Marianne Aya Omac, with friends

French musician Marianne Aya Omac playing at Ashkenaz in Berkeley, Calif., on Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

French musician Marianne Aya Omac, left, playing Ashkenaz in Berkeley, Calif., with guests Joan Baez, middle, and Gabriel Harris, right, on Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Marianne Aya Omac playing Ashkenaz in Berkeley, Calif., on Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Gabriel Harris, off stage, watching Marianne Aya Omac perform at Ashkenaz in Berkeley, Calif. On Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011.

French musician Marianne Aya Omac, left, backstage after her show at Ashkenaz in Berkeley, Calif., with (Bob Marley) Joan Baez and Gabriel Harris. On Sunday, Sept. 11, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Marianne Aya Omac plays the Throckmorton Theater in Mill Valley with special guest, Joan Baez and Gabrial Harris on Monday, September 12, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Gabriel Harris with his daughter, breaking down the stage after his show with French musician Marianne Aya Omac, and guest Joan Baez, at the Throckmorton in Mill Valley, Calif., on Monday, Sept. 12, 2011. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.



Happiness Is

A cold lemon icey on a hot muggy day. A smell or song that transports you through time and place to a memory tucked far away. Or the soft embrace radiating pure love from a squishy bundle of joy. Happiness is Vivianna Jo.

 

Vivianna Jo with her mother Jessica. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Shrinking World

Moving to a new place, in a new city, in a new state, has heightened my awareness of many things, in particular the people whom I’ve been fortunate to have in my life. My friends, my community, my family and even the random everyday encounters, all add ingredients to my world, giving me a richer and more delectable recipe for this life. As I explore the crevices within myself, vis-à-vis the exploration of a new place, my gratitude shifts to the interconnectedness within the world, the generosity and kindness shared by new friends, and really realize how small the world is, and continues to become.

My faux neighbors Dre & Dede invited me to Rockaway beach for a ‘bit of a Barbie’ (BBQ) recently. Indulgent and delightful. Afterwards the group strolled along the beach, played in the water and sipped some smooth Cuban Rum.

Donia Love on an evening stroll along Rockaway Beach, New York. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Rockaway Beach, NY. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Dede & Johnny Irish, at Rockaway Beach. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Not that I would, but in theory, you can’t swing a dead cat in this town without bumping into someone who is either from or has lived in San Francisco. I stopped by The Palms to check it out before it closed for the season. I ran into Jeff Stark, an instigator, an organizer, a connector and in this instance, a bartender. Like he told me, just google his name and you’ll find a multitude of pages linking to his adventures.

Jeff Stark bar-tending on closing night of The Palms, a temporary club in Brooklyn's Williamsburg district. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

He had me at Connoisseur of Whiskey and being a Nikon shooter. I was lucky to bump into this distinguished gentleman, Werner Cohn, in Brooklyn Heights during tropical storm Irene. Werner shared that he first began taking photographs at 5 years old, in 1930, in Berlin. He went on to tell about photographing Berlin in 1936. “Do you know what was going on in Berlin in 1936?”, he asked in mid-sentence, “Yes”, feeling confident I knew what he was about to say, “The Olympics”. Oh yes, Jesse Owens, Hitler’s walk out, and the infamous Leni Riefenstahl. He was 10 at the time, and still has the original film that he shot then.

Scholar, artist, connoisseur and Brooklyn Blogger, Werner Cohn. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011

Ground Zero

I set out the other day to check on a site in Brooklyn Heights I had photographed during Irene, and found myself halfway up Manhattan instead. On the ride back to Brooklyn, down the West Side Promenade, I realized where I had unintentionally ended up.

Freedom Tower. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

World Financial Center. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Ground Zero. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Freedom Tower. I over heard a tour guide mention the name is derived from its 1776 ft. height. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Ground Zero. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Freedom Tower. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Brooklyn with Beatrice

Red Hook, (Roode Hoek) named by the Dutch for the red clay of the ground and the point, or "hoek" that extends into the Atlantic, became a point/ port of entry into Brooklyn for ships. Here's a defunct trolly sitting between the Fairway and Lady Liberty. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.

Beatrice, my trusty steed, and I have been getting around much of Brooklyn and into Manhattan. The other day we meant to head back to a site I photographed after Irene, and found ourselves half way up Manhattan. She's older than I, and still rides with ease. Photo by, Karie Henderson © 2011.