A big dose of culture

My office is closed between Christmas & New Year!  This year, The Husband and I decided to stay home rather than travel overseas.  I am looking forward to my week off to recuperate and relax.  I already know how my week is going to shake out.  It's going to consist of bargain shopping, reading, bikram yoga, baking, and museum visits!  There are soooo many awesome exhibits in NYC right now (below is a list of what I want to see) and I'm excited to catch up on my culture.  Will let you know what I think from each visit.

American Museum of Natural History [AMNH]
Traveling the Silk Road: Ancient Pathway to the Modern World

Brooklyn Museum
James Tissot: 'The Life of Christ'

Guggenheim
Kandinsky

Morgan Library & Museum
A Woman's Wit: Jane Austen's Life & Legacy

Museum of Modern Art [MOMA]
Bauhaus 1919-1933: Workshops for Modernity
Monet's Water Lilies
Tim Burton

Whitney Museum of American Art
Georgia O’Keeffe: Abstraction

Bikram Yoga East Harlem

Yesterday, I decided to practice at Bikram East Harlem because I've heard so many wonderful things about the place from fellow bikram yogis at my studio.  I planned to take the 11am class with teacher and studio owner Stephanie Pope Caffey.  It was a bit of a schlep from my apartment but it was worth the trip and I'm happy I went.  Besides, I love checking out different studios.

First, the studio is beautiful, clean, and not smelly (I won't mention any names but there are definitely some studios here in the city that have some serious funk going on and it smacks your olfactory nerve as soon as you open the front door, which is a real shame).  The color palette of the studio is brown and ochre yellow with lots of wood (hardwood floors, bath mats, doors, blinds) and candles.  The studio occupies the upper two floors of a three-story walk-up.  The first floor is the lobby, men and women's locker rooms, a small waiting area, and a small studio for private sessions.  The main studio on the second floor is bright with windows that allow lots of natural light and high ceilings.  Right outside the hot room, is a small waiting area that houses a rotating art gallery of work from local artists.

I was greeted by a sweet, older woman at the desk.  Later, I find out it is Stephanie's mom (Stephanie's sister is the studio's operations manager) who was so sweet that I wanted to take her home!  She got me registered, checked me in, and pointed out the lay of the land.  From the moment I entered the lobby, I was struck by the fact that the studio truly served the community.  Most of the peoople milling about the studio were African-American and in my class at 11am, the majority of the students were multicultural in background. I had never practiced in a US yoga studio where this was the case.  In fact, Stephanie is the first black yoga teacher I've ever had.  So cool!  I set myself up and when Stephanie walked in, she asked me to identify myself.  "Welcome to the studio," she said warmly.  "Thank you," I replied.  And then we began our 90-minute moving meditation.  She was a great teacher:  stuck to the dialogue, was encouraging and compassionate, called out corrections to students, and reminded us to practice our stillness in between postures.  At some point during the class, Stephanie said to a student, "You are in a safe place here.  As teachers, we do a lot of talking.  If you listen carefully and follow our instructions, you will be okay.  I am here to help you so let yourself try.  (pause)  Outside this studio, well, that's different!"  Another time, she really encouraged us to go for it in each and every pose and asked us to consider this:  "Instead of anticipating the end of the posture and waiting to hear 'change', you hear 'change' and then give it one last push and go for your best before you come out."  Hmmm...never thought of it that way.

After my shower, Stephanie and I chatted a bit.  She offered to give me back my money and I looked at her quizically. 

Me:  Really?!  My class is free? 
Stephanie:  Yes, teachers are free.
Me:  Oh!!!  I'm not a teacher! 
Stephanie:  Really?!  Ok, then you don't get your money back.  (laughs)  I totally mistook you for a teacher!  You have such a beautiful practice.
Me:  Awwww...thank you so much!!  You know, you're not the first person who has said that to me.
Stephanie:  Have you thought about becoming one?
Me:  Definitely.

I've considered teaching, yes.  And I've even considered becoming a studio owner.  But there's something in my heart that tells me to wait.  Now doesn't seem to be the right time.

If I lived in the neighborhood, I would totally support Stephanie's studio, because who doesn't want to support a business that is a total asset to the local community?!  If you are a regular bikram yogi in the city or simply visiting the city, consider checking out her studio.  It is a family-run business that is warm, welcoming, and captures the heart and soul of yoga.


