tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10813310223599297852024-03-13T07:45:08.235-04:00Transcriptions, Transitions of Time, Space and Consciousness.Wondering while I wander...enjoying the journey a long the way.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.comBlogger309125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-64275283924483213992011-05-10T14:42:00.003-04:002011-05-10T14:56:28.843-04:00Lance Drummonds Listening Party for Debut Album Time and Space @ Quad studios<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svLAT_pF8HM/TcmJonbqsVI/AAAAAAAABzE/no30B6Fh2eI/s1600/lance%2Bdrummonds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-svLAT_pF8HM/TcmJonbqsVI/AAAAAAAABzE/no30B6Fh2eI/s400/lance%2Bdrummonds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605162542112092498" /></a><br /><br />I had the distinct pleasure of hanging out at Quad Studios for the Time and Space listening party. <br /><br />Stepping off the elevator I was introduced to a classic production (which he wrote and produced himself) reminding of the 90's ballads I grew up on. The pages that created the album were torn from the chapters in his book love. We got to <a href="http://youtu.be/LzB8s-_dnjk">"Share His Heart"</a><br />and were blessed with a live performance of "The Opposite of No" showing the audience that he is more than just a studio performer.<br />I throughly enjoyed the album and his commitment to his success (investing everything he had into the project) so support my <a href="http://lancedrummonds.bandcamp.com/album/time-and-space">dude</a> the investment will be worth the time.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-27454901796714592902011-05-10T12:16:00.004-04:002011-05-10T14:41:53.945-04:00Back To The BeginningsIt's how some paths can bring you right back to where you started. I started this blog thinking I wanted to write about style and fashion my primary motivation for coming to NYC initially but like life intentions and plans change. <br /><br />I've been almost two years, experiencing new places, new experiences, new relationships, all of which I wish I would have documented but the past is gone never to return so I must live in the present. With that I have decided to dedicate this blog to my experiences, interests, and journey through the beautiful language of life. There will of course be style notes as it's very much a part of who I am, but you can also expect to be introduced to a new love (anthropology/sociology) and my old love affair with the literary word. <br /><br />I was once told that am an ambassador to those who have will never the places I go and to the people that I meet on these adventures who will never visit the places I've come from, and that is how I'm choosing to live my life. To dream for those who have been forced to "wake up", to live for those sentenced to a lifeless existence, love for those who are afraid to let the world see them for who they really are. <br /><br />Join me on the journey. <br /><br />LoveMichael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-23854962835369663852011-02-15T00:09:00.006-05:002011-02-15T00:24:34.413-05:00A Legend of LoveIn Honor of this day of "Love" I thought I would provide you with the legend of Cupid or "Eros" as he was known in the Greek. His name is the prefix of our word erotic, his mother Venus or "Aphrodite" provides the prefix for the word aphrodisiac, his lover Psyche is precisely where we derive our same word from, coming together they create bliss but I'll let you read the story to discover it's name for yourself. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E8yodFbPkac/TVoMbSLIZQI/AAAAAAAAByc/aVVpaaR6k-s/s1600/220px-Statua_di_Amore_e_Psiche.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 293px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-E8yodFbPkac/TVoMbSLIZQI/AAAAAAAAByc/aVVpaaR6k-s/s400/220px-Statua_di_Amore_e_Psiche.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573781151698937090" /></a><br /><br />Envious and jealous of the beauty of a mortal girl named Psyche, Venus asks her son Cupid (known to the Greeks as Eros) to use his golden arrows while Psyche sleeps, so that when she awakens, Venus (Aphrodite in the Greek tradition) would have already placed a vile creature for her to fall in love with. Cupid finally agrees to her commands after a long (and failed) debate. As he flies to Psyche's room at night, he turns himself invisible so no one can see him fly in through her window. He takes pity on her, for she was born too beautiful for her own safety. As he slowly approaches, careful not to make a sound, he readies one of his golden arrows. He leans over Psyche while she is asleep and before he can scratch her shoulder with the arrow, she awakens, startling him, for she looks right into his eyes, despite his invisibility. This causes him to scratch himself with his arrow, falling deeply in love with her. He cannot continue his mission, for every passing second he finds her more appealing. He reports back to Venus shortly after and the news enrages her. Venus places a curse on Psyche that keeps her from meeting a suitable husband, or any husband at that. As she does this, it upsets Cupid greatly, and he decides as long as the curse stays on Psyche, he will no longer shoot arrows, which will cause the temple of Venus to fall.<br /><br /><br /><br />After months of no one — man or animal — falling in love, marrying, or mating, the Earth starts to grow old, which causes concern to Venus, for nobody praises her for Cupid's actions. Finally, she agrees to listen to Cupid's demands, according him one thing to have his own way. Cupid desires Psyche. Venus, upset, agrees to his demands only if he begins work immediately. He accepts the offer and takes off, shooting his golden arrows as fast as he can, restoring everything to the way it should be. People again fall in love and marry, animals far and wide mate, and the Earth begins to look young once again.<br />When all continue to admire and praise Psyche's beauty, but none desire her as a wife, Psyche's parents consult an oracle, which tells them to leave Psyche on the nearest mountain, for her beauty is so great that she is not meant for (mortal) man. Terrified, they have no choice but to follow the oracle's instructions. But then Zephyrus, the west wind, carries Psyche away, to a fair valley and a magnificent palace where she is attended by invisible servants until nightfall, and in the darkness of night the promised bridegroom arrives and the marriage is consummated. Cupid visits her every night to sleep with her, but demands that she never light any lamps, since he does not want her to know who he is until the time is right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MpW3PttaDw4/TVoNgk-4FEI/AAAAAAAABy0/o7zzMCrcqeI/s1600/220px-L%2527Amour_et_Psych%25C3%25A9_%2528Picot%2529.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 159px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MpW3PttaDw4/TVoNgk-4FEI/AAAAAAAABy0/o7zzMCrcqeI/s400/220px-L%2527Amour_et_Psych%25C3%25A9_%2528Picot%2529.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573782342158783554" /></a><br /><br />Statue of Cupido and Psyche kissing, 2nd century AD. Room E of the House of Cupid and Psyche. Ostia Antica, Latium, Italy<br />Cupid allows Zephyrus to take Psyche back to her sisters and bring all three down to the palace during the day, but warns that Psyche should not listen to any argument that she should try to discover his true form. The two jealous sisters tell Psyche, then pregnant with Cupid's child, that rumor is that she had married a great and terrible serpent who would devour her and her unborn child when the time came for it to be fed. They urge Psyche to conceal a knife and oil lamp in the bedchamber, to wait till her husband is asleep, and then to light the lamp and slay him at once if it is as they said. Psyche sadly follows their advice. In the light of the lamp Psyche recognizes the fair form on the bed as the god Cupid himself. However, she accidentally pricks herself with one of his arrows, and is consumed with desire for her husband. She begins to kiss him, but as she does, a drop of oil falls from her lamp onto Cupid's shoulder and wakes him. He flies away, and she falls from the window to the ground, sick at heart.