Bridges And Castles: A Gift From My Brilliant Father

photo by rqerita

I spent this morning talking to my mom about my dad.

“Remember that car he drove when he was in Texas?  It used to get so hot that he tried to fry an egg on it,”  both of us laughing because that was so like him.   He would open cans of ravioli and vegetables and heat them on the stove for my sister and me when we were little.  Then we would stand by the stove and eat out of the cans.  No pots, no dishes to wash.

Very efficient.

Yes, he was an engineer.  Capable of figuring out amazingly complex things and yet, clueless in the everyday world we lived in.

Now, on Father’s Day, Seth and I were on a trolley crossing a bridge from San Diego to Coronado and the guide said,  “You’ll notice that the bridge has a few odd twists  to it.  That is because it had to be high enough for navy ships to pass under it but that made it too steep for trucks and buses so the bridge so they added a few extra turns and loops.”  I was fascinated.  Then I realized this was exactly how my father felt every time we crossed a bridge that had a unique structure or detail to it.  I remember him pulling the car off the road, not to admire the view, what a silly thought, but to examine the beams of a bridge.  He said there was great beauty in the solution the engineers came to in answering the simple yet difficult problem of how to cross from one side to another.  Form and function fused in a steely poem.  Of course, I thought he was nuts and what on earth could be so interesting about a bridge?

When I think sit down to play through my well worn book of piano sonatas, I feel the same thrill he did.  I often stop and scrutinize the beginning theme, the key changes, the codas and the variations  and come away in awe of how brilliantly Beethoven created his musical answer to the classical sonata form.

And this is something I do whenever I see a structure in life that is beautiful in form and function.  The bridge in San Diego, the well thought out presentation by Jean Bonilla about the potential of entrepreneurship in global economies at the Americans for the Arts Convention this past weekend in San Diego, an etude by Chopin.  I look for the structural thinking and the details that make it soar.   I think like my father, the engineer.

He would smile knowing that I love bridges and how that has helped me see the inner logic of an engineer’s mind as well as the inner castles of a composer’s inspiration.

What a gift.

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Hoong Yee

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How To Fill The Street With Teary Eyed Moms Clutching Cameras

Sky, far left

 

“Mom?”

“Mom?  I can’t find my cool white tie.  Mom?”

I took a deep breath and did my very best evolved Buddhist move.  It did the trick.  Five minutes later I was burning rubber along the Jackie Robinson Parkway into Forest Hills.  Squeaked into a parking spot, slammed the door and tore down Austin Street to Anthony’s, a mens’ shop that always has some stylish expensive looking linen jacket in their window.

“We’re all out of skinny white ties.  It is June, you know, lots of weddings, graduations, proms.”  I felt my world crumbling.  What was I going to do now?  The young salesman pulled out several light colored ties.  ”Perhaps one of these – “

“Absolutely not.  He is wearing black and white.  Black shirt, pants, shoes, belt – black.  The tie has to be white.”  I practically barked at him, startling a man trying on a jacket in the back of the store.

“I do have one white tie left.”  He rummaged through the display case and pulled out a wide, white satin tie, slightly wrinkled, but otherwise perfect.  ”Give me a minute and I’ll iron it for you.”

I practically floated home with the precious tie.  Sky met me at the door.  ”I have to meet my friends for pictures.  Now!”

Jumped in the truck, tore down the street and pulled up in front of the house.  One of the moms helped Sky put his tie on while I fumbled with my camera.  When I looked up, the smile on his face made me forget everything except that tonight, the night of his eighth grade prom, was something really special.  And you know what?  I was so thankful I was able to be part of the craziness with him.

Do you think they’ll play slow music?  Who should I dance with?  What should I use in my hair, gel or mousse? Did you ever talk about stuff like this with your mom when you were thirteen?  Oh, my God, and here we are plotting prom strategy, Sky and me.  I took another deep breath and did my best evolved cool Mom move.  I just listened and nodded my head non judgmentally.

Every mom standing on the street snapping pictures of this well dressed group of kids had a similar story to tell.   For the girls, it was the dress, of course!  And the shoes, the makeup, should they wear their hair up or down?