This is Stephanie teaching.  Look how pumped she is.  You go girl!



All photos are courtesy of Bikram Yoga East Harlem.

Bikram Yoga East Harlem
4 East 116th Street
New York, NY  10029
(b/w Fifth & Madison Avenues)
212-369-1830 (Phone)
212-369-1824 (Fax)
www.bikramyogaeastharlem.com

Still Got the Moves

...and the stamina. Ha! Four Tanqueray and tonics and some unrecognizable shot later, I was still standing at 4:30 this morning. I was out celebrating my cousin's birthday at Strata. It was a nice little group of her friends, whom I've never met. But you know me, I can hang with anyone. And I sure did...and they were all 8 years my junior. They must've thought me a dinosaur. I chuckled to myself when two asked each other in wonderment, "When did we grow up and get old?" LOL -- ok spring chicken at @ 24. Yeah, you're old. And I'm a well preserved mummy. It's all good though because I had a great time...and just my sheer experience taught these kids a thing or too about confidence. ;) I'm so happy to be in my 30s!

Last night, I dusted off my dancing shoes and showed off my dance moves. It was a small blessing that MoJo wasn't there. He would've been bored to tears and begging to go home, which would've totally cramped my style cuz I'm a dancer! Had great fun. This episode of clubbing should last me a couple of months. Not my thing as it once used to be.

SUPER FAT Tuesday

Are the stars grossly aligned so well that we are celebrating Super and Fat Tuesday on the same day? And of course, there's the Giants and the ticker tape parade in downtown Manhattan this morning. And there's Chinese New Year in two days!!!

I'm completely over-stimulated, I must admit.

I did my civic duty and voted after work. Is this a great great presidential race this year, or what?!! I never thought that I would ever see such fervor in this country to vote especially among young people. I'm used to their complacency, feelings of disenfranchisement, and total lack of interest. I just watched ABC News and thus far, 11 million registered Democrats came out and voted nationwide tonight. And of the tallied votes there is only a 17,000 popular vote difference between Clinton and Obama. It's an exciting nail biter!!!

After I voted, I witnessed a very sweet moment in front of the local public library, which served as a polling place on days like today: an African-American woman was taking a picture of her daughter, who couldn't have been more than 5 years old. As I walked up to them, I realized they had just voted together and the mom was taking a picture of the historic event and her daughter held open a big sign hanging around her neck...kinda like those folks on a NYC corner wearing billboards and distributing flyers for manicures, eyebrow threading, or men's custom suit tailoring. I was thrilled that this little girl was getting taught at an early age about the importance of this civic duty! Touched by this moment, I stopped and offered to take their picture together. Mom agreed and as I was about to take the picture, I had to ask the girl to open up her sign since it got crushed because she was so busy hugging mom. She was so cute as she obediently followed my instructions, revealing a homemade sign with a picture of Obama that said, "Obama for President".

Doesn't this story just make your heart melt??? What a country!

There, I've proclaimed my side.

What are the taboo topics one does not discuss on a first date? Religion, politics, and sex (and ex-es as a corollary to this topic). Well, I would rather not discuss these topics either on my blog. So why declare who I support? Because it's important for me to state who I endorse (Ha, like I'm a somebody with any political power or money!) at this juncture of the race.

Hey wait a minute...I voted. Why didn't I act like a total slovenly glutton in honor of Fat Tuesday?

A Minute with Ciarán Hinds

I relish in my confidence and ability to talk to anyone. With charm and grace, I usually can hold my own in any conversation. College and university presidents, philanthropists, banking CEOs, the young and the old.

Unless...

...I am standing in front of an actor. I can't believe how star struck I get! All my charms drain away and instead, I hear the pounding of my own heart in my ears as they burn searingly hot. Suddenly, all my easy confidence disappears and I have a case of temporary amnesia as to what to say next. A large part of me wants to remain indifferent and am ashamed that I react this way. Heck, these actors are people too; we're no different...well perhaps except in talent and in money?! My NYC pride reminds me that it is totally unfitting for a New Yorker to be flustered with a famous person. This city is a great equalizer; the world continues to turn regardless of who you are. People pay you no mind even if you are a star most of the time.