<br />Psyche then finds herself in the city where one of her jealous elder sisters live. She tells her what had happened, then tricks her sister into believing that Cupid has chosen her as a wife on the mountaintop. Psyche later meets her other sister and deceives her likewise. Each sister goes to the top of the peak and jumps down eagerly, but Zephyrus does not bear them and they fall to their deaths at the base of the mountain.<br />Psyche searches far and wide for her lover, finally stumbling into a temple where everything is in slovenly disarray. As Psyche is sorting and clearing the mess, Ceres (Demeter to the Greeks) appears, but refuses any help beyond advising Psyche that she must call directly on Venus, who caused all the problems in the first place. Psyche next calls on Juno in her temple, but Juno gives her the same advice. So Psyche finds a temple to Venus and enters it. Venus then orders Psyche to separate all the grains in a large basket of mixed kinds before nightfall. An ant takes pity on Psyche, and with its ant companions, separates the grains for her.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIKfy9PcRtE/TVoM-TwzrBI/AAAAAAAAByk/UzWadYmHAkk/s1600/220px-U%25C5%259Bpiona_Psyche.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 195px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIKfy9PcRtE/TVoM-TwzrBI/AAAAAAAAByk/UzWadYmHAkk/s400/220px-U%25C5%259Bpiona_Psyche.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573781753420819474" /></a><br /><br />Venus is outraged at her success and tells her to go to a field where golden sheep graze and to retrieve some golden wool. A river-god tells Psyche that the sheep are vicious and strong and will kill her, but if she waits until noontime, the sheep will go to the shade on the other side of the field and sleep; she can then pick the wool that sticks to the branches and bark of the trees. Venus next asks for water flowing from a cleft that is impossible for a mortal to attain and is also guarded by great serpents. This time an eagle performs the task for Psyche.<br /><br />Venus, furious at Psyche's survival, claims that the stress of caring for her son, made depressed and ill as a result of Psyche's lack of faith, has caused her to lose some of her beauty. Psyche is to go to the Underworld and ask the queen of the Underworld, Proserpina (Persephone to the Greeks), to place a bit of her beauty in a box that Venus had given to Psyche. Psyche decides that the quickest way to the Underworld is to throw herself off some high place and die, and so she climbs to the top of a tower. But the tower itself speaks to Psyche and tells her the route that will allow her to enter the Underworld alive and return again, as well as telling her how to get past Cerberus (by giving the three-headed dog a small cake); how to avoid other dangers on the way there and back; and most importantly, to eat nothing but coarse bread in the underworld, as eating anything else would trap her there forever. Psyche follows the orders precisely, rejecting all but bread while beneath the Earth.<br />However, once Psyche has left the Underworld, she decides to open the box and take a little bit of the beauty for herself. Inside, she can see no beauty; instead an infernal sleep arises from the box and overcomes her. Cupid (Eros), who had forgiven Psyche, flies to her, wipes the sleep from her face, puts it back in the box, and sends her back on her way. Then Cupid flies to Mount Olympus and begs Jupiter (Zeus) to aid them. Jupiter calls a full and formal council of the gods and declares that it is his will that Cupid marry Psyche. Jupiter then has Psyche fetched to Mount Olympus, and gives her a drink made from ambrosia, granting her immortality. Begrudgingly, Venus and Psyche forgive each other.<br />Psyche and Cupid have a daughter, called Voluptas (Hedone in Greek mythology), the goddess of "sensual pleasures", whose Latin name means "pleasure" or "bliss".Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-29065097662303130282011-02-08T11:22:00.003-05:002011-02-08T17:09:41.239-05:00Never Can Say GoodbyeI tried to stay away, but the lyrics of life require constant composition, and I am the orchestrator the maestro. So I have returned to the environment that fostered inspiration. <br /><br />If you've been following my <a href="http://thepoetryoflife.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> you know I've been presenting my poetry, Chronicles, and Late Night Liaisons which I will continue to do. However this site will now be a journal of sorts, a place to put my thoughts on a digital shelf, that I can pull inspiration from. Initially this was going to be all about fashion, however I've come to the realization that I'm not a fan of fashion, but rather a style savant, but too many folks are becoming sheep who have had the wool pulled over their eyes (literally)so any post you see involving clothing will have some artistic or creative element, however subtle, that speaks to the sartorial character of each individual. <br /><br />But for the most part this will give you insight into a piece of my thoughts and perspectives, until I have finished the transcription of my script I play that allows me to act out my part on the world stage.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-74520479734808244072010-07-20T11:28:00.000-04:002010-07-20T11:33:07.625-04:00Movement is necessaryLadies and gentlemen transition is what life is all about, growth development, and progression are what makes it beautiful for that reason I will no longer be writing on this blog. Partly because it was too hard to update and write here so I will be moving to Tumblr.com feel free to journey with me there at http://thepoetryoflife.tumblr.com/ I hope you have enjoyed these chapters as much as I have enjoyed transcribing them, it's now time to turn the pagae.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-90107876811172495952010-06-22T16:35:00.000-04:002010-07-20T11:26:43.538-04:00Letter's to my lover: What comes with me.First I would offer her my heart. A baseline that would coincide with each breath she takes, creating music that only the two of us would move to. She would hold the key to the door that only my Father and family have access to, and in it she would find the fullness of me, my insecurities and my limitless possibilities, my fears and the courage to face them, the malice and discontent I have received and the love and compassion I hope to return. She would hold my heart with the knowledge that she could scar it and with it me for life if handled improperly, or care for it in ways that cultivated a strong beat than ever experienced from those who once experienced me.<br /><br />Secondly she would be privileged to receive the privilege of a man, something seemingly scarce now days, strong enough to love and commit more than sweet words or good intentions. She would receive my focus, a ffocus on more than her figure or physical features, a focus on her habits, her movements, and her manner while marveling at God's work in creating such a wonderful and complex creature.