She's growing fast.

Soon she'll be talking and telling us stories. (let me know if you can't view the movies. Tell me what type of computer you are using, Mac or PC, and what browser)


Sofi laughs as daddy hits her buddy Miles with a pillow. She has the evil streak in her.. just like her daddy.



This is Sofi's new friend Annie from Warwick. The had a little hand holding session that was really cute.

Drawing

Drew this one a few weeks ago.. just finally got around to scanning it. I think it captures something of Sofi here.
Short on time, so I'll lay off the words this morning. There's a dusting of snow out every window.. it's around 30 degrees farenheit.. the car windows wouldn't open due to ice. The cats might be totally frozen out there. Then again, the little killers are probably busy tracking something down for the kill. They usually bring home something new every other day or so, rabbits, squirrels, mice, birds of all sizes, chipmunks too. I'm waiting for the day when I open the front door to get the mail and I see one of the neighbors kids on our doorstep that Cassius or Francis dragged over. Or a snowman. You pick.

The Secret to Getting What You Want

Just yesterday Sofi used her hand to reach out and hit something and, after seeing what the result was, she did it a few times after that with big smiles. For some of you reading this it might not seem like a big deal. But for Dana and I it is a crucial step for Sofia on the path of development that is cause for celebration––and yes, a bit of bragging.

When we are infants we are whole (notice I said 'we' as it's easy to detach from our own beginnings and only recently am I making the connection myself). We are at unity with the world and everything in it, our sense of self is no different from our sense of 'other' or 'else.' For infants, everything is happening to them. Light, sound, touch, a car driving by, a plane over head. It is quite the opposite of the way we experience the world as adults with our world diced up and arranged into neat categories with value judements attached to each one like product descriptions in a mail order catalog. According to many philosophers and theologians, my favorite Alan Watts our problems are rooted in the misperception that we are separate from our environment, that there is a 'me' and an 'everything else' category.

But back to the thread of this posting, before I go into orbit. Watching Sofi focus intently on something dangling before her (one of those plush mobiles) has been an enlightening experience for us. In order for her to finally reach out to touch the thing, days and days of preparation needed to have taken place. She began with simply becoming aware that there is, in fact, a thing hanging in front of her face. Next, after mulling this over for a while, realized that she too can touch this thing to make it move like we do. Major problem: she doesn't realize she has the use of her arms. Until this point she's been on autopilot, 'flying the invisible stunt kite," as if she was controlling two strings, one in each hand making it twist and dive above her.

So we keep an eye on her as she focuses all her powers of concentration on this one object hanging before her. So intense a moment that she begins to bubble at the mouth, her tongue darting in and out, a sign of things to come (so many kids use their tongue to guide their hands when doing things like coloring and drawing... I used to use my tongue on road trips when I was a boy to skip over the cracks in the highway.. when one came close to the front of the car.. I'd snap my tongue to the roof of my mouth and when I sensed we'd made it over.. tongue would drop back down) So a few days of this intense focusing on the hanging stuffed elephant and suddenly her left arm responds to the desire to reach out and touch it. I wouldn't call it control, but there's no doubt that she hit this thing a few times, smiling after each turn, aware that she had made a giant step.

Now, of course I don't write about any old thing. You're thinking: "What's the lesson here, Tommy Boy?" (To be honest with myself, I have to admit that no one is asking that and it's only me.... so be it.)

What I learned from watching this play out is that in life, you cannot achieve something if you do not truly and whole-heartedly desire it. Some of us complain over and over: "I don't know why I didn't get that job," or "I wanted to go to Europe, but I just never really had the money," or "I wanted to go to the moon with the Apollo, but there were no more seats available." But––and it's taken me until thirty-one years of age to truly absorb this–– they didn't want it bad enough. Simple. I want to play music, make an album, play shows all over the world, be interviewed on radio shows... but how bad do I want it?
It's something to think about, for all of us. How bad do you want to touch the dream that is dangling before your face like a carrot on a string? If the answer is "With all my heart and soul, Tom" then god bless you, go out and grab it before it's too late.

I'm right behind you.