As a result, I've sat next to Kyle MacLachlan on the subway, dined next to Tom Selleck in a restaurant, seen Denzel Washington doing sit ups with his trainer at the gym, walked past Spike Lee buying his morning bagel from the guy in the corner cart, walked past Jason Biggs on the sidewalk only to encounter Ethan Hawke two minutes later, sitting in the front of a restaurant I entered, ridden the subway with Natalie Merchant and her newborn baby girl, accidentally bumped into Sarah Michelle Gellar, and watched Brad Pitt exit a pediatrician's office with Pax...all with such cool composure you could refrigerate cucumber on my face and body! Puhleaze. I am a New Yorker and I do not create a fool out of myself by gawking at celebrities. This is not Hollywood folks. Decorum, please.


But today was different. A special screening of Persuasion at Brooklyn College featured a Q&A with Ciarán Hinds after the film. He spoke for 15 minutes about the film, its production, and his own particular craft of acting. He was charming, soft-spoken, intelligent, funny, and quite the gentleman. I was struck at how different he is when he performs, most notably evident in his voice. His tone takes on more power, a kind of air if you will, when he's in character, which was lacking tonight. The only time I've noticed this kind of shift in a person is my cousin in the Philippines, Methodiusmonk. The moment he puts on his robes and celebrates Mass, he becomes a different person. Possessed by the Spirit, his exterior shell is of course the same, but his way of being is unrecognizable to us, his family. I suppose this is what I see too when actors are in "the zone"? Or when I used to give presentations; I was "on".

The Q&A session was an absolute delight albeit short. I managed to take some pictures with my camera phone but I felt absolutely silly doing so. As you can see, some pics are blurry because I so wanted to hurry up and put the phone away while equally desiring pictures of Mr. Hinds. Everyone rushed to the stage to ask for autographs and take pictures. I resolved that I would not get his autograph like everybody else. Yes, my NYC pride prevented me. Instead, I exited the auditorium and went to the bathroom in preparation for the hour subway ride home. After exiting the stall, I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Where was the confident woman I loved? Why was I letting this moment slip away? I had an opportunity for a guaranteed minute with Mr. Hinds so why not take it? I reasoned that I was not stalking him on some street corner with a raised picture and pen shoved to his face among a crowd of other fans. No, this opportunity would be more genteel.

So I forced myself to go back into the theater and I happened to be the last person on line. Thinking the woman before me was the last person he would speak with, he got up but then he saw me and stopped. I flashed him my winning smile, the one I've depended on to get out of numerous parking tickets or used to end a debate I've won. "I'm sorry Mr. Hinds. If I could oblige you for one last signature?" "Of course," he said and got back down to his knees. By the way, he was on the stage and I was on the ground. He looked so comfortable in such an uncomfortable position -- on all fours on a hard floor -- I wondered if he regularly did cat/cow poses from that tabletop position he seem to so easily be in? I handed him a playbill for The Seafarer. "I thought you were brilliant in the play," was all I could muster. Oh my wit escaped me! I wish I could've said more like how MoJo was so gripped by the tension that his hands shook at the end of the play! But the moment passed. He looked at me and asked, "To whom shall I address this?" I said my name, spelled it, and I watched him, mesmerized at the deliberate way he wrote. All I could say was, "Oh, I hope it doesn't smear!" referring to my ink pen's possible inability to stick on the shiny playbill cover. Gad, how idiotic did I sound?! When he signed his name, I thanked him again and he said, "Oh, it's alright." I smiled again and practically ran out of the theater relieved that our encounter was over.

I completely came undone.

So here it...a trophy for my courage. It's funny how my wish to meet him and get his autograph on my playbill came true. I remember how much I wanted to wait for him to come out of the theater after the play but I felt silly with MoJo with me. And here, a few days later, I managed to get it in a more intimate and personal setting.

Ask and you shall receive.


UPDATE: Click here to see another blogger writing about the evening's experience and thanks to ClaudeS39, we have a video of Ciarán's appearance that afternoon!

Double Celebration

Today, MoJo and I celebrate the one-year anniversary of our engagement. I marvel at how much our lives have changed in a mere year. I am absolutely thrilled that we are married now but a year ago, I never did think it was possible even though I wanted it to be so.