<br /><br />Others often compliment words, but she would receive my tone, my voice, my pitch and as she inspired me my sentiment. Our interaction would be living breathing poetry, seamlessly transitioning between metaphor and simile, creating sonnets that inspired others to love again. Together we would create words that defied definition and speak in a language of motion and feelings, a language that would universally understood. <br /><br />Sensually she would receive fingertips caressing her gently in places and positions that I won't mention. A kiss that would leave time tired and she went to sleep we would creep past midnight into the hours of the dark, where one of our senses was no longer needed which would only heighten our others so that we experience bliss on an inexplicable level. We would not make love we would make harmony. At times quiet requiring no sounds but the inhalation of anticipation and exhaling pleasure as we descended into her depth until her well ran dry, while I filled once again with pleasurable moments.<br /><br />Lastly she would receive my appreciation because I would be the lucky one, for only a privileged few receive the wonderful gift that comes when you have a lady. I only offer the simple things and yet it's funny the simple things in life often bring us the most joy, while simultaneously baffling the masses. I guess that's the privilege of being my lady.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-50668574656790636872010-06-10T14:38:00.000-04:002010-06-10T15:57:37.751-04:00Thought of the DayWhy do we try so hard to impress those who have no interest in us, yet neglect those who are moved, inspired, and blessed by us simply being who we are? <br /><br />I would love to hear your thoughts.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-47807295839523732402010-05-10T05:34:00.000-04:002010-05-26T12:47:34.165-04:00Letters to My Love Her: My First Love-The First Time I KnewAfter our first encounter, I knew you would love me forever, that we would share something no one would understand but us, it was our connection, our bond, I was always on your mind, as I formed my thoughts about you, I became your heart, as my heartbeat grew stronger for you, and after much anticipation I was finally introduced to you, and these eyes had never seen anything more beautiful. How I was blessed to be with someone so wonderful was awing, and it was then I knew I was falling, for my first love.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-37430380788584817982010-05-09T08:06:00.000-04:002010-05-09T08:13:10.054-04:00How do you capture a dream?How do you capture a dream? <br /> Do you grab it? <br /> Do so too quickly and it slips through your hands. <br /> Do you embrace it? <br /> Squeeze to hard and you crush it. <br /> No dreams, like passion, must be catered to, <br /> taking time to cultivate each and every element, with unwavering attention, <br /> It must consume our entire being until as natural as breathing, <br /> inhaling the thought, and exhaling the manifestation, <br /> so that each moment becomes memorable, <br /> After all what is passion except a strong desire which moves us to act, <br /> And what are dreams At their core except things we desire,<br /> So don't just find your passion live it.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-22608190533617772882010-04-17T07:00:00.000-04:002010-04-17T07:57:32.158-04:00A New FlavorSo today was my first taste of salsa and I must say it was tasty. Full of flavor, spice, and passion. It's my hope that everyone knows I mean the dance and not the condiment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mhs3GReEI/AAAAAAAABxg/PGftupO99qg/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mhs3GReEI/AAAAAAAABxg/PGftupO99qg/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073815240013890" /></a><br /><br />My homie took to me La Pregunta, a small bar and cafe on 153rd and Amsterdam, for lessons. We arrived a little late and everyone was in line waiting to be paired up fellas on one side and ladies on the other. We quickly moved to the end of the line. The instructor explained that he would teach us the basic steps, we would then add music, then the ladies would rotate each time. We began three steps forward...5,6,7, three steps back...1,2,3. Then we added a turn and a spin and finished off with 5,6,7,1,2,3. Some of my partners were great teachers, others were beginners like me, and several tried to lead me (which was a humorous exchange) but after a few times I was moving pretty well. The lesson ended and we moved off of the dance floor to rest and the professional stepped on the floor. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mh1MnU-FI/AAAAAAAABxo/cidt5Dz0_hc/s1600/movement1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mh1MnU-FI/AAAAAAAABxo/cidt5Dz0_hc/s400/movement1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461073958454753362" /></a><br /><br />When you watch these two people interact with each other it's not hard to see the sexual innuendo presented by this exchange. The movement is sensual, man guiding woman, woman being guided by man and for four minutes two becoming one, moving together to create beautiful movement. Well idealistically. I seemed to fumble around trying to get the basics down. But give me a break it was my first time and we are all awkward the first time. ;) but with practice I'll be making a new flavor. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mh8YZ0VeI/AAAAAAAABxw/D6xu1yl_N8s/s1600/movement2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S8mh8YZ0VeI/AAAAAAAABxw/D6xu1yl_N8s/s400/movement2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461074081878398434" /></a><br /><br />PS The reason the pictures are blurry is because they capture movement.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-44733286302171058872010-04-13T03:57:00.000-04:002010-04-13T04:48:42.868-04:00A Pause for Prose: Shades over the SoulIt was a beautiful sunny day- fitting considering it Easter Sunday, and I was on my way to Brooklyn Flea Market. I looked up and my eyes encountered beautiful young lady stepping on the train; demur, feminine, and demanding attention, with shades on. I watched her and wondering what she was concentrating so hard on. She briefly looked at me or in my direction before she got off the train and I begin to wonder. <br /> <br />If the eyes are the windows to the soul why do we consistently cover them up? Are we then afraid of what others may see in us? Or are we afraid to show our souls to the world? It such a shame that we hide such a beautiful piece of ourselves from each other. Aside from the physical beauty of eyes, eye contact allows us to connect with each other in unspeakable ways. "At that moment when our eyes are locked in silent communication, we are, in essence, touching." -Debbie Bailey. Have we become so disconnected with others, and so self absorbed that we are afraid to touch someone with a pleasant look? <br /><br />Sure shades have their function but it seems like recently for most of us that function is to protect our looks our expressions and pieces of who we are. Interestingly enough we are willing to expose so much of ourselves today, but are unwilling to convey the thing that gives insight to who we really are. With our windows open who knows who may enter our souls.