Two Month Mile Marker

We passed the two month mark and I can't get over how much she's changed in such a short while. Sofi now has an awareness of her surroundings and is beginning to notice her hands. It's hysterical to watch her as she follows her own hand as if it were not connected to her body thinking "what the heck was that?" She melts our hearts all day and night with her attempts at making sounds as she discovers her little voice. It's only a matter of time before she's yapping away, making up stories of her own.

1 Month Mile-Marker

Yesterday our little Sofi hit the one month mile marker. That's thirty little days in this world that a majority of us take for granted, due to our various routines that we all inevitably end up in––notwithstanding the strong of heart and mind who refuse to get sucked into the whirlpool of the rat race. But, like parenthood, it's all about sriking a balance. A balance between home life and work life; between sleep and wakefulness; between our youth and our adulthood; between selfishness and magnanimity; between the without and the within.

Watching Sofia change so rapidly before our eyes forces me to consider the changes that I too am most likely going through, that Dana is going through––or rather changes that are taking shape in us, rather than us going through them. As Sofi's facial features become more defined from the generic mask of infancy she wore when she arrived, I notice things about myself that no one else can see that are becoming more defined, things like my sense of self, and sense of a greater force that holds everything together with invisible thread. While Sofia's little body is aclimating itself to life on earth as a human being for the first time, Dana and I are adjusting our minds and spirits to life on earth as complete human beings, and even for a life beyond the horizon of our powerful yet limited view of what it means to be alive.

Parenthood is a religion unto itself. No saints. No prophets (although it can be argued that each child is prophet sent to re-teach us how to love unconditionally) No mantras, creeds, no punishments. Only lessons. Only experiences. Parenthood is the great democracy, for there is no monarch on a throne. Each house is it's own kingdom. Each it's own judicial system. Each set of parents playing God, creating life, guiding and shaping life, all with the innate knowledge imprinted in the very fibre of our composition. Boil the ages down, and this is all there ever was, or ever will be. For every king comes from a woman and a man. Every soldier comes from a woman and a man. Every woman comes from a woman and a man. Every great revolutionary invention found it's birth by a woman and a man at some finite point in history, coming together––even if for a moment–– like hydrogen and oxygen to form something new, something bigger than themselves. Water where there was only air. Life where there was none before.

I can't help but think how, most things in life that we posess need to be purchesed, borrowed, taken or found. If one wants something from far away, it must be shipped to one's door. But a child. It comes from far away, for sure, but it comes from within. At one moment, there are two living in a house. A moment later... three. There need not be another soul in the house––although it's recommended to have a qualified individual.. say.. a Doctor or Doula––for a new life to be.

That is the miracle.

Look-a-likes

Who do you think she looks more like? Post your comment!

Heartbreaking...

Sofi likes to scratch her face.. so she needs to wear these mittens. We're heading out the door.. just wanted to get this pic up on the page.

Time-lapse Living

Watching Sofi's face change reminds me of time-lapse film footage of weather patterns, or of a building coming together––while our lives have virtually stopped, the hands on our clocks reluctant to move to their next tickmark, our little beauty is transforming at an incredible pace. Her head is taking shape, no longer cone-shaped, time is now bringing her tiny features into contrast, hinting at the beautiful woman she will someday be.

Here's a link to a photo album that will be updated regularly...

http://www.nyclabs.com/blog/sofi/sofi.html

E-motion Pictures

Here's some video clips of little Sofi's first day.

Let the days of one-handed typing begin!

Wow. For fear of not doing justice to the miracle of life, I am not going to write much (yet). But for now, meet our little Sofia (sofi) born Friday, September 23, 2005 to two of the happiest people in the world. Thank you Dr. Solomon, you were amazing... and thank you Tami for being a tireless, supportive guide for Dana. It takes a long time to write with a little package in one arm––you weren't kidding Paul!

She's gone into labor!

Been timing contractions since 1:30am... it's 5:45am now... we're about
4-5 minutes betw contractions.... this looks like it!
We'll let everyone know when it's for sure...

As you can see...I'm not nervous at all.