This hindsight reminds me that it is not meant for us to know the "how" but merely to express our desire for something and if it is God's will, finds a way to make it possible. A year ago before this day, I imagined we would get engaged in the summer after we graduated and that we would have to wait at least a year before we got married. How would we pay for the wedding knowing full well it would be big since we came from large families? Knots would form in my stomach as all these unanswerable questions swirled and lingered in my mind.

But life threw me a curve ball last February as it did MoJo, who realized that it was the right time to pop the question. And as the saying goes, "When one door closes, another opens." Events happened in such a way that led us to an October 2007 wedding and all sorts of people were incredibly generous. Would I have guessed that our wedding would happen so quickly despite my desire for it to be so? Absolutely not.

Our humanity limits our understanding of the infinitesimal possibilities for things, events, dreams to happen. We cannot see the big canvas of our lives nor are we meant to see. We merely get glimpses. I remember the Historian telling me that God gives us only headlights so that we can only see the few meters ahead.

As I contemplate what I want to do when I grow up this 2008, I must remember that I cannot focus on the how I am to accomplish my dreams. Rather, I am going to simply dream big. And somehow, with faith and purposeful action, each dream will be realized in its appointed time.

If you know what to do to reach your goal, it's not a big enough goal.
- Bob Proctor, Auther & Speaker

Oh, and by the way: can we say best Super Bowl E.V.E.R.?!?!!!!!!!!
Go go go go Giants!!!
Sorry Boston for blemishing your oh-too-perfect record.

AP Photo: Plaxico Burress catching the winning touchdown!!

The Seafarer by Conor McPherson

Hurry! See The Seafarer. I can't remember the last time I've seen a play this good. Granted, I don't see a lot of plays but perhaps I might see more now, thanks to this one.

Set in Ireland, the protagonist Sharky returns to take care for his blind older brother. It's Christmas Eve and the two are in the house along with two other friends to drink and play poker. One friend brings a guest from Sharky's past, Mr. Lockheart, who turns out to be the devil himself coming to collect Sharky's soul. Sharky has to win the game in order to save it.

Tension replaced laughter in moments, only to revert back once again to laughter. This cycle continued throughout the play. MoJo was so gripped that he found his hands shaking by the end. It really was that good. The writing was excellent but the acting was even better...if you can imagine something better than excellent.

Conleth Hill, Jim Norton, David Morse, Ciarán Hinds and Sean Mahon
The actors of Conor McPherson's The Seafarer (l-r)
Photo by Joan Marcus

We walked out of the theater absolutely delighted by the play's ability to draw us in and forget about the world for 2.5 hours. As we walked back to the subway, I felt as if I jumped the space-time continuum. I felt disoriented as my eyes tried to adjust to the bright lights of Times Square compared to the drab, dreary house in Ireland I had just been in a few minutes earlier.

For the next hour, MoJo and I discussed the play, compared notes, and continued to feel the endorphin-like effects of having just undergone a fantastic experience. I was so completely moved that my dreams last night were racy and tumultuous. The content of my dreams, I cannot remember. I awoke feeling like my brain ran some kind of marathon...it was spinning and moving so quickly I couldn't hold a moment of it in my hand.

My main reason to see the play centers solely on watching Ciarán Hinds act. Captivated by his portrayal of Frederick Wentworth in the 1995 BBC TV-film version of Jane Austen's Persuasion (my absolute favorite of Jane Austen's novels) he got on my list of "must-see-actors-any-chance-I-get". Tonight, I was not disappointed by his performance and his name remains planted firmly on my list.

Now if Hinds & Alan Rickman can be in a play together, it would be a dream come true! I would be the first in line to get tickets. :)

We ate dinner at Etcetera Etctera and the meal was nothing to write home about. Rarely, do we order dessert but the hazelnut ice cream doused with amaretto and espresso caught our eyes. So we ordered it and we were delighted by the sweetness of the ice cream juxtaposed against the bitterness of the espresso. Why have coffee and dessert separately when you can have it together?! Delicious! And easy enough to make at home.

Engaged!

MoJo took me to the Planetarium at the Museum of Natural History. Amidst the planets and the moons, he got down on one knee, presented me with my very own shiny star, and asked me to marry him! After five minutes of bawling my eyes out, I said YES! The poor thing, I think he got nervous when I couldn't speak for several minutes. :)

A fuzzy picture taken on my camera phone, minutes after it all happened.