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-13170618908006602042010-03-26T06:02:00.000-04:002010-03-26T06:07:02.323-04:00Resolved I will be better…The other night a most unfortunate thing happened. I got drunk, well drunk is an understatement. I found myself waking up with a hangover but a more disturbing feeling of not remembering what happened at the end of the night. We have all had those moments I’m sure, lucky for me my brother (from another mother) was looking out for me and gave me the 411 on the evening’s activities. He informed me that I was very rude and disrespectful to a young lady, and if that wasn’t bad enough I didn’t remember the encounter. As the story goes she was a beautiful young woman who obviously wasn’t enamored with my inebriated charms and I snapped on her, which she didn’t deserve. She should have slapped me-I would have deserved it, but she constrained her self. This was followed by throwing up outside and being loud and obnoxious going into my apartment. And while some of it was funny it was unsettling to know I acted like an ass. <br /><br />Over the years I made the claim that I’m on a path to be refined and sophisticated so that I may be a pleasure to others while in their company. However these blunders often make me wonder if I will ever arrive at that destination. Wise enough to know my limits, courageous enough to step away from the indulgence when I have reached it, aware of the characters that they can conjure up. <br /><br />It’s been said that “final mystery is oneself” and on this journey I have realized that I have qualities unbecoming of the man I want to be. Yet we all seem afraid to confront the things that could give us the most liberation, the darkness that lurks within our souls awaiting the moments to rear its ugly head through our vanity or our vices, and seemingly diminishing our characters. But we must ”confront the dark parts of ourselves, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Our willingness to wrestle with our demons will cause our angels to sing…” <br /> <br />To the young lady I encountered I wish that I could apologize to you face to face, taking with it whatever verbal tongue lashing or worse that came with it. But this is my only forum with which I can offer my sincerest regret for my actions, intimidated by the allure of your femininity and charms, and filled with “liquid courage” I did not present myself as someone worth your time instead as a coward who couldn’t handle rejection. But as I continue to live, I continue to learn, and I evolve and resolve to do and become a better individual.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-9042177739906696982010-02-23T06:42:00.000-05:002010-02-23T06:44:28.097-05:00Here I am.Life is funny. We define ourselves by what we do thinking that our position makes us who we are-interestingly enough historically occupations did define our status and name in society that’s where many of our last names come from. Our perception often times seem skewed we are either complaining about our situation with no plans to change it, or we’re holding on so tightly to it that we think we will die if we lose it, when letting go could be the most liberating opportunity for us to really begin living. We forget about our fellow man or woman who have it much worse than we do. And rarely do we really appreciate the things we have. I was blessed to be educated in a conversation that I had with a young lady who was going through a storm in her life and had almost given up. I found myself encouraging her, yet simultaneously asking myself the last time I encouraged myself? Telling her she needed to speak life into her own situation, and asking myself when was the last time I gave myself affirmation? Telling her that her substance didn’t lie in possessions, but asking myself how much substance I was giving to the material things in my life? Our conversation inspired this prose and I’m truly thankful for her lesson and her blessings. <br />It’s quiet now, and the silence deafening. All I hear is my thoughts screaming accusations of all of my faults and shortcomings, all of my failures, all of my mistakes to me. I am only rescued by the sound of crying, I look to see who is there and only realize it’s me when I taste the salt from tears. It is so cold the winds of doubt and loneliness are blowing all around me I cry out for help but no one seems to answer. It is so dark that I can’t see what is in front me and so here I remain seemingly drowning the abyss of dispair. Lost in the recess of my perception. <br />My history is comprised of what they thought of me, because they think they know me. Hell they ought to they raised me and developed me teaching me what they thought would be important in life. But now it doesn’t seem to hold weight in this place. They told me “get good grades so you can get into a good school” so I did. They told me to “get a good job, a house, so you can find a mate” so I did. <br />The sun was shining on my life, then the clouds of trials began to roll in, and the rain of tribulation began to fall and the floods of stress and fear consumed me. I lost my job then my house, and nobody wanted me, so here I am, cold, destitute, and lonely. I am haunted by all of things that I was supposed to be, with the promise those accomplishments would bring the blossom of spring in my life but spring never came. I have lost everything but here I am. <br />Here I am.<br /> Here I am breathing, clothed, sheltered, and in my right mind, with all that I have lost I must never forget what I have gained. Here I am stronger with the knowledge that life’s hardships could not break or deter me. Here I am Here I am wiser understanding that those things they said I should have don’t mean anything if they don’t mean anything to me. Here I am finding my strength in my struggle. Fulfillment truly comes when there is balance. One cannot not truly appreciate pleasure without pain, cannot truly appreciate success without failures, and can’t truly know their strength until it is tested. That substance lies not in what others say about me, but what I say about myself. I found peace in the chaos of my thoughts He touched me and the warmth of the Son filled me and the light that was in me permeated the darkness and I began to shine.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-15348783985945587322010-02-21T03:16:00.001-05:002010-02-21T03:17:46.060-05:00Lovers and Friends....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S4DsGB_CjNI/AAAAAAAABxY/0WwaGgiWPeE/s1600-h/first-love-beth-armsheimer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/S4DsGB_CjNI/AAAAAAAABxY/0WwaGgiWPeE/s400/first-love-beth-armsheimer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440607938219773138" /></a><br />It’s been said that friends make the best lovers,<br />I have often wondered why? <br />Is it because they know ones ins and outs?<br />Or because they know what lies behind their eyes?<br />Is it their attention their history and comprisal of all the things that make them up? <br />Or their ability to see the beauty you possess even if it’s in the morning without your make up?<br />Or is it simply because they took time to experience your story?<br />In this fickle world we are often afraid to reveal who we are intimately, <br />But a true friend takes time to displace insecurity, <br />When one truly cares, they want to experience your mind,<br />Far before they are ever concerned about the other side of “quality time”, <br /><br />When you tell them your deepest secrets, <br />They are not dissuaded or intimidated, <br />Nor do they find perverse intrigue, <br />They simply understand that’s apart of your personality, <br />And you can rest assure that they won’t tell anybody, <br />Or even more so it because they know all of those pleasurable places others never privily to, simply because they took the time to listen to you, <br />Stories you freely disclosed, racy, sometimes wild, <br />And with attentive ears they simply listened and smiled, <br />All the while respecting you and suppressing selfish desires, <br />Allowing you to fine solace and affection in their arms, <br />A lady or a gentleman they remain, <br />Unless you both fall victim to seduction and her charms, <br /><br />Regardless of the each situation what is most important of all,<br />Whatever should happen you can always depend on your friend <br />To be there whenever you call, <br />So next time your making excuses of why you think it won’t work out, <br />Go ahead and try the friend thing out, <br />You never know what may happen in the end the greatest lover in life could end up being your best friend.