I've got it all under control. We went to our doctor yesterday and after poking around, she informed us that Dana has begun to dilate 1.5 cm so far. It's beginning, and I repeat... I am not nervous, despite what the photo might imply. It's really starting to happen and I've got butterflies in my stomach like you wouldn't believe. We're hoping it's tonight. But it could be Saturday, or Sunday... man I can't stand this waiting anymore. We'll let everyone know what's going on for sure.

Lomo-tastic!

Just found this sweet plastic camera Dana got as a gift from her old teaching job. It takes 4 pictures in the space of a second, at slightly different angles.. it's the coolest thing. We were sure the baby was going to come yesterday... I'm working from home for a while to be safe.

The Closet is finally finished!

All our hard work is finally visible. Our little baby is going to be so impressed with the work we put into his/her room that they'll be speechless, probably for the first year or so.

Here's D, working hard. And no... she's not using polyeurethane, it's linseed oil. The vapors aren't harmful, and it reminds me of art school. We didn't want to use varnish in the baby room due to the fumes it would give off.



And here's a shot of the final piece. Can you find Dana in the picture? Hint... she's the one hiding in the closet.

Almost There

In a rush, so not much time to write. We're off to a Doctors appointment.. but here's a photo from this morning of the belly...

The musical talent that runs in this family... my god.

Well. Before the little one is even born, he/she is learning the classics, like this one here from Nana May (soon to be, that is)

And here's a clip of the future Nana, Aunt April, and Aunt Keri.. being themselves like no one else can... be.. them.. huh?

Sudden rain, and other things.

Things are quited down for the moment But, like the sudden rain last night, so might life suddenly rain down upon us with unexpected drops of experience. Rain. There's a lot to learn about the world little one. The cycles, the hours. The cleansing power of rain. Things you can learn in books, and others you learn from looking around.

But this wait is almost unbearable. The due date we were given is September 21st, but most of our friends who have had children lately have had them come as early as three weeks before the due date. So, by those standards, our little one may very well be here anytime from next week to a month from now.

Friday night it actually hit me that Dana is actually going to have a baby soon. Don't ask me where I've been this whole time. Most likely in my head––the control room with all my experiences on giant display screens, like NASA command control, the Batcave. Events and people all kept in discreet files; faxes and memos flowing in a constant stream, connections being made every day. But the commander-in-chief of my control room must have made an executive decision to leak this news slowly, for fear of system upheaval––or even better still, mass hysteria. But when the last bit of news finally had sunken in , I felt happier than I'd ever felt before. A pure strand of joy––hydroponic hippie joy, if you will––filled my body. The kind that, if bottled, Timothy Leary would have been lecturing about. So it suddenly dawned on me... this is my life. It's happening. It's here. It's now. And I love it. All of it.

Only a man would think of this one

Oh, and that man that would think of this, would also need to be a huge NASCAR fan....

and probably have a sweet moustache...

and four cars on his property that are covered by a tarp.

Almost an Ima (that's Mom in Hebrew)

Look how beautiful Danush is. I mean, how damned cute is this? It's heartbreaking. Sleep is becoming more and more difficult as I'm running out of room on the bed ;) But seriously, for Dana, it's getting tough with the baby moving so much, the extra strain on her back and the swelling in her legs and feet.

At our friends house this weekend, we had the ring on a string gender test done. Tie the wedding ring on a string.. hang it over the belly and wait. If the ring begins to create a circlular looping pattern––Girl. If it swings like a pendulum, back and forth––boy. Well, according to this test, it's going to be a hypnotist... or a jeweler. It did swing back/forth like a pendulum though. Hmmmm.

No baby was hurt during the filming of this clip

OK. This is pretty clever.

It's not Dana––so don't get all excited and start hungering for autographs!... (But we're going to try it for sure)

Koby and Michal sent this one from Israel. (along with a million other clips ;)

Man, what a complainer I am...