The two of us after the proposal -- we are on the moon! :)

A Different Kind of Island

Picture courtesy of Mojo, taken on our penultimate day in Maui

The Acupuncuturist told me yesterday that I was not being present.

The A: Girl! You, your head is still in Maui!

JoJo: I could've told you that. I miss that place. I just don't want to be here.

The A: This city is wonderful; there are lots of museums, restaurants, and plenty of culture. Take advantage of it. Do something every week. I bet you those people on Maui would give anything to have what you have and live in NYC. This is the center of the universe! (twinkle in his eye)

JoJo (laments): I know. I love NYC. This is my home, where I grew up. I need to fall in love with it again. But it's such a rat race!

The A: You know, Manhattan is an island. (smiles) Bring some of that aloha back here.

JoJo: Yeah. (pause) With millions of crazy people living on it!!!!!!! Grrr...


Went back to work today. It's definitely the most direct way to get over the lingering jet lag that I'm still trying to hang on to. I'm spoiled, I know. I've been off for three weeks and had 5 days since returning to the mainland to readjust.

Isn't it funny how even if we've got it good, we are still never happy? Jeez. Need to reflect more on that ever elusive state of happiness. I know it doesn't have to be elusive. We humans just choose to make it that way. I need to also keep working on being present. I don't know what it is. Everyone feels a bit depressed after returning from a great trip. I just feel like I got the wind knocked out of me in a way that I've never felt from other trips I've taken in the past.

Blame it on the Commute

I just discovered why I am always late in submitting my papers in graduate school. I had my eureka moment on the subway coming home. It's the travel time! When I was an undergrad at MHC, the walk time to my professor's office mailbox was easily calculated. No forseeable delay, no acts of God, no transportation to deal with, just my good old two legs. These days, I have to schlep on the train to drop off my paper and I'm blaming the NYC MTA, the slow walking peeps on the sidewalk especially since now's the season to tote incredibly large shopping bags, the traffic lights, you name it!

My train painstakingly took far longer to get into the city than usual as it crawled slowly through the tunnel underneath the East River. I arrived 2 minutes after 5pm at the NYU Anthro Department building and it was already locked. It's the Friday before Christmas -- who was I kidding that somebody would somehow still be there.

Nonetheless, I'm a free woman...for now. Went and had myself a Sapporo with my sushi at Enju after I dropped off my paper. MoJo has already gone home for the holidays. And my classmates, well, no one took me up on my offer to celebrate the handing in of our papers with drinks.

My focus now turns to Christmas and finally to Maui. But first, sleep.

There Always Has to Be that One

Moron.

Arrived at work more than an hour late due to my train experiencing door problems. Eventually, we all evacuated the train because the door issue remained. As a mob stood on the platform, waiting for the now defunct train to pull out of the station, the doors briefly opened and closed and some IDIOT decides to jump on. His bag and his foot get caught in the doors, leaving them slightly ajar. What the hell was this guy thinking??? Not only did the train remain out of service but because of his stupid antic, he made us all wait longer before the train could pull out of the station. I think this is an instance when Gothamists are allowed to mockingly scorn and pelt things at idiots like him for doing the dumbest things.

People were all disgruntled but I loudly reminded them that this time last year, the trains went on strike and we had to either walk, bike, or carpool to work. I'd rather choose this incovenience over last year's (although walking the 6 miles to and from work wasn't so bad since I powerwalk that distance in Central Park). People realized that I was right and some even thanked me for reminding them. Oh how soon we forget.

Transit Strike Day #3

Day 3 of the strike: another walk across the Queensboro. It's amazing how we are all creatures of habit. I saw the same blonde guy in a black leather jacket rollerblading past me as I left my apartment and started my walk the exact same time I did yesterday. Made the same time I did yesterday to the office too. Amazing!

I adjusted my clothing appropriately for today's walk. Instead of wearing my lovely 2/4 length, camel colored coat, I wore my windbreaker on top of a t-shirt. What a difference -- I no longer felt encumbered!

These pictures are taken at the foot of the Queensboro Bridge, on the Manhattan side. The Red Cross Disaster Relief van provided hot chocolate for all commuters during the strike and I believe they were at other bridges in the city as well. Too bad I can't take in chocolate and sweets! Dang.

