Without You

You are here and simultaneously nowhere. This is where you are not.

Not in this vista, on this rooftop, in this foreign country, or your very own city, with these people. This one is with that one, the people you introduced, the people you forgot about, the ones you still long for.

Today, you feel the smart of not having a table number, not being at karaoke, not buzzed on cocktails splayed across a couch, not arms around each other, not laughing hysterically while the person taking the picture tries in vain to get a good picture of all of you.

You are not an infant. You tell yourself how expensive weddings are, how this is an exception, how people are busy, how not everyone can be included, how sometimes almost no one is included.

You allow yourself no self pity because that is a waste of time and make an inventory of your better friends.

You don't linger there. You like them anyway. Or not.

But there's this one time. You wade further in for some reason. You let the sting sting you longer. You sit with it. 

You learn that the blue cast isn't the end of the world. Nobody will throw you in jail for feeling sad. 

You remember the work of Margaret Mead. Like it or not, you're a primate. You're part of something bigger than you. Of course you feel bad. It's how you've been made.

You're with a friend in her sunny loft. She takes a quick break from the conversation to return a text. Her other friend does the same. You take a fast look at social media. Just for a moment.

You see what you see there. And you're not there.

You are not with those people because you are with these people. You are not in those places because you are in this place.

Not to mention the people who you will see later today, not talk with but text, the strangers on the train, the loved ones, the future friends, the friends reconnected.

You're with who you're supposed to be with, where you should be. The other people you were thinking about before are just the people who live inside your phone. 

You might also enjoy: 

What I know, what I don’t know 

Modern Narcissus 

What’s Become of You, What’s Become of Me

My Future Crappy Work

Sometimes - often - I will do some writing, a collage or photography and realize quickly that it is crappy.  In many cases, I abandon it entirely. Delete.

Other times, I salvage it. A few tweaks and then it's good. I wrote about that experience here in The Crappy Collage.

On occasion I'll jump ship on the first attempt, then re-do it from start to finish. I do this when the idea is good but there is something wrong with the execution.

If I share some writing, collage or photography that means I like it. That's the simple way of looking at it.

It might be almost perfect. But I allow for some other things to happen. Sometimes I try something new on for size and see what sticks. I might consciously decide to explore a new direction or post something I'm a little on the fence about.

If I insisted on perfection every time, sure every time, well developed every time, I wouldn't share anything and I wouldn't do anything.

For the most part though, if I share it I'm proud of it.

If I'm lucky, I stay proud. There's stuff I've made or written that I love as much as the day I finished it. These are rarified moments in artist-time. I cherish this.

There is an in-between thing that happens frequently. Time passes, and if I had it to share again, there are small things I'd change. A paragraph I'd get rid of. Something that could have been more refined. I could have shifted my vantage point a bit to the left. Cropped something out.

So far, I've acknowledged this, but left the words or the image alone. I'm more interested in moving onto the next thing. It was a moment in time and I'm willing to let that be. This isn't brain surgery. This kind of imperfection never killed anyone.

If I get anything published I'll work with my editor and address it then.

Every once in a while, something else happens. I won't beat around the bush.

There is work that I created and shared at some point in the past. This work is crappy. I did not realize it at the time. I thought it was good six months or three years ago. My intentions were good.

It took some time and distance for me to realize it was crappy.

I took a bunch of crappy photographs and wrote a bunch of crappy words. While doing this, I learned a few things. The work I do now is much less crappy because of it.

I stay pragmatic and I stay positive. However, it sometimes takes my breath away, just how crappy something I did is. It's like the air being let out of a balloon. Or the terrible sound the needle makes scratching against an LP.

I keep it in perspective. How important is it that I shared a crappy photograph of moss in 2012? Or that a collage that accompanied a blog post is the paper and glue version of a train wreck? Bad poetry isn't the worst thing that can happen.

Crappy work is something I try my best to avoid but once it's been out there a while it's like carrying a screaming two-year-old out of the lake whose lips are turning blue. He needs to come out of the water. He doesn't want to come out of the water. He's making a lot of noise and kicking. People are looking.