Hello little one. All this noice, and not one word about what your mother is going through. Here I am, trapped in my head as usual, finding some way to categorize and organize what's happening here into neat digestible chunks, while your mom is carrying you inside her belly. I've got a few things on my mind related to your coming so soon, but your mother... in addition to things on her mind.. she's got a thing inside her belly that is growing and kicking all day long. Man... I'm such a complainer. There are days––almost full days––when I don't think about the pregnancy, and that is my privelege being a man. Dana (your Ima) cannot go a full minute without you on her mind. And that is her privelege as a woman. A feeling that I will never experience. Such a full sense of the pregnancy she must have. Sometimes I come home and find myself a bit giddy with surprise––Oh yeah, duh! That's our little baby in there squirming around. He or she will look just like us, and ask us millions of unanswerable questions (that I will, of course, give any old answer to for fear of being percieved as an idiot)

So your mother (your Ima), she's a strong woman. She's resilient She doesn't stop moving. Even when the look of pain and discomfort have clouded her face, she won't let anyone know what she's going through. She hates to complain, but at this point, she has every right to. If it were me, forget it. There wouldn't be a person in a ten mile radius that wouldn't know how uncomfortable I was.

So, little one. Wee one. Give your mother a break when you come out, OK? She's been working hard on you, making sure you come out the way nature intends you to. She can't even have coffee, or a glass of wine! Do you have any idea how this can affect an adult??? Well.. you'll find out when we start weaning you off breastmilk. Touche!

First post from my email account

Now that i've got this new found ability to post to the blog here from my email... expect to see more frequent postings. It's been a hard two weeks with this new gig I've been working on... crazy hours.. not much time for personal life. But it times out nicely with the birth of our little one. Should have at least 2 weeks to bask in the glow of parenthood (and sleep an hour and a half per night)

This photo was taken by my friend Patrick Winfield... there's something so serene about this, but with a tinge of violence that captivates me. If you want to tell Pat how sweet his photo is email him: patrick@10e20.com

The 'Outside' Report

This is the first time I am addressing you, my unborn child, directly in any form. So remember this. Hopefully, by the time you are able to read, and hopefully appreciate subtle humor–and perhaps a bit of irony here and there–computers will still be around and will not have been replaced by some new form of technology that will be incomprehensible to us 'old folks' who triumphantly struggled through the days of meager Dual 2.5 ghz power macs. Ha! your generation will laugh at us when we talk about these days, much in the same way we chuckle incredulously when the old folks haunting this joint talk about a time before television, when people sat around and stared at a radio(that also functional as furniture) So... after this brief intro to me, your father and his temperament, let me continue by describing the physical surroundings of where you are about to begin your childhood.

A yellow school bus has just passed on the next street down 'Centre Street." We live in Upper Nyack, NY now in a small cozy California ranch. I am sitting on our deck made of wood from a Cedar tree, which is quite sought after because of its natural immunity to weather and insects, and even more for the way it changes from the brutal sun so gracefully growing a silvery patina. It is unforgettably cedar, with its delicious scent–unmistakably cedar. It always reminds me of Nana and Papa's cedar closet in their 6 wayne avenue home, the home your aunts and I grew up in. It was a magical place where April and I would play hide and seek, a place of mystery packed in small boxes. A hanging museum of outfits from Nana and Papa's past lives, before April and I were even a tugging at the back of their minds. A time when it was simple May and Tom Daly––he in his soldiers uniform and she in her leg cast from a ski accident from Hunter Mountain, before the first snow board was inented. Relics from a time when life happened in a series of square images glued in a book, covered in plastic like so many couches in my childhood memories.

A minyan of tall proud trees surrounds me now as I write. Locusts are rattling in the tree tops marking the sacred boundary where earth passes the baton to the sky in the race toward the edge of time. Here we are, little one we do not know yet, but who we will soon love like no one else alive. Fate has chosen the three of us to spend a little time together here on this beautiful sphere filled with so many different creatures. A bluejay has just hopped from one branch to another. And now another. Before me, a line of trees stands in front of a backdrop of morning sun. A great opening can be felt, the Hudson River valley, not more than a quarter mile from here; a gouge in the earth created by a glacier, brimming with history and progress. Battles and brick yards, sailors and ship yards, and simple folk making a living. Ema is down at the Art Cafe which is a small oasis in Nyack, built from nowhere by Safta Dita. She is amazing, with her vision and the drive to realize that vision. May you inherit all the best traits from all your ancestors, those you will come to know as well as you know yourslef, most often better than that, for they will know you better than you know yourself, for they will be able to see themselves in the corner of your smile, or the wrinkle of your brow, and will suddenly realize all that has passed, and all that will come again.