These last two days in the office, I've been battling with my self-discipline in not eating an awesome chocolate cupacke from the Buttercup Bakeshop made available by a colleague who was given a half dozen yesterday. There were 3 remaining in a box he left behind in the office refrigerator at 9am this morning, untagged (When you don't put your initials on food in the office fridge it means that anyone can lay claim to the food. And trust me, the people in my office are not shy about eating and taking...ha!). And I must admit, my resolve broke down by 10 am and I ran to the refrigerator and found that all the cupcakes were gone! The person who took the last cupcaked didn't even have the courtesy to toss the box from the fridge (no home training, seriously)! So I walked away and just helped myself to some water. Bah! Now, I've been jonesing for one of their red devil cupcakes. Ugh. I can't take it!!! Sooooo good!!

By the time I left the office at 3:45, the strike was declared over and transit workers were returning to work. By late this evening, I heard the usual rumble of the N or W train by my apartment. It's a welcome sound.

Transit Strike Day #2

So I decided to go the office today. Otherwise, for every day I not come into work will be counted as a vacation day. And you know how precious my vacation days are to me! I thought it would also be a neat adventure. I'm a native of Queens but never walked across the Queensboro (not as pretty as walking across the Brooklyn Bridge so one is not missing much, trust me) and I always toyed with the idea of walking to work or at least biking (when I finally own a bike) so I took the strike as an opportunity to experience something new, walk with my fellow borough folks to work, and take pictures in the meantime. At least I would have some sort of intersting answer when people will ask me years later what I did in the 2005 subway strike. I also wanted to see what Manhattan looked like too. And the only way I was going to find out was to walk there.

To the right is a (dark) shot as I began the trek onto the Queensboro. The next pic is of the East River and Roosevelt Island, a residential area which sits right in the middle of the River. Manhattan is behind the buildings in the forefront.

Anyway, the walk door-to-door is a mere 3.3 miles. That's nothing! My thrice weekly power walks in Central Park (which I've not done in weeks!) were 4 miles on uneven terrain so walking across the Queensboro Bridge should be a piece of cake. And I'm happy to admit that it was! Subway or no subway, I left at my usual time at 8:45am and the entire walk took 45 minutes. My bosses were just pleased that I could make it and didn't care if I was late.

Thank goodness for those fitness walks! It was great to zip past pedestrians and even those on bikes who had difficulty peddaling uphill on the bridge. It was also really interesting to see cars filled to capacity since a car was not allowed into the city with 4 passengers or less. I had several offers for a ride since drivers were desperate to get into the city and picked up pedestrians for free. See this NY Times article about how strangers are thrown together in cars. Although it would've been interesting to get into a car with total strangers and feel completely safe, my commute was so short that I would find myself jumping out of the car once I got past the pleasantries. Anyway, I wanted to get back into the swing of power walking and doing 6.6 miles a day would prepare my body for all the food I would be eating for Christmas and New Year! I felt in tip-top shape although this morning I wore my nice camel coat. Tomorrow, I think I'll wear my windbreaker since I arrived in the office sweating like a pig!!

Changed out of my sweaty t-shirt and windpants into a something a little more acceptable for the office although it was still on the casual side. Half of my colleagues who made it all wore sneakers, including myself. With a shortened day, I worked what I could and left before it got dark at 3:45. Although I knew I would be perfectly fine, I still did not want to walk through the industrial parts of Long Island City in the dark. The area is just a bunch of big, somewhat desolate and dimly lit sidewalks with warehouses.



Above is a shot of the line for the Q60 bus, a line owned by a private bus company, that runs between Queens and Manhattan. The line ran the lenghth of entire city block and wrapped around two more corners. Madness! I thought of taking the bus back home but when I saw this line, I realized that it would be faster for me to walk than wait. To the left, a detail of the Queensboro reflecting the light from sunset. Below, the UN building with the sun setting behind it.

Since I needed to leave early, I couldn't find the time to leave the office and walk to Madison and Fifth Avenues. These two avenues were designated for emergency vehicles and not open to other vehicles. It was virtually empty and many people took advantage of walking down a usually busy street. Unfortunately, I was not one of them. No worries. I walked down an empty Fifth Avenue once, immediately after the Saint Patrick's Day parade before the avenue opened up to traffic.

I'm not miffed about the strike at all. The entirely new adventure into the city was well worth it. And isn't this what life's about? New opportunities and experiences?

Trees & Gates

A Gates Trio

Reflection of the Gates