He's your third child. He's acting crappy. You know he's acting crappy. All of these people at the beach know he's acting crappy. You’re not worried or defensive about what these people are thinking. You and these people are in agreement about the crappy screaming. It's best to contain things and move on. Don't overthink it like you did with the first.

That's exactly how it is with the crappy memoir piece I wrote.

My problem isn’t with what I did. My problem is with what I am about to do.

I write a blog post. I do what I always do these days. I write it.  I get rid of some of it. I make a collage. It had no diagonals because I am sick of diagonals. I use my computer printer in a ways that utilize classic printmaking techniques with an irreverent twist. The entire effect is beautiful.

I have a satisfied feeling that comes from doing a good job. I am proud of my work.

But then it occurs to me that I was proud of all the other work I did before and then at a later date I realized that some of it was crappy. Furthermore, there wasn't much rhyme or reason to which work had staying power and which work would become crappy later.

That's when I realize that I might have just finished some future crappy work!

I sit with the worry for a little while. Then I let it go.

It's easy for me to not publish crappy things in real time. I'm not an idiot. I’m not lazy.

The only way to avoid sharing work that I am sure wouldn't ever be crappy later would be to make work and then sit on it for several years before sharing it. Then after a decade, I could see what was still good.

Or I could keep working and working without sharing until becoming a near perfect writer or artist or photographer. I'd emerge, fully formed seeming like an overnight sensation or hidden genius.

These ideas are romantic and not without appeal.

Here's why I'm not doing it.

When I was younger there were limited ways of sharing your work. There was no social media. You could be in a gallery show, you could be published in a book or magazine, you could get commercial assignments, you could show your portfolio of carefully crafted prints to other people.

I did all of these things. But there could be long, lonely spaces between shows, assignments, and publications. Things remained buried in drawers and clamshell boxes. Sometimes I couldn't get anyone to look at my work.

In the best of all worlds, I'd shoot beautiful still life photographs that almost no one would see for six months because that was the lead-time of the magazine.

I wasn't made to work in isolation. Social media is one of the best things that has happened to me.

There is something democratic with all of this. In a global sense, there are no gatekeepers. Our lives are crowded with crappy work that we now need to delete, filter or ignore. Some people dislike this. There's no one keeping the riffraff out.

I've said it before. The cream will rise to the top. It always does.

I can't worry about what work will remain suspended and preserved in amber, or for how long. I can't worry about what will seem antiquated in a month, what will gain meaning with time or look like amateur hour a year from now.

So if you look and read, you'll see my process. It's not a fairy tale. That would be a lovely work of fiction. You never know. I might just write that fable someday.

You may also enjoy:

Lying In Wait

Percolating

What's Good For Us Now

Facebook New Year's Resolutions

I was relatively late to social media. In my case, waiting was a good idea. I got to observe from the sidelines. I avoided learning some things the hard way.

When I finally joined Facebook I was ready. That's important to point out. 

That's why I was surprised and appalled to have had not one, but two, skin crawling, nauseatingly negative experiences on Facebook. One of them was a couple of years ago, but still smarts. The other one was a week ago. 

Both experiences made me feel badly on two levels. One was that my feelings were deeply hurt. Another was that there was something about the way they went down that, in retrospect, might have been prevented had I been a little more savvy or careful.

It is tempting to publicly describe what happened. As difficult as it is in the short run, I think I will be happier in the long run taking the high road. Another way of putting it is that I am keeping it classy. A third interpretation is that I am above such behavior. Putting myself on this social media pedestal is a very satisfying feeling at this juncture.

It was surprising to note that things that happen via social media can feel just as crappy as things that happen in "real life.”

Nasty Facebook events have not happened in a vacuum. I've been given an opportunity to learn from any mistakes I have made in my choice of Facebook company.

I've taken a long, hard look at my Facebook life. As a result, I've come up with some resolutions. I am calling these New Year’s resolutions, but, truthfully, I've put them into effect immediately.

I am hoping that by implementing these safeguards, awareness, and common sense measures, I might avoid feeling emotionally battered in the future. Maybe it will help you, too.