It occurred to me that these kids grew up together from mommy and me classes til now.  Many of us moms were waddling around, heavy and pregnant on the beach thirteen summers ago.  How lucky they are to have friendships that stretch from sippy cups and strollers to the dawning of their high school years.

“Mom, stop taking pictures.”

“Mom, you should leave now.”

“Mom!”

Sky was right.  I stood with the other moms watching the kids clambering into cars and driving off to the party of their young lives.

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Hoong Yee

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The Art Of Transforming A Landfill, One Haiku At A Time

This post first appeared on The World’s Strongest Librarian

photo by jag9889

I have a secret superpower.

It is my amazing ability to change my world into syllables.

The girl who makes me a cappuccino in the local Italian bakery tossed me an approving nod the other day when I told her every meeting I have deserves  una bella scatola di biscotti.

“You are – ” she leaned over the counter and pushed the bakery box filled with hazelnut and chocolate biscotti towards me.  ” – how you say, smart?  No, not smart.”  I kept smiling although I wasn’t sure where she was going with this and I was still waiting for my cappuccino.

“You know how to – fix things.  Like a the guy who come to clean out that stupid pipe in the back.  Madonna!  What a mess.”

I slowly started to turn on my superpowers to take control of the world.  Take a deep breath, clear my thoughts, focus my mind on the task before me.

Coo-kies and cof-fee…

I lowered my eyes and pulled out my unread New York Times and concentrated on changing her from an absent minded bakery employee  into an efficient milk steaming barista.

For a morn-ing meet-ing of…

She turned to her machines and started making the coffee.  Suddenly she slapped her forehead and said with a wide eyed look of triumph,  “Ah!  I know.  You know what you are?”

So close, my cappuccino is so close.  Must remain calm and the world will be mine.  All I need is one more line and my coffee.

“Di me, bella.  What?”  I said in my best superhero-under-duress voice.

In a conspiratorial whisper she breathed,  “You are one of -  i cognoscenti, the people who know.”

I cognoscenti.

I cog-no-scen-ti

I closed my hands around the coffee cup she handed me and I opened my eyes to meet hers.

Cookies and coffee

for a morning meeting of

i cognoscenti

Perfect.

Mission accomplished, with cookies for later, coffee for now and my morning captured forever in a spillproof haiku.  But what impressed me more was an article in the newspaper that caught my eye as I was syllabicating the world to my liking (is that really a word?).  I realized that my superpowers pale in comparison to what the deceptively simple haiku can accomplish.

What can a haiku do?

It can transform a one of the city’s largest eyesore of a landfill into “urban oasis with wildlife habitats, horseback riding, mountain biking and meandering nature trails”.  The  City’s Parks Department invited people to envision what this future Staten Island park could be like in a seventeen syllable snapshot, a haiku.  The results of their third annual Freshkills Haiku  Contest include this gem:

Somewhere underneath

The bike paths I will ride on

My old love letters

-Stevie D’Arbanville

Imagine that!  The power of i cognoscenti in seventeen syllables can change the world, one landfill at a time.

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Hoong Yee

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Why I Question People Who Give Me Money

photo by rennan

I suppose the first thing most of us do when receiving checks in the mail for unimaginable amounts of money is to shriek and start to twist and shout uncontrollably.  At least, that is what I do.

It seems almost counterintuitive to do anything else but there is something that I do that does seem strange.

I take a deep breath, shake myself out of my celebrating frenzy and I pick up the phone to ask the person why they are giving me money.

That’s right.  I question their judgment.  Politely, of course, but determined to understand why.

I want to know what was it about my letter, my application, my anything that impressed them.  I want to know how well my request reflects their needs.  I want to know what was weak.  I want to know if they are excited about my project and why.

Most of the time, people will be very nice about sharing this information with you.  A lot of them are surprised that I am asking,  “Usually it is the person that did not get money that calls asking why, not the person who did get money.”

Let me share a little secret with you

I am a funder too.  Every year I read a stack of applications and actively participate in animated conversations over who deserves funding and how much.I would love to talk to an applicant and encourage them to tweak something in their narrative or rethink their workplan.  To share some insight that could transform their application into a success one.

I am in the business of funding creative people.  I want to help people become better at pitching their story and writing successful grants, especially the ones who call  for panel comments when they are not given funding.   It will demonstrates to me that you are passionate about what you do and you care about what people think of your work.  Do this whenever you get money too.  This is not done often enough and it should be the one of the first things you do.

