Misha_abq's VirtualTourist Home Page

Most recent additions and news. -- July 1 - Finally added "Inn of the Seventh Ray" an esoteric eating experience that is over the top, but an absolute must do.

June 29th, just added an Off the Beaten Track tip on the Debbie Reynolds Dance Studio in North Hollywood.--This one is really in the dark, but if your a movie aficionado about that era--it is not to be missed.

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A quick note before I venture on. We are back from a stunning trip to the Iberian Peninsula. Nathan, Kymba, Das, and I traveled together to visit Spain, specifically the Barcelona area, and Portugal. What an extraordinary adventure filled with tasty food, interesting characters, fascinating history, and stunning architecture. Visit my travel pages for Barcelona, Girona, Tarragona, and Porto.

As a mature traveler I would say this, pack much less, take vitamins, bring excellent walking shoes, and a digital camera that takes video too. I only took 500 pics, much less than the normal VTer—but I love to write. So, hopefully you will get the essence from both.

Since 2004, I have been on a search. A search for a two heritages rich with culture, history, and language. It started when my father, a combination of Mexican and Yaqui bloodlines, died in 1998, and I realized I didn't know a single word in Spanish that could be said in polite company. Could it be true that I truly had no concept of his people and history. Meanwhile, my mother, a nice Jewish girl from Pittsburgh, gave up much of her own heritage to build a family with "universal" values. Did it work? All I know is at 50, I craved to understand that which I came from . . . an archeologist of my own past.

So, dear readers, I went in search of this diverse Spanish speaking population, in South America, and the other motherland--Spain. I wanted to know what made us tick, what made our Latino past fraught with wars, exploration, mysticism, and change. I looked for Jewish roots from the Spanish perspective and how it fit into my family's focus. I was on a path of exploration.

This new mission has taken me to Argentina, Spain, and Portugal. Each one has enchanted me with its people and culture. Please explore, comment, enjoy. It will take a while to complete this, but know that I will keep going.

"

We have arrived!!! Nate and I landed in LA on the 15th of January and 48 hours later he was working on the television show, “Cold Case.”

We're here in Sherman Oaks in a small apartment trying to figure out the neighborhood and the industry. We will be here for a year exploring the possibility that this is where Nathan will build his career.

On the way out Wednesday, Nate sat in the car memorizing the script for the television show "Cold Case." The story centers on the death of a young dancer in the 1980's. The day began with Nathan meeting with his manager, Sharon, who put him through his paces, coaching and preparing him. She is incredible and we feel honored to have her working with Nate.

On Thursday, we spent hours on the Warner Brothers lot at the casting office with Nathan reading, dancing and waiting. He was called back three times to meet with the producers and the writer--and yesterday, we found out he was booked as a guest role for “Cold Case." The show began shooting on the 25th and air (we think) sometime in March. Both of us were ecstatic!!!!!

As a good New Mexican, my bedside table is cramped with all my milagros. The glow in the dark Mary filled with holy water from Chimayo, the plastic statue of Saint Joseph who spent the autumn upside down in the earth of the Corrales house (by the way, he did great work--the house sold in December!), an assortment of frog princes, a picture of Amachi, and a huge quartz crystal. Have I covered all the bases???? Don't worry about the Jewish part---we're not allowed to have the idolatry so there is nothing on the table for that faction, that part resides in my heart and soul.

Filming has been interesting to watch. We wait for the cameras, lighting and set to be set up---and then they film for a half hour or so. Then we wait again for everything to be set up for a different perspective---and they shoot for a half an hour. Most interesting. A collection of people perch close to the cameras—makeup, hair, prop, wardrobe, script, and, of course, all the techies.

Above a picture of Nate with his blood.

So, in this chapter will be about the patch of earth outside my study area, framed by a set of French doors, and waiting for spring 2006. I will wait for the sighting of the first daffodils pushing through the soil, the greening of brown twigs in the earth, the watching of two cats stalking the birds and the long awaited arrival of my beloved garden toads.

Sometimes, when I'm working in the garden, I find fat earthworms while I'm digging, and I apologize for disturbing their dark naps, pouring dirt over them as quickly as I can. Other times, I just sit on the worn wooden bench and listen to the droning music of lazy bumblebees that hop from flower to flower, burying their heads to drink from blossoms like parched travelers.

Being a gardener, I guess I wear a perspective about life like well washed overalls, putting everything I experience in the context of a dynamic growing earth, how it affects it. Why I am a gardener is probably the result of too much city life, too many noises and far too many things to do. Perhaps, I needed to be quiet and moving, and gardening was the perfect Buddhist practice for a recovering capitalist.

Yet, the dirt under my fingernails cannot hold the gypsy in me--I love to travel, smell the scent of pungent spices, try to decifer signs in foreign languages, and let the perfume of different cultures waft through my soul.

Misha

I used to live in a little village on the outskirts of Albuquerque. if you are not from here, you will not know about it. It is tucked away in the cottonwoods, with mallard ducks, smelly skunks, an occasional beaver, and coyotes that dine on pet cats (alas, at least one of mine :-( ). Aside from being viewed as a diner for the local coyote population, it's okay with me; I would rather walk in the Bosque (forest) without the fervor of car sounds. I want to hear the crackle of dried leaves under my feet as I trundle next to the Rio Grande river.

This was the route of the conquistadors that followed the river while they claimed this land. Somehow in American history, they forget that there was a whole other story west of the Mississippi, and that tale belongs to the Spanish.

This week I stumbled onto Ben-UK's site filled with stunning sunsets, wondered if I was doing things right, but I am a writer and perhaps my words will paint an acceptable picture.