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-53857475289519478472009-12-30T07:52:00.000-05:002009-12-30T07:55:20.219-05:00Pause for Prose: Baby it's cold outside<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztNos-P-VI/AAAAAAAABxQ/ibi3iGENV_I/s1600-h/footsteps+in+the+snow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztNos-P-VI/AAAAAAAABxQ/ibi3iGENV_I/s400/footsteps+in+the+snow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421011938132883794" /></a><br /><br />There are universal questions that we all ask ourselves throughout course of our life's journey. One of them seems to always be “Who am I?” For some of us it feels like it takes a lifetime to answer while we are met with more and more intense questions at varying crossroads that often feel frightening. Frightening because it requires reflection of ourselves, who we are and we desire to be.<br />Yesterday I awakened work to freshly fallen snow that covered all of New York as I was getting ready for work. This was a totally new experience for me because I am from Texas. It rarely snows there, and when it does everything shut down. Here in New York folks don’t miss a beat, so with a “when in Rome” attitude I began my trek to the job. <br />In the midst of tingling frozen fingers, a runny nose, and a flurry of flakes hitting my face, I had an epiphany. Not just that it was cold but something more. As I walked down the avenue to my train I noticed footsteps in the snow going in every direction. Some seemed to disappear in the dirt and grime of the street while others were going right and some retreating back from whence they came. As I began to make my own impressions I thought about all of the pressures I have put on myself to be something grand and to make my impression on the world. I heard the crunch of contentment and felt myself slipping on a path that says, “Life is too short for mistakes you have to get things right the first time” yet when an elder passes we are often met with words of solace like “they made many mistakes but with those mistakes that were life lessons, and left impressions on them that made them the person they are. We should celebrate their life for their greatest successes and many failures.” <br />Too often we focus on the destination that our footsteps will take us to, yet we forget to enjoy the texture that life brings and the journey that leads us to our destination. We step out into the cold world feeling all alone, on our own trying to make sure that we don’t slip and fall, or get on the wrong path and having to turn around. <br />Often discouragement and fear lies in the knowledge that these paths are unchartered and therefore unknown. There are holes you could sink into, snow covering ice that could cause you to slip an fall, slippery walk ways that could cause you to lose your footing. For this reason it seems that many of us run from the path that was laid before us, retreating back to beginnings and never progressing. You got folks telling you, you may get out there and that cold is going to kick your ass, only to find out that it’s not that bad. For me as I moved forward I began to see things differently, as I took each step I was creating a temporary path for someone to use as a guide and even if I were to fall or step in a hole my mistake helped expose my followers to not step that way. But the thing I think I liked most about the snow is that any misstep I made would soon be blanketed so that I could try again, and soon after it will all wash away when I reach the warm destination of self-contentment.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-23392848901594691752009-12-29T06:58:00.000-05:002009-12-30T07:07:57.222-05:00A night at the OperaDespite a long day, working midnight shift then getting off at eight in the morning to be at my internship at nine, I was anticipating going to my first opera with a co-worker of mine who is a lover of the arts. After I received the call that she had gotten the rush tickets (if you don’t know you better ask somebody) I hopped on the bus headed to 62ndstreet. There was a light but consistent rain as I got on that was just heavy enough to make it annoying. That, coupled with the traffic from the lighting of the tree in Rockerfeller Center, would have been enough to aggravate most but I was enjoying the rest I was getting and knew that we had time before the show started. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztBmsEn-VI/AAAAAAAABwY/lN4fQO7BF4c/s1600-h/gift+shop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztBmsEn-VI/AAAAAAAABwY/lN4fQO7BF4c/s400/gift+shop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420998709391915346" /></a><br /><br />Because we arrived so early we had about an hour and a half to spend, so we decided to check out the gift shop. I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to find something for my mother for Christmas. Unfortunately even the smallest trinkets were out of my price range. Still, the place had some beautiful costume displays and other nice memorabilia to look at. As we walked a little further and listened to Pavarotti playing lowly in the background <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztB1uv_wpI/AAAAAAAABwg/bAlQKdwqXG8/s1600-h/portrait+of+a+gentleman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztB1uv_wpI/AAAAAAAABwg/bAlQKdwqXG8/s400/portrait+of+a+gentleman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420998967808737938" /></a><br />I was drawn to this painting. The gentleman in it was poised and elegant in a brocaded suit with knickers, cream silk stockings, and pumps with a cape to match. I couldn’t help but feel underdressed in my car coat, cable knit, and cords, but it was my first time at the Opera so I figured my fellow patrons would cut me some slack. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCCL1OaWI/AAAAAAAABw4/mvVrGY3K1-k/s1600-h/mary3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCCL1OaWI/AAAAAAAABw4/mvVrGY3K1-k/s400/mary3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420999181773728098" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCB3C783I/AAAAAAAABww/M9Fto1QUZ4s/s1600-h/mary2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCB3C783I/AAAAAAAABww/M9Fto1QUZ4s/s400/mary2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420999176194093938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCBpjHxGI/AAAAAAAABwo/caatvGUJgKY/s1600-h/mary+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCBpjHxGI/AAAAAAAABwo/caatvGUJgKY/s400/mary+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420999172570989666" /></a><br /><br />Before going into the lobby area we checked out an exhibit entitled Mary Magadeline that showcased artist's different interpretations of Mary Magadeline. Check the “Good Book” for more info on her. The thing I especially enjoyed about these remarkable artists was that they each had a individual interpretation of who Mary was and what she represented and they conveyed them in an array of mediums -- one in sculpture another in mosaic, some depicting her as a saint, others demurely, and others still in a more seductively and rakish manner. While the mediums, depictions and dispositions were quite different from one another, all of the artists came together to create something beautiful. Life is a lot like art in this way. