Birds. Every single Bird at the pet store, I wanted in my room to loudly chirp and sigh. For they reminded me of where I needed to be this day. It was their gift that allowed me to spend the last few hours with my grandmother.

That evening before I left, I thanked my grandmother for telling me how happy she was that I bought my first shiny guitar. And for telling me she wanted me to start singing, too. Because on Friday, I went to look for that red guitar. And, that same day, I landed in the pet store next to the big guitar shop just so I could sit on the floor and sing with the Birds.

So, keep sending me that Chirping Bird, because I could really use someone to sing with...

ps....on the morning of Anne Muscianesi's burial, I did wake up to a bird literally perched at my beside window singing so loudly and sweetly, it was absolutely heart warming and amazing...

my own drop of jupiter.

*Head + Heart in the same place...

my own drop of jupiter.

philadelphia
September 2004
katm.

Home is where you turn the blinds Down from the inside. At least that is what I am learning. Sitting here, up high above the street and below the trees’ breeze, has me wondering about the place I untie my shoes. Or kick off my heels. Or rest my head. Or turn down My blinds. My second home in the last seven and a half months. My fourth home in twenty-eight years. And like the first, in Brooklyn, this one has me in a neighborhood of blocks and benches. And windows full of small religious statues and family heirlooms. …And crazy Italians, of course, they’re just not mine!

Yet.

Unsure of how I got here or exactly why I came, I realize it was mainly Time. Beyond me, something or someone made me realize I was too comfortable. At Home. So this new place asks something different of me. It actually asks nothing of me but more from me. It asks me to trust my feet and my hands. It asks me to hold my head even higher and to walk much farther. It asks me to contemplate street signs and soften strange faces. It asks me to listen longer and talk slower. It asks me to be alone a little longer. It asks me to understand my true character. And I ask that it guides me to her…

I have spent a lot of time looking out the windows of my third floor home. With the fire department down 12th street and the so called “Italian Social Club” across from my room, I have a lot to observe and to contemplate. I look out from my space into a new place with a skyline full of building tops and small deli shops. And I still feel like I am here for the weekend in a room decorated with paintings that look a lot like mine. My first-week; and circumstances found me alone in my new safe-haven. At first, I cringed. To think, here I am in a place that didn’t have me figured out, just yet, as I had not figured her out too much. But each day brought me to acquaintances that quickly became comforting friends. Each day asked one more thing of me.

Strange how changing where you hang your clothes also changes how you decide to wear them. I find myself throwing on the comfort of old-school kicks in cute pony-tailed hair to be my new uniform so I can careen down the street to my own inner beat. And, I am still humming. I keep finding myself singing some sort of song inside whenever I am walking alone. I half-wonder what I am doing when I catch myself in the moment. Who walks down the street humming? I guess I do. Hey, maybe if they think I’m crazy, they won’t bother me!

The guys at Ippolitos fish market wave when I walk by. And I wave back laughing. On Friday, they must have seen me trek by three times as I moved my car three times. Only I found out later, I never had to move Miss Cassie. I got the inside parking secrets for the street of Dickinson from the Bertonlino Brothers themselves. Cassie, I still worry about her often. She is still new and un-driven lately. She must be confused. She went from the wear and tear to the bare of going almost nowhere.

It has been a long few days and my body is telling me to quiet itself and adjust on my own. I have walked more random miles than my back was prepared for. All my tadasanas and trikonasanas couldn’t prepare my feet for the curbside avenues. I am slowly tiring down and easing into the new night sounds. The city always speaks when you live in the front six-windowed room on a corner street. Whether it’s the Hip Hop beats at 3am or the Italian Tunes from 7am-7pm, you know life is being lived out there. And you have to decide how you want to live with it…

I think the Real Sign of Truth that hit me actually hit the woman walking by me. My friend and I sat on a bench on Labor Day in Rittenhouse Square Park across from an aspiring trumpet player and down the way from (what I thought was ) a cute inspiring guitar player. As we shared some silence, I witnessed one of the single-oddest-moments in my life, thus far. A bird fell from the sky and landed on a woman’s head! It wasn’t a dainty little Oops-a-Daisy. It was a Hardcore-Ouch-Fall! She looked at me and I turned to (one of) my Saving Graces dumbfounded in shock. He and I were speechless. Everyone stood still. It was pure confusion. I felt like Time tested the park for a few moments. We all looked from one person to the next. When I looked back to find the bird, I found her two little feet walking away.

Some of you know the birds and I have our own secrets and I often share them in my art and music. And for those of you who don’t, I will just say they were sent from above to remind me of many things in life. This specific one on this specific day was telling me to Wake up. wake Up. You see, The Fallen Bird did rise again. She, somehow, managed to get up and move all over again…

And I did too. It may take me the next six months to understand how much this change is vital to my growth, both spiritually and emotionally, and that I should not fight it. So, I am willing to take that little bird’s accident as a good measure of Faith.

Keep your head in-check.
Watch for the falling birds around us.
You just never know how you can

affect the effect

of this
world.