Remind Yourself That You Don't Have Your Entire Toolbox

When we meet a person face-to-face in real time, we are evaluating them on levels that we are not fully cognizant of in the moment. We use eye contact, body language, nuanced conversation, and social signaling. Even the quality of a handshake or a smile can tell us tons of information about a person. Is this person safe or a threat? How is our chemistry together? Am I looking to extend the conversation or politely exit? Are we laughing?

When we meet someone for the first time on social media, we are stripped of abilities that for most of us are so natural, so ingrained that we might not appreciate their full function. It behooves us to remind ourselves that when we make friends on Facebook, we are doing it with one metaphorical hand tied behind our backs.

Continuously Ask Yourself: Do I Like This Person? Do I Still Like This Person?
This may seem obvious. But when I was honest with myself about the living, breathing cautionary tales I call former Facebook friends, I came to a shocking conclusion. I didn't actually like these people in the first place.

Things change. Maybe the funny stoner you liked in high school casts a negative pall on your newsfeed. Maybe you liked someone two years ago, but don't like them anymore.

Or maybe you didn't think being Facebook friends was that big a deal.

If you wouldn't consider being real life friends with someone then consider why it's okay to be Facebook friends.

I took a spin through my current friends list. The vast majority of the people on it are people I like - a lot. A couple of people gave me pause. That brings me to the next pointer.

Quietly Un-Friend People Before It Turns Completely Toxic
Just unfriend. Don't private message people to tell them why. Don't call them out on your status updates. Take the high road. But do it.

If Things Have Already Turned Toxic, Block Them
If the person gives you the heebie jeebies or you just don't want to see their crappy stuff in your newsfeed, block them. Especially do this if they bother you with private messages.

Continuously Ask Yourself: Does This Friend Like Me?
I admit to not having thought of this much previously. But sometimes I like certain people more than they like me in my non-social media life. I tend to move on quickly if I sense the other person doesn't like me. This can and should apply to Facebook.

If I find that I'm the one dishing out encouragement, comments, and likes with nary an acknowledgement, I’m going to start looking at that.

If I find that I am not feeling included in certain discussions, am not fine art enough, bereaved enough, gay enough, snarky enough, gorgeous enough or just not enough, I'm going to start quietly unfriending. If people are cliquey I'm quietly unfriending. I'm 52 years old. I graduated from high school a long time ago.

Consider Unfollowing
This is a late discovery of mine. There are three possible ways I am planning to use this capability.

I am going to put some people on probation. They are showing me some red flags. It will be a stopgap measure between being their friend and not being their friend. I'll check in with their wall once in a while to see what I think. In any case, If I can use a break from their updates.

I will unfollow and then follow again depending on what is happening.

Then there are people whom I like and are positive people. But there are only so many cat, dog, or sports pictures I can see in one day. I plan to check in with their wall, see what their up to and if something changes about the tenor of the posts I'll follow again.

And finally, I may need to temporarily distance myself during September, which is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Last year, I felt under siege by the sheer numbers of posts. I lived childhood cancer and to some extent I still do. I do not need to be reminded of the ravages or risks to my surviving children all of the time.

Everyone is different. I have an unlimited interest in people's children. I enjoy seeing people's meals. But if you don't like these things, then unfollow.

I found this article helpful on the subject of unfollowing.

Be Careful About The Friend Requests You Accept In The First Place.
In my non-social media life, I am friendly but cautious. I am warm but not particularly initiating. This pattern extended to Facebook - at first. Most friend requests come from others.

But then I got a little sloppy. I accepted friend requests with the sole criteria that the person and I had some mutual Facebook friends. It's time to get a bit more discriminating. I need to vet people more carefully. And once I accept a request, I'll put that person on probation for a bit.

Read Between The Lines Of Your Facebook Friend's Non-Social Media Life
Who seems to have a healthy relationship with family and friends? Group pictures, being tagged, shared family gatherings, party pics, and evidence of breaking bread with others are a clue, however imperfect, to the person being capable of healthy relationships. If they have children, do they seem to take pride in them? There's another clue.