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCSt1PCII/AAAAAAAABxA/A138gqOB5_Q/s1600-h/the+flyer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCSt1PCII/AAAAAAAABxA/A138gqOB5_Q/s400/the+flyer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420999465778481282" /></a><br /><br />As we walked through the museum the pictures and keepsakes from the house spoke to it’s rich history. Speaking of history, this is the perfect place for a little bit about the Metropolitan Opera House, it was founded in 1883 by a group of business men who wanted their own theatre. In the beginning the management and language changed frequently which often meant translating original scores from one language to another. Finally management decided it would be easiest to keep each play in its original language. The Met (as is it is typically referred to) host more than two hundred performances with more than a quarter million people in attendance each year. New York’s socialites and movers and shakers often come out opening night in sartorial splendor to celebrate first curtain. The Met seems to be vested in continuing the arts developing a new program that commission playwrights and composers with whatever they need to develop new works that can be produced at The Met. The Met also offers a rush ticket program that provides discounted seats ($20) in the orchestra section which provided this opportunity. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCd0-1baI/AAAAAAAABxI/3dQQhVQfZ2E/s1600-h/the+autotorium.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SztCd0-1baI/AAAAAAAABxI/3dQQhVQfZ2E/s400/the+autotorium.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420999656676355490" /></a><br /><br />With all the visual and audio stimulation around me I was amped going into the autotorium and was pleasantly surprised to see that I wasn’t under dressed. We found our way to our seats and I prepared myself for “The House of the Dead”. I was comfortably in my seat as a hush fell over the crowd when a the first act began and the lights went out. And then, so did I. I was awakened by my co-worker telling me she had to use the powder room and if I didn’t see her she enjoyed attending with me I couldn’t believe it, I had fallen asleep. Oh well at least I could say I had been to the Opera and I had a reason to go again.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-1048512258223266992009-12-07T06:19:00.001-05:002009-12-07T06:26:55.241-05:00The Holiday Spirit.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SxzlCVPPHdI/AAAAAAAABwM/9D-SugCIUOY/s1600-h/2062312977_a35aa9ef92.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SxzlCVPPHdI/AAAAAAAABwM/9D-SugCIUOY/s400/2062312977_a35aa9ef92.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412452680416042450" /></a><br /><br /> With the holiday season in full swing, I wanted to offer an alternative perspective to typical mindset that comes with the season. With the economy on the rebound and consumer confidence on the rise, some say there is a temptation to be sucked into the commercialism of the Christmas season. But is that the attitude we should have? With Thanksgiving having just passed I have had an opportunity to take a moment to think about on what I was really thankful for. While I am sure we are all thankful for the turkey, stuffing, and sweet potato pie, let’s not forget that all these things are “dressings” for the real reason for the season.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> This past Thanksgiving I had the pleasure of engaging in lively conversations with my new extended family over a few glasses of wine and several glasses of iced tea because still I had to work that night. We shared laughter, jokes, and had a wonderful time enjoying each other perspectives on the goings on of the world around us. It was in that moment that I had an epiphany - it is these moments--these experiences--that we should hold on to...that we should be thankful for. You cannot put a price tag on these moments. They are our most pure and priceless keepsakes. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> One of my brothers from another mother took a picture of me and a literary friend of mine engaging in a conversation (...because we can fly blog at www.deborahcowell.com, check her out she may just bless you). She made mention during that conversation that the picture could be anywhere in years to come, and someone could be asking questions like, “What do you think they were talking about?” “What was going on in the world at that time?” We have the power to inspire thought, research, and inspiration through images, but what’s more is that we have a forum with which to discuss it on a global scale. For others to be invited into our life to see things through our eyes, and experience a different walk in our shoes.<br /><br /> <br /><br /> I am thankful to my family back home, who cultivated and developed my curiosity which put on the path that led me here to this beautiful city. And I am thankful for the wonderful people that challenge me to be better and inspire me to contemplate deeper things, and live a more fulfilled life. As Christmas quickly approaches, and we rush out to buy the latest electronic devices, new toys, or trendy articles of clothing let us not forget about the gifts that can’t be bought but carry so much more value: family interaction, being with to the ones you love, and seeing Christ in those we interact with. That’s definitely something to be thankful for.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-12772161813653025862009-11-27T01:49:00.001-05:002009-11-27T01:59:25.099-05:00School is in secessionThe longer that I live here in “The City”, the more I realize that my hardcore education did not really begin until the moment I stepped off the plane to this new chapter of my life. Whether it has been the fast pace of the people on the streets, the grit and rawness of almost everything, or the realization that you really do have to make it here on your own the lesson to be learned from it all is not cliche -- if you can survive here then you really can thrive anywhere. New York, as a mentor of mine has explained, is a kinetic city. It gives you right back what you put in, and you never know what seemingly random interaction might open the door to your greatness. I have been blessed to be in the right circles around the right people to educate myself on things that others may not have otherwise had the opportunity to experience, but as the good Book says, "Ask and you shall receive." I have done just that and that request has lead me here.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw92hF9k3UI/AAAAAAAABvk/cDrhJPVvCS8/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw92hF9k3UI/AAAAAAAABvk/cDrhJPVvCS8/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408671988403461442" /></a> <br /><br /> As soon as I arrived in New York my mentor told me I had to stop by the Alan Flusser Shop on 5th Avenue. As I walked passed Rockerfeller Center and Bloomingdales on this historic avenue I expected something a bit more grand than what I found. When I arrived at the address there was a nondescript buzzer on an unassuming building that many pass on a daily basis without a second thought. It was only after I got off on the elevator and entered what could only be described as a university of decorum, refinement, social interaction, and sartorial arts that I understood New York, a city often noted for its exportation of the grandiose, is a place where the great ones learn and teach of being understated and demure. There is an art to this.