Author Archives: TheRealTamara

For an opinionated woman such as I, blogging is an excellent outlet. This is one of many fori that I use to bloviate. Enjoy! Comment on my commentary.

Tradition

What’s a cultural tradition from your country that you love?

Have I mentioned my pursuit of my mother tongue? That I missed being able to retrieve the language I once knew.

In America in 1956 in “native dress.”

This is not to suggest that I am not at home in New York with English as my language of choice.

I just want to be able to speak Serbo -Croatian.

To communicate at least as well as the Stranci who have moved to live in Serbia.

The foreigners who chose a village in Serbia over Rio or Sydney didn’t make their decision lightly.

They did it because of the cultural traditions they found there.

They found more community, a life that was slower and a place where connection truly mattered.

They enjoyed the lifestyle, the pace and being invited to coffee.

Most of them also stayed because they found love in Serbia.

They identify self-sufficiency as a stand-in for selfishness. It is an idol that leads to self-centeredness.

Cultural traditions that transform life to living the life. I look from afar with envy and the regrets of being plucked into a diaspora.

My American life, fully assimilated, is experiencing a split personality, feet in two cultures. Am I having a  late- life crisis? Or just reconnecting with my origin story?

Golden times

Magical

Batcheller Mansion in Saratoga Springs lends a phantasmagoric touch to the skyline. The Saratoga skyline, I might point out, is no taller than the four storey line. The minaret meets this skybound boundary.

The interesting building was designed by Albany architects, Nicols and Halcott, in 1873. Its Victorian and eccentric details are preserved by the nine room b-and-b standing on Circular Drive.

No, not him…

Which author would you love to have dinner with?

Dostoyevsky popped to mind, but of course, I haven’t any intention of dining with him.

My truth, folks, I have never even cracked open one of the old boy’s books. Not the intellectual I claim to be. Sorry.

Shall I answer your question? I do admire and envy many of the many writers whose works I read. Some are contemporaries and I suppose a dinner would not be impossible.

Now, it’s a party.

Where to dine?

In Norma’s backyard dining room

I was introduced to Norma by my dear friend M. We went for a girl group luncheon with S one day. Since then, my friend I, who also lives in its environs, enjoyed a meal there as well.

Last night, after Carol drove me to see her friend Ron on the jazz trumpet uptown, she drove down Park Ave to show me the sculptures the local Park Ave supporters put up. Where to dine?

Norma. Caponata and carciofi, divine.

227 Abolitionist Place

The door to freedom

American history has for years been bifurcated by guilt and racism or by racism or guilt. That, at least, is my theory of the moment, well not this moment in which racism takes the lead.

We read history from books that deny the existence of people of color. Of course, they, the people of color, know that history and we are grateful that they share it with us.

The Friends of Abolitionist Place put together a Matriarchs print workshop at Poster House.

We learned about 227 Duffield Place, a house at which the Underground Railroad stopped, landmarked and saved from being swept up by eminent domain by Mama Joy Chatel.

The poster designs

Her legacy is carried on, and Duffield is co-named Abolitionist Place.

The printing of the posters we had designed in community was undertaken by Leslie Diuguid of Du-Good Press.com.

Learn more about 227 Abolitionist Place at abolitionistplace.org.

Take advantage of the First Fridays at Poster House by checking into their website.