Waiting patiently (without fingernails)

Daddy

The Best Swimming Lake in the World

Me, D and Nat (and Sabra) drove up to New Paltz and hiked to Lake Awosting (3.2 mi), swam a bit in this beautiful, pristine mountain lake. It was tough on D, with the little tike weighing her down, plus the heat was intense––95º humid. This is our favorite place to hike to, and we'll be trekking here with the little one for sure.

NASA

We went on a tour of the birthing center at Good Samaritan Hospital in Suffern this past Sunday, and I couldn't help but think about the good old U.S. Space Program. Probably the second most important detail in planning space flight––the first being reaching outerspace––is where in hell is this giant heap of metal and flesh going land after re-entry into our atmosphere. So I felt like a NASA location scout walking the halls of the landing area of our child, busy preparing for its climactic entry from the inner space of the Dana galaxy into the outerspace of life here on earth. It really hit me that I am going to be a father, seeing the nursery filled with little people (being manhandled by the nursing staff), and the room that we'll bring our spaceship down to a safe warm landing to the anticipating eyes and arms of its new family. Seeing the various computer screens in each room with all their wires snaking through the walls to the NASA command center, where nurses sip thier coffee while monitoring the inner space atmosphere radar screens. Boop. Boop. Beep. Boop. Incoming. There's a window opening in the atmosphere, take your opportunity now pilot! Fire all thrusters!

Then last night in our birthing class we watched a video of a water birth that took place in a Mexican home, the mother was also a mid-wife who chose to deliver her baby herself, away from the boops and bleeps of the NASA birthing center. And she did it! We watched as her baby popped out and slowly floated to the surface of the water, was lifted out, and took her first breath, not a computer monitor within a mile of the scene. So, there were the Wright Brothers and their contraption; and now there's the space shuttle.

Well, lost my train of thought. Have a busy day ahead of me. Here's a pic of our little astronaut in it's spaceship, working the controls.

Twins! um.... sort of.

That's right. Twins. While there's a baby growing inside D's belly, there's another baby growing in the downstairs of our house––the studio. Over the weekend, Ronen and I made huge progress with it, laying down remnant carpet tiles ($50 for the whole area.. I probably got ripped off, I know) setting up the G5 dual 2gig and the Yamaha mixing board... to the right we built a rack unit for the outboard effects and mic preamp. The sound booth, or "the womb" as I like to call it now has a solid maple door that makes a pretty tight seal. On the other side of the wall behind the recording console is the performance area where we have a drum kit, an upright piano, a bunch of guitars, banjo, mandolin, violin, and various percussive intstruments. All the cables from microphones and instruments are sent through the wall into the mixing board. We're also going to create a video window, setting up a DVcam in the performance room, and sending the feed to a monitor in the control room (pictured here) so Ronen can see what's going on in there. It'll be awesome. So check it out.. pretty soon we'll begin recording my songs, recording other peoples songs, making a sweet demo.. who knows.. maybe I'll have some vinyl albums pressed along with the CD's.


Click it for a bigger view. It's a panoramic made up of six shots crudely pieced together, hence the crazy perspective.

Worlds Largest Eggs

Believe it or not.. from this doorway comes the worlds largest eggs. Truly bizarre. Truly untrue.



And also, this madman is making his own bio diesel fuel from discarded vegetable oil (from fry machines) right before our eyes. We went on a tour of solar and clean energy homes/businesses this weekend in Connecticut, and witnessed some truly inspiring things, this being the most inspiring. Flemig Farms in CT. All the diesel vehicles on the farm run on homemade fuel, that leaves no harmful byproducts... no carbon monoxide, just carbon DI oxide.. which the trees and plants love. Amazing.
Oh, also, any diesel engine can run perfectly on this bio diesel, no modification necessary. I didn't believe it until I saw it first hand.

