Retrograde

In Times Square prior to the New Year’s Eve celebration, the numerals of the new year are put on display before taking their place atop 1 Times Square. On December 16th, 2019 there was a staff shopping social and as I had spare Mexican Pesos to conv…

In Times Square prior to the New Year’s Eve celebration, the numerals of the new year are put on display before taking their place atop 1 Times Square. On December 16th, 2019 there was a staff shopping social and as I had spare Mexican Pesos to convert, I stopped in at a currency exchange before heading to our organzation’s flagship store in Chelsea.

It’s hard to believe that 2020 is half completed. And somehow, I’ve survived to tell the tale. Life is in a different place than it was when this year started.

This year so far, can be separated into two distinct periods of time. Before the corona virus from New Year’s Day to March 16th and after from March 17th to the present day. This year started off anti climatically as I ushered in the new year by taking out the bottle of Autour des Anges sparkling that I brought back from France in October from the fridge. I was determined to bring more joy into the new year and next decade.

I got a late start to the fun. But I managed to make up for lost time thanks to the staff holiday party, the NY Times Travel Show and being called onstage to bumble my way through the Macarena as part of Divas de España in January. February consisted seeing my friend Erin Hall perform, Bria Skonberg at Zankel Hall and the Dope Jams Valentine’s Day Ball on the same weekend. It was this night that I saw my friends Jen & Saasha in the same room for the first time since 2016. Me & Mr. Jones to end the month. St. Patrick’s Day was started early with the Trinity Irish Dance Company on March 15tb.

As the month of March continued on, everything moved quickly. On March 16th, it was the last time that I stepped into the Donation Call Center, only to spend the rest of the day cancelling every donation we set up for the month. The next day, we would be working from home. But that lasted for one week before the work dried up on the 23rd. Later that same week, the entire department was placed on furlough. It was devastating to realize the unknown territory that I was in. Six years of living on autopilot, now I didn’t know what to do with myself. There was a small measure of solace though, in streaming Pearl Jam’s album “Gigaton” minutes after the announcement was made and coming across the song that this post is named after. It pulled me up after crying my eyes out.


But there was a blessing in disguise. As all of this was happening, I was enrolled in Cathy Heller’s “Made To Do This” program. I found my solace in every facet, from the class group and everyone else’s, to the homework assignments, the mastermind pod calls and Cathy’s weekly coaching calls. Slowly but surely, I began to realize that my words can be works of art. With the help of Canva, my words have life. I wrote the first piece, “Awakening” the morning after the moment of realization happened March 23rd and I haven’t stopped since.

In the aftermath of Made To Do This in April, all of us were asked to take a survey. Three of the surveys would be chosen at random for a prize draw. I received the sweater in the mail on June 3rd. I tried it on and thankfully, picking Large for the…

In the aftermath of Made To Do This in April, all of us were asked to take a survey. Three of the surveys would be chosen at random for a prize draw. I received the sweater in the mail on June 3rd. I tried it on and thankfully, picking Large for the size made it fit just right.

I didn’t expect the things that came after it. I’ve shared my story on two different podcasts, and one of my poems read on the third. I was in disbelief to be chosen for Cathy’s podcast as everyone else on the Honourable Mentions list could take my spot. I didn’t expect to have a writing for hire business, yet I was sought for commissions. And the farthest thing from my mind was creating a volume of poems. But there I was with the first draft of the book on screen and I couldn’t be happier. It was crazy to realize that people wanted me to help them with writing and see my poems floating in space on the internet. I didn’t expect to witness my friends Louisa & Trevor get married on Zoom as May turned to June.

But if this year to date has taught me anything, it’s that moments in the sun are out there. One has to take the opportunity and see where it goes.

With the second half of the year about to begin, it does so with a empty slate. The Roger Waters concert at MSG in August and my trip to Italy in mid September have been postponed. Work is an uncertain prospect too, so life right now is in a state of perpetual limbo. I worry that the creative fire won’t be as bright as it is at this moment.

A gift from Kristi Nellor. She made this piece for me back in March and I first saw it immediately after my turn in the hot seat during the coaching call on the 23rd. The inscription is the opening of the outro to Pink Floyd’s “Time”. It’s come to s…

A gift from Kristi Nellor. She made this piece for me back in March and I first saw it immediately after my turn in the hot seat during the coaching call on the 23rd. The inscription is the opening of the outro to Pink Floyd’s “Time”. It’s come to symbolize the feeling every time I arrive home from somewhere else.

Here’s hoping that life is in a better place at the end of this year. The second half of 2020 is ready & waiting to be written.

Sunday evening, June 28th. After the rain, thunder & lighting a rainbow appeared in the back window of my room. Maybe, it’s a sign that life won’t be so uncertain in the second half of 2020.

Sunday evening, June 28th. After the rain, thunder & lighting a rainbow appeared in the back window of my room. Maybe, it’s a sign that life won’t be so uncertain in the second half of 2020.

Oswald Perez

He writes to share the world through his eyes using words, photos and prose. He inspires people to tell their stories because their stories are ART.

http://www.oswaldperez.com
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How did we get here? The origins of A Poetic Journey

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Ordinary man