On the other hand, one of my train-wreck former Facebook friends once publicly unfriended her own sibling, and another seemed to be a loner, which seemed romantic and appealing at first, but then not so much.

If Facebook is someone's only form of social interaction it might mean that the person is elderly, fighting chronic illness, living in a rural area or recently relocated. It could also mean something more sinister, and, excuse my language, fucked up is going on.

The capability to maintain social ties in real life says something about a person's ability to be a good friend on social media.

Be Careful About Riding In On The White Horse
One of my best qualities is my ability to step in in a crisis, be a good listener, support people through life stressors, and reach out during times of tragedy.

If your real life friend is undergoing surgery, cancer treatment, a period of unemployment, a divorce or a diagnosis, and posts about their struggles on Facebook, by all means support them there. If they are using social media to seek kinship and encouragement that can be a healthy coping skill.

If your real life friend is going through these things also consider a phone call, visit, a casserole, or hug. But that's a subject for another blog post.

Any empathic person will be moved by a new Facebook friend's struggle with domestic abuse, a child's diagnosis, or a financial setback.

Deep friendships have been formed around struggle particularly if you yourself have experienced something similar.

But be careful about reaching out if you don't know the person well. I've learned the hard way that hardship does not always elevate an individual. I've been a virtual cheerleader, kept vigil through people's follow up scans, encouraged people to seek help, only to find out later that, sick or not, the person was essentially a jerk.

And as unsavory as this is to report, people will sometimes make up stuff and post it on Facebook just for attention. That is a serious mental illness in which you don't need to get mixed up.

Heed These Red Flags
Public unfriending and shaming
Micro-complaining takes up the majority of status updates
Black and white, rigid thinking
Combative questioning and comment style
Lack of healthy boundaries
Excessive attention seeking
Grossly non-reciprocal Facebook relationship
Excessive TMI
Threatens to leave Facebook but never does
Suspected lying or fabricating
Something doesn't "feel right" and you can't put your finger on why.

I Know My Wall Is Weird
I have 21 separate photography series I post on a weekly schedule. I also share this blog. For one entire year I took a photograph of my dinner and posted a description. These are artistic things. These are weird things. I get that.

I post these weird, artistic things in addition to the more usual stuff. Pictures of my family. An occasional selfie. My Christmas tree.

I share some political stuff.

It's a lot.

Here's the thing, though. I'm a generous Facebook friend. I share friends’ art, blogs, crowdfunding requests and petitions. I pray for people. I encourage people. I exclaim over people's kids, home renovations, and accomplishments. People who aren't freaks remember and appreciate this.

But even so, I know I'm sharing a lot of photography of weeds, trash, nearly dead flowers, odd parts of NYC and crumbling Mid-century modern architecture.

I won't apologize for it. But if it's a bit much for you, I invite you to unfollow me. You could even unfriend me. But if you do either of these things, please do it quietly. If I find out later you unfriended me, I will probably block you. Because if we aren't friends anymore, why in God's name would I want to see your posts anyway?

You might also enjoy:
Modern Narcissus

I Will Say The Wrong Thing

Advice for Myself: Don't Negotiate with Crazy

Modern Narcissus

Today it's you. There's always been you and others like you. Recently, and stretching way back.

I'm smart.  I've avoided some of you. They threw up red flags. Or I was paying better attention then. In other words, I don't fall for it every time.

When I'm savvy, I know which one of you is friend material and who is only good for some fun on social media or at a party. Because people like you are always fun.

I know who to make excuses with, whom not to be one-on-one with, who is charming with an edge. When I know I'm being manipulated, I'm immunized.

Then there are the other times. Maybe I get together with you when our mutual friends aren't around. We exchange email addresses. We take it up a notch.

We share some laughs and a confidence. There's two ways it goes bad.

There's the slow burn. Something doesn't feel right. It's a flower blooming, only ugly. It happens gradually and I never get to see the unfurl. I put the puzzle together as clues come in.

There's the quick scorch. I figure you out in a flash. Instead of the pieces connecting methodically over time, I'm hit over the head with you.

Once I have you figured out, whether it's the fast way or the slow way, the next few hours will feel like crap.

I'm pretty disappointed in myself for not heading it off before.  Here's what softens my critique.

One is that I picked it up when I did. I could just as easily be commenting on your post, meeting you at Shake Shack or giving out unilateral support. Now is infinitely better than never. Or later.

You have no shortage of friends, so it isn't just me.

Social media can make the sifting harder, but I'm getting wise to that. You and your brethren are putting up signposts.

You're good at what you do. It's easy for you. This is your stock and trade, your shining talent, your decathlon. Nature, nurture or a freak accident made you this way, and that's how you'll stay. I speculate then stop. It's useless.

I inventory what happened and say I'll know better next time. And often I do. It's important to mention that.

But there will be a next time. You're all cut from the same cloth but you come in a dizzying array. You're all viruses. You morph.

Still, I found out not long ago that there's a name for what you are. So I slap the label on you. It's not personal. It is what it is. And it helps.

That is when things turn cordial between you and me.

There is no fanfare. No recriminations. There's no conversation or long goodbye either.

I wait. I'm patient for the moment, an easy opportunity, predictable as rain. You become absorbed, rapt either in yourself, or someone else. I steal away, on tiptoe, the trained dancer that I am and the one I've become.

I've turned the tables.  You're the mark now. You'll never even know what happened.

If you could craft the words, you'd say you miss seeing your reflection in me. But if you were capable of that, I wouldn't have such  a problem with you.

You might also enjoy:

Talking With Me About Stimulant Medication

I Will Say The Wrong Thing
The Best Thing Someone Never Said To Me

Blue About Gold

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Ashley was a healthy child just like yours for six years before her leukemia diagnosis. If you think that Childhood Cancer can’t happen to your child or your family you are sadly mistaken. Childhood Cancer is not rare. Help spread awareness. Go Gold!

These are not the actual words of any one individual. It is a composite of many statements I have seen in my news feeds on Facebook and Twitter, shouted in rallies, and mailed to me in fundraising letters. Names have been changed. Words have been changed.  I re-worked it but I didn't write it. I wouldn't write it.

The rest of this writing is mine. I am addressing this to parents of healthy kids. Your kid doesn't have cancer. None of your kids ever had cancer. You are not a bereaved mom or dad. You are a regular parent doing more or less the best you can.

I'm giving you a heads up in case you see something like this in your newsfeed or inbox or your snail mail. I'm showing you this now because you might hear something similar on TV. Childhood cancer is making the rounds.

The Childhood Cancer community might seem like one big cohesive group. The truth is that childhood cancer advocacy is made up of individuals. As such, I often agree with other voices in this community. But sometimes I disagree.

This is one of those disagreeing times. There are a lot more days in September. If I didn't say something now, I’d be losing my mind until October, when some of the more vocal childhood cancer people start begrudging the breast cancer people their success.

The statement above is hitting below the belt.

Don't go there. Don't take it to heart.

If you want to join my family in Times Square this September, you are invited. They're lighting it gold for September.

If you want to wear a yellow shirt or a gold ribbon, I'd be thrilled. If you take a moment to remember Jacob or kids like him, that means a lot. You can make a donation here and feel good about kids with cancer getting the best possible care.

If you want to organize a fundraiser with your kids' school or at work, let us know. We can help you get started.

If you want to help kids with cancer by all means do so.

It is possible - but not probable - that your child may get cancer. It is true that Jacob was healthy until he wasn't. No one can say which kid will get cancer.

Childhood cancer is not one big disease. It's actually a lot of different cancers under an umbrella. "Find a cure for childhood cancer" sounds oddly inaccurate to me. Finding cures for medulloblastoma, ALL, Wilm's tumor and neuroblastoma is more like it.

The chances of Jacob being diagnosed with his particular cancer type were approximately one  in 4,500. When you factor in his age at diagnosis, the unusual presentation, and other features, he may have been the only child in the world with his exact diagnosis at that exact time.

Numbers are numbers until it hits home. Once Jacob was diagnosed, the situation was 100 percent.

I'm not going to get into numbers for childhood cancer in general. Even one is too many.

But the odds are still overwhelmingly in your favor. The child you wished for, the one who is toddling around, the one starting school, the one starting college is probably not going to be diagnosed with childhood cancer.

Most likely, when all is said and done, if you're reading this now, cancer is going to happen to someone else's kid.

So if you want to help - a donation, a fundraiser - hell, a thumbs up - do it altruistically, or because of some other kid, my kid, me, or an idea. People help other people all the time.

You have my permission to put fear about childhood cancer touching your children out of your mind. It is unfair and unnecessary to ask you to go there.

Here's the thing. I'm different from you. My child had cancer. But I'm also the same.

I have two other kids. These kids are healthy. They are teenagers. They've made it this far. They're both doing great. There are no guarantees. But I am so hopeful.

When I see a post or promotion asking for my help and there is urgency because my child might be next then I know I am being manipulated in the most egregious way. I received a snail mail from St. Jude to this effect. I took the free address labels and ripped up the letter.

I am a childhood cancer activist. But I am fair. I won't use Jacob's memory to scare and coerce people with healthy kids.

My yellow ribbon is borne out of heartache and loss. That said, my September gold comes with a responsibility and positive mission.  We all have choices about what to do with our portion of that gold ribbon. Here's what I'm doing with mine.

You can join Jeremy and I along with Hope & Heroes in Times Square, which is lighting gold in honor of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month on September 17th.

Camp Sunshine invites families touched by Childhood Cancer and bereaved families to camp, for fun, fellowship and support. Donate here.

I’m really inspired by the work  - and fashion - Bravehoods is engaged in.

This image is a thorn in my side and is making the rounds.

Awareness, targeted research, and funding save lives. Sour grapes about breast cancer success doesn’t.

You may be interested in:

Awareness Matters

Hotdogs

Rubric 

The Day I Forgot My iPhone

I left my apartment early in the morning to go somewhere with Noah. After getting on the subway, I was dismayed to find that my iPhone was missing. Then soon after, I became dismayed that I was dismayed to find my iPhone missing.

I told myself to calm down. For one thing, I still had my iPad. I wouldn't be caught for the next four hours with no electronics.

The iPhone probably hadn't been lost or stolen between home and the train. I'd have to be seriously out off it not to notice a phone dropping out of my bag. No one had sidled up beside Noah and myself. There were no crowds or diversions. The opportunities to steal my phone were non-existent to anyone but David Blaine.

I took a few deep breaths, stopped rifling and started writing a blog post while riding the train. I also used my iPad to email Jeremy about the iPhone as soon as there was WiFi available.

Soon Noah and I reached our destination. I prepared to go through the metal detector. Noah and I were not at the airport. We were not visiting a family member in jail. We were going through security at Noah's new high school. They want to make sure that people aren't trying to bring knives or guns into the building.

It was annoying how I kept feeling around for the iPhone when presented with the little basket. Finally I put my keys in, and fit the iPad in as best I could.

I dropped off Noah at his Flash Animation summer workshop. Then I went to the post office to mail Hannah a care package at camp. Finally, I proceeded to Starbucks.

It was striking how many times I was reminded that I did not have my iPhone. I was excited to learn that Noah's mid century school building has a mosaic created by Hans Hoffman in 1958. I was unable to photograph this mosaic. Additionally, I was unable to photograph an interesting tangled web of machinery and materials being used for street repair. I was unable to photograph some fetching peeling shutters, weeds covered in dust, trash piled at jaunty angles and a quirky display at the post office.

This experience was less stressful than I would have anticipated. Noting the beauty around me without capturing it became a kind of meditative experience. Notice. Let go. Notice. Let go. And so on.

I was unable to text anyone, which forced me to think about how often I text people. It forced me to email or Facebook message folks. I did not miss the capability to actually speak with people, as I did not want to talk with anyone anyway.

As I parked myself at the Starbucks near Noah's school and noted that it is very spacious and nice, I settled in for