Quote of Quotes

I recently heard legendary folk/gospel/spiritual singer Odetta share this quote in a live radio broadcast, but missed it when she named its author, and since then I've been trying to paraphrase it and really let it sink in because it's perfece––i think. The other day our new friend Maria sent D an email with the exact quote and it turns out that it was first spoken by none other than Nelson Mandela. Here goes:

"We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who
are you not to be? You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people will not feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us. It is not just in some of us;
it is in everyone. And as we let our own Light
shine, we unconsciously give other people to
do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others:

-Nelson Mandela at his inaugural address as president of Sout Africa 1994


Well said, man.

Traded a pencil for a camera.

Yep. You know it. I'm starting to catch up to technology. Next will be GPS navigation installed into every dollar that I make to find out where it goes.

We're at almost 23 weeks now. Belly's getting big––or Dana's shrinking and her belly's staying the same size––can't quite tell.
I felt out little flipper moving around inside last night...probably doing some pushups or something. or dancing. kind of feel like it's a boy. But it's okay if boys dance... as long as there's no tutu involved.

Here's some photos.



Oh.. and.. men feel it too.. despite what you may have heard.

The shape of things to come....

While we were down in D.C., before sleeping one night I had my hand on D's belly and––for the first time––I felt our baby moving. It felt like a flutter, almost like a fish quickly swimming by. How strange. Here's a new set of sonogram pics from this mornings visit. The baby was waving to us.. and chewing on it's hands... oh man.. I thought...the kids already got anxiety... just like his parents. (click on an image to see the large version)

We're at 5 months (20 wks) and the baby weights 11 oz... almost a pound... under half a kilo. The due date has been changed to Sept. 17... a bit earlier. D is feeling energetic, and the baby's head is in breach position right now, so D is feeling nauseous now and then because the baby's head is higher up in her womb...

The latest sketches...

I think this one really captures the essence of D––although I understated the size of her belly... in reality it's a bit bigger... very sexy.





And this one is more true to the actual size of her belly

Plans. Dreams. Still possible?

We all have dreams, don't we? Some have blue-sky dreams, others humble-pie––no matter their scope, we all have them. The age of thirty had always loomed in my mind as a measuring stick by which I'd measure my success in life––or lack thereof. Thirty has come and gone, but now a new life gauge has toe'd itself up to the line––parenthood. Age is unavoidable. Having a child is––for the most part–– pure choice. Now that I've crossed through that doorway I find myself standing on the other side, looking around at my new surroundings and wondering––what does it mean?

I've always had this fantasy of spontaneous rock-stardom––you know the sort of fame I'm talking about––the one where the record label executive hears you humming one of your songs in the next stall of a public bathroom and––through the sheet metal divider––offers you a three record contract and you sign the papers on the tile floor––and when you walk out of the bathroom door, there's already a line-up of press with their flashing camera and microphones.

Unrealistic. Sure. But does it keep me going. Sure.

The point of all this is––suddenly I've realized that, in order to get what you want––you have to work hard to get it. And guess what? Someone hasn't been working that hard––and that same someone is expecting it all to magically fall into his lap.

Anyone have any words of wisdom out there?

Words of Wisdom

A new friend of mine offered this link to a beautiful article he wrote back in '01 when the world didn't seem like such a safe place anymore––for Americans anyway. Check it out... thanks for sharing it Matt!

Read The Article Here

Expansionist Theory

Every few weeks I'm going to sketch D and her belly to catch the subtle changes that a camera might not be able to see because it's a machine––and machines will never know what it means to love someone.

Little Black spot on the sun today

Couldn't help but sing that tune while looking at the screen in the doctors office.



After the appointment I was inspired to write this short poem:

Now that you are my burning star
Your day will be longer than mine.
But don't forget how––silent––
I saw you rise.

Second Dr. Appointment

Went today with Dana to Dr. Solomon's in suffern. She performed an ultra-sound for us to hear the babys heartbeat.
At first there was nothing but white noise––then suddenly a sound that was like the sound of a train coming toward us––only two miles away. Barely audible––but a heartbeat for sure, piggybacked on Dana's steady backbeat.

the first post

test posting