<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw93413E1ZI/AAAAAAAABv0/6zJeqmbpRws/s1600/photo2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw93413E1ZI/AAAAAAAABv0/6zJeqmbpRws/s400/photo2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408673495909717394" /></a><br /><br /> If you aren’t familiar with my dean let me enlighten you. He is the author of several books on dressing and style including: Clothes and the Man, and Style and the Man, and most recently Dressing the Man. As a designer his accolades include receiving the Coty Award for top men’s designer, and being a costume designer for the move Wall Street. He remains a leading authority on men’s style and matters of taste. But the man himself is quietly reserved, confident, and mild in manner. His style, however, hints to something more engaging. Sonething that seemingly promotes conversation, and the guy seems to have a interesting story about a lot of things that you could listen to hours to. The rest of the professors have been in the retail industry for twenty plus years but beyond their knowledge of analytical operations, the offer lessons in color theory, sartorial textiles and origins, fit 101, and the psychology of clientele interaction. As my dean Alan Flusser has stated “This shop is a university of sorts teaching not only matters of sartorial knowledge, but social interaction and hospitality.”<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw94hl7xR6I/AAAAAAAABv8/slnW0kyytzI/s1600/Flusser2001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Sw94hl7xR6I/AAAAAAAABv8/slnW0kyytzI/s400/Flusser2001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408674196009076642" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /> While I am truly grateful for my matriculation and degree, I believe that it was all just preparation for the real education of life. As Oscar Wilde once said “Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.”Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-43571108566136737112009-11-16T04:32:00.001-05:002009-11-16T04:37:56.586-05:00The Season of...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SwEcYxWM8XI/AAAAAAAABvc/cL89aVg7lY8/s1600/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SwEcYxWM8XI/AAAAAAAABvc/cL89aVg7lY8/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404632239710204274" /></a><br /><br /><br />Behold that old things must pass away to make way for things to become anew. Life is all about change, and transition. Funny thing about transition it seems to be one of the most exciting, yet awkward, and confusing times in life each time it happens. I have equated it to walking into a dark room and trying to find your way around, being able to see images but unable to make out what they are or fully appreciate where they are. We tend to think these things are obstacles having to feel our way around and use other senses to guide us to our destination but once we arrive at the switch and turn the light on, it is revealed that those so called obstacles were actually gifts that we could only appreciate after we felt them out, often times we take precious things like the metamorphosis of maturity for granted and can only appreciate arriving at a desired destination if we had to go through something to get to it. <br />So I must begin this change that has started to take place with an apology. This journey that you are all taking with me should be so much more than fashion, or the proverbial luxurious lifestyle. As a side note I had the pleasure of meeting a very wise gentleman who spoke to me about what luxury is and he said that, “True luxury is having the resources and time to the things that you want to do at your leisure.” With this new revelation I will be attempting to take you on a luxurious experience filled with new understanding of self, and the world around me, through the relationships I build and maybe even some that I have discard. But I believe it was best said in David Copperfield when he said, “Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.” <br /><br />With that said I thank you for taking this trip with me…Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-48832750808074621252009-09-19T17:08:00.000-04:002009-09-19T18:43:18.202-04:00My Sincerest ApologiesLadies and Gents I must offer my sincerest apologies to you all who have been checking for updates. So many incredible things have happened to me. First I have relocated to Harlem, NY. Between looking for a place and roaming the streets I haven't had a lot of time to update the blog, now that I am moderately settled I will be updating about once a week. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVMUrx7lqI/AAAAAAAABuk/Kx5MAXCXJno/s1600-h/7028_280231915472_813220472_8752441_6643432_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVMUrx7lqI/AAAAAAAABuk/Kx5MAXCXJno/s400/7028_280231915472_813220472_8752441_6643432_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383292847824541346" /></a><br /><br />New York has been a filled so many visually stimulating things it's amazing and as luck would have it I arrived just in time for NYC fashion week. We Stepped out for Fashion Night Out. And we decided to settle at the Bloomingdale's Store at 59th and Lexington and I was definitely glad we did. I enjoyed a wonderful conversation with a gentleman who was constructing Timberland's on site it was quite impressive to watch. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVYTI7o1tI/AAAAAAAABu0/0BnjQ-XHSKo/s1600-h/timberland.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVYTI7o1tI/AAAAAAAABu0/0BnjQ-XHSKo/s400/timberland.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383306015429678802" /></a><br /><br />And I had the chance to hang out with my partners in crime...here's one introducing Mr. Kevin Brown author and designer in all his natty glory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVU2ma5PpI/AAAAAAAABus/ywAVSCodCN8/s1600-h/kev1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVU2ma5PpI/AAAAAAAABus/ywAVSCodCN8/s400/kev1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383302226594315922" /></a><br /><br />We end the evenings festivities at an exclusive soiree' hotel suite<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVdnAhRrCI/AAAAAAAABvM/lHGceR_JCSI/s1600-h/the+city+%40+dream.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVdnAhRrCI/AAAAAAAABvM/lHGceR_JCSI/s400/the+city+%40+dream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383311854327147554" /></a><br /><br />NYC Fashion week also brought with it my first NYC Fashion Show it was in an Art Gallery in Soho and for designer TELFAR <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVcss5cDJI/AAAAAAAABvE/13QBqQlPYBE/s1600-h/telfar+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVcss5cDJI/AAAAAAAABvE/13QBqQlPYBE/s400/telfar+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383310852627369106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVcsYZ7pUI/AAAAAAAABu8/kxl19OpLfGs/s1600-h/telfar2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVcsYZ7pUI/AAAAAAAABu8/kxl19OpLfGs/s400/telfar2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383310847126512962" /></a><br /><br />All in all I have to say I'm loving NYC and I think it loves me too...see you soon...until then keep creating and innovating. Ciao.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVeKHGRW6I/AAAAAAAABvU/1slNmfNBsFw/s1600-h/time+square.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SrVeKHGRW6I/AAAAAAAABvU/1slNmfNBsFw/s400/time+square.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383312457388350370" /></a>Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-80936962604199368662009-09-05T11:43:00.000-04:002009-09-05T12:13:09.739-04:00Do you're best forget the rest“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn.”