I also send out letters of inquiry, grant applications and requests for funding to support the work I do.  I win some and I lose some.  But regardless of the outcome, I always call.   I can’t think of a better place to really start building a strong relationship with a person than in this very situation.  Your dream, their money.  Face it, it’s like being married.

Here’s what I include in every conversation with someone who gives me money and who doesn’t give me money:

Start every conversation with a thank you

Acknowledge, acknowledge, acknowledge.  Let people know how much you appreciate their support.

Ask for panel comments

By understanding how people judge merit is often an eye opening experience.  It can help you be more competitive if you know what criteria are more important to them than others.  You can also get a sense of the pool of applicants and the kinds of projects you are up against.

Listen and take really good notes

You are not going to remember anything if you don’t write it down. Repeat an answer for clarity if you need to.  Make sure you keep a record of your notes so that you can refer to them quickly the next time your speak to them.

Thank them for their time

Be grateful for their help.  Always begin and end with acknowledging a person by thanking them.  Be sure they are left with a good impression of you as a conscientious and gracious person.

Someone it would be a pleasure to continue giving money to.

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Hoong Yee

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Word of mouth is the best way to share, don’t you agree?

How Is Your Inner Beach Bum?

The season of flip flops, guys in shorts with baseball caps, American flags flapping wildly in the ocean breeze,  boys like Sky, with boogie boards tucked under their arms riding their bicycles to the beach and beach bums  has finally burst through the last gasp of winter. Welcome summer!  Welcome to Rockaway Beach!

My summer checklist

Outdoor grill working?   Check.

Outdoor shower stocked with towels?  Check.

Patio furniture hosed down?  Check.

Fresh supply of sunblock?  Check.

Summer in Rockaway Beach is not a season.  It is the point of the exclamation ending the sentence, “Surf’s up!”  It is the sand in your shoes that will not go away.  It is  “Margaritaville” cued up as your personal soundtrack.

Did I mention pride?
Locals are swimming in it.

I must confess that Seth and I started our weekend in Manhattan at a Ford dealership on the west side of Manhattan. It is hard to believe but we had a great experience mostly because Todd Nighe, the guy in the picture next to Seth, really took care of us. And you know what? Great service like this just made us lifetime Ford Explorer fans. I feel the same way about my dentist, the woman who cuts my hair and the bank representative who does our refinancing.

Weekend of Gay Honkers

We spent a few early morning hours by the water waiting for our car to be serviced and were startled out of our caffeinated stupor by a sudden flock of geese landing in front of us.

“Honkkkkk!” yelled one of them swimming towards us.

“Honkkkkk!” replied the other one swimming away from us.

Rinse and repeat.

This went on for a while. “They must be mates.” said Seth. “Or they’re flirting with each other.”

I peered at their coloring and said, “Those are males, that’s why they’re honking at each other. Females have different colored feathers and they are much better behaved.”

Seth shook his head. “Those two look the same to me, ” he listened to them squawking across the water and said, “They must be gay honkers.”

Gay honkers.

With that image fixed forever in my mind’s eye, clearly, it was time to get out of Manhattan and back into the Rockaways.  I simply cannot take him anywhere anymore.

This first weekend on the beach swelled with high numbers of beachlovers, surfers and boogy boarders. Rockaway Beach shone like seaglass.  Hey, we are a beach town nestled in the borough of Queens,  really not far at all from Manhattan.  Closer than you think.  Imagine, a New York City beach!

Here’s how to make sure your inner beach bum rocks:

Wear sunblock

Bring a beach book

Stroll down the boardwalk and people watch

Have a Blue Island Coffee or a Rockaway Taco

Take a surfing lesson

Still here after the lifeguards have gone?  Check out the Bungalow Bar for a great meal by the water

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Getting to Wow! to feel good, do good and look good

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Style Notes from me, your artspy

Hoong Yee

– Subscribe and get a little Wow! every day

– Forward the link to someone you think would be interested

– Link to a post on Twitter (follow me @hylkrakauer)

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Thanks so much! I really appreciate your help.

Word of mouth is the best way to share, don’t you agree?