Emily's May Inspiration "There Goes The Hood"

It was more than a restaurant, it was a symbol. And in the past decade, the last man standing in a sea of homogeny brought on by outsiders visiting the East Village on the weekends; dabbling in the hip, artistic, and edgy. Fact is MAMA'S was the neighborhood. At ten dollars a plate with a choice of meat and three sides, MAMA's was the spot you went for down home comfort. Nestled on 3rd St btw A & B, I walked past this soul food spot daily back in the nineties, sometimes stopping in just for a side of mash potatoes when the city got rough. They had the best veggies too, and if you didn't want meat you could get an extra side with their mac and cheese rivaling no other.

I encourage my yoga students to embrace change, to accept the only constant in our lives is just that. But as my old street in Alphabet City morphs into more and more sameness - that chain store, homogenized look that plagues our country - I have to cry out, 'Why this hood!?' Why the spot where artists flocked to so they could be different and accepted? With the fortune tellers, druggies, and performance artists singing their tunes, graffiti walls and dive bars that embrace all kinds... Why must the demographic who desires sameness, who feels more comfortable in an OLIVE GARDEN than an authentic Italian dive invade the one place on the planet where we screwed the Man?

Those who infest the East Village on the weekends are in no way supporting the community and those who inhabit it. They leave and go back to their commutes and cubicles, and tell stories about how they had a 'crazy' weekend in the village. We lived there, many old-schoolers still do. It's our home, and place's like MAMA'S, or the old KING'S PHARMACY replaced by a DUANE READE were our pride, our joy and choice to remain original, authentic to ourselves. Most moved to the East Village against their society's wishes. To a far away land where parentals did not understand paying a thousand dollars a month for a shoebox apartment on Ave C, but we did and sacrificed to be there. The natives know the secret to Alphabet City is its character, its funkiness, and constant groove we so adore. With the closing of MAMA'S, I dare say...there goes the hood.

PEACE,

Archived Inspirations

on Holidays

FREEDOM HIKE

FREEDOM HIKE

This has become the summer of hiking.

Having recently moved near some of the best trails in the country my hikes are filled with amazing desert flowers, hidden and powerful waterfalls, and elevations that show you the world.

My mother laughs at me because she used to drag me hiking in the mountains of Arizona at the age of three where predictably half way up I would dramatically proclaim, "I hate hiking!" Twenty seven years later I'm hiking like mad in New Mexico unconcerned with how late I've stayed up the night before.

I must first credit Los Angeles for my expanded interest. I lived near Griffith Park for three years and it was my saving grace in the midst of traffic and stifled air. It was what I loved most about the City of Angels…that up on the mountain, people's faces were softened, and everyone whether they knew it or not, was in a state of meditation. The roads looked smaller from up there and less traveled by. The hawks reminding you 'it's all good'. My soul sister Steph and I talked for hours while we hiked. Life, relationships, work~ you name it, Griffith Park knows all our secrets.

So transitioning into the hikes of Santa Fe and surrounding areas has been easy, well almost…I'm now at an elevation of 7,000 feet on any given day, and when hiking up near the ski basin I'm as high as 12,000! Breathing deeply is essential, but the clean mountain air helps you along and the feeling of accomplishment as you reach these great heights is inspiring.

We've hiked in groups of eight or more~ three, four hours at a time. One of my favorites, Rio en Medio, 'the river in the middle', is a hike where you are blessed by numerous waterfalls all along the way; a poor Spanish village half hour out of town that holds some of the most amazing views. Conversation on the mountain is nothing but real. Cut off from the daily grind and stress, the repetitive motion of one step after another sheds us down to our true selves where we can be free. Occasional stops for trail mix or bars become necessary and chocolate at that height is euphoria.

Often, I go by myself frequenting the Atalaya trail near St. John's College just minutes out of town. A hike of solitude can be incredibly healing, hiking until the mind stops its chattering and experiencing such grand silence you'd forgotten it was possible.

There's a whole slew of outdoors people here and new trails to be discovered. A new life for this city girl, but the freedom we are reminded of around this time of year speaks more loudly from these mountains…like all the wars and getting ahead below is so silly. This must have been how the Gods felt, able to see from such a larger perspective the insignificance of it all.

Our country's ego is destroying us, our disregard for land appalling, and our addiction to fear frightening. But from up there all you can see is beauty~ America, land of the free.

…and somehow it feels like it will all be o.k.

To independence,