<br /><br />And the winner is...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SqKK1dzmHpI/AAAAAAAABuc/tnayqaCStqk/s1600-h/a9_medium.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 165px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SqKK1dzmHpI/AAAAAAAABuc/tnayqaCStqk/s400/a9_medium.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378013556172529298" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SqKKw7wKDHI/AAAAAAAABuU/uR-bLy2_MWY/s1600-h/a5_xlarge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SqKKw7wKDHI/AAAAAAAABuU/uR-bLy2_MWY/s400/a5_xlarge.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378013478311824498" /></a><br /><br />Dan T. <br /><br /><div><iframe height="339" width="425" src="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22425001/vp/32656404#32656404" frameborder="0" scrolling="no"></iframe><p style="font-size:11px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: #999; margin-top: 5px; background: transparent; text-align: center; width: 425px;">Visit msnbc.com for <a style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;" href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com">Breaking News</a>, <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032507" style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;">World News</a>, and <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032072" style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;">News about the Economy</a></p></div>Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-6227137855567746692009-08-29T19:52:00.000-04:002009-08-29T19:53:37.306-04:00My apologiesFor all of my readers my apologies I will be back on point on the first of September 1st. I promise it'll be worth the wait...Follow me.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-46443428257851475012009-08-15T10:42:00.000-04:002009-08-15T12:45:08.601-04:00Ascension<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SobJ0T7tKtI/AAAAAAAABt0/-XMg4oNbYjI/s1600-h/139_550_250_crop_63bea.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 182px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SobJ0T7tKtI/AAAAAAAABt0/-XMg4oNbYjI/s400/139_550_250_crop_63bea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370201506226973394" /></a><br /><br />“Intellectual growth should commence at birth and cease only at death” Albert Einstein<br /><br />Intelligence is rooted in education, yet contrary to popular belief scholastic education isn't what college is all about. College is an examination...It's an examination of thoughts, of perceptions, of self, of life and what we want to make it. "The unexamined life isn't a life worth living." -PlatoMichael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-83550195667675866622009-08-11T08:29:00.001-04:002009-08-11T08:36:47.804-04:00Sartorial Hipsters<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkjDGwZdI/AAAAAAAABts/WD8XEMtsqIk/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkjDGwZdI/AAAAAAAABts/WD8XEMtsqIk/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682784094184914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkixMAk8I/AAAAAAAABtk/kns1IrEE0Po/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkixMAk8I/AAAAAAAABtk/kns1IrEE0Po/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682779284378562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkir2vhjI/AAAAAAAABtc/vW2TEuSiF-Y/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkir2vhjI/AAAAAAAABtc/vW2TEuSiF-Y/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682777853003314" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZoQ9ncI/AAAAAAAABtU/JREWS2lXE_c/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZoQ9ncI/AAAAAAAABtU/JREWS2lXE_c/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682622270414274" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZadZLxI/AAAAAAAABtM/NJ1vdue9BZ0/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZadZLxI/AAAAAAAABtM/NJ1vdue9BZ0/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682618564456210" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZUC9j6I/AAAAAAAABtE/ZuXRAYH-ngM/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZUC9j6I/AAAAAAAABtE/ZuXRAYH-ngM/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682616842981282" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZIU7zpI/AAAAAAAABs8/cQhaLHtqKCo/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkZIU7zpI/AAAAAAAABs8/cQhaLHtqKCo/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682613697138322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkY-U7KvI/AAAAAAAABs0/hFebqBsDmTI/s1600-h/whereabouts-fall-2009-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/SoFkY-U7KvI/AAAAAAAABs0/hFebqBsDmTI/s400/whereabouts-fall-2009-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368682611012741874" /></a><br /><br />Whereabout A/W 2009Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1081331022359929785.post-3564824752008684392009-08-04T05:26:00.000-04:002009-08-04T05:38:16.831-04:00Like Mommy and Daddy Did...Come here my lady take my hand let's run away to lover's land, lets pretend I'm not your man so we can share the smile the first time we saw each others eyes, and relive the adventures we experienced on those long drives, when we didn't listen to the worlds lies telling us we couldn't last, telling each others secrets like school kids, admiring every little thing each other did when love was simple, playful filled with life and color, the time I met you and new for me there was no other. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_6h4ztFI/AAAAAAAABso/xFPlzQlHhUE/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_6h4ztFI/AAAAAAAABso/xFPlzQlHhUE/s400/liya+and+andre+7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038862029370450" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_rD2fGNI/AAAAAAAABsg/wRZhBk20R2A/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_rD2fGNI/AAAAAAAABsg/wRZhBk20R2A/s400/liya+and+andre+6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038596268529874" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_lZLcRfI/AAAAAAAABsY/MX3KIwB-hbM/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_lZLcRfI/AAAAAAAABsY/MX3KIwB-hbM/s400/liya+and+andre+5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038498914354674" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_lM_44HI/AAAAAAAABsQ/29I0qyTNkf4/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_lM_44HI/AAAAAAAABsQ/29I0qyTNkf4/s400/liya+and+andre+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038495644672114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_k3_Pv6I/AAAAAAAABsI/_pAT9wDu-5g/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_k3_Pv6I/AAAAAAAABsI/_pAT9wDu-5g/s400/liya+and+andre+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038490004832162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_kgUWpxI/AAAAAAAABsA/hLy7Eaa_ZEE/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_kgUWpxI/AAAAAAAABsA/hLy7Eaa_ZEE/s400/liya+and+andre+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038483650914066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_kZe3hfI/AAAAAAAABr4/Wh9TPMYEyHA/s1600-h/liya+and+andre+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_y9OOloE7bjg/Snf_kZe3hfI/AAAAAAAABr4/Wh9TPMYEyHA/s400/liya+and+andre+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366038481815963122" /></a><br /><br />I found this wonderful fashion well perusing around one of my favorite fashion sites <a href="http://fashionbombdaily.com/">The Fashion Bomb</a> and thought I'd share it with you. Enjoy.Michael Andrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01575788256049156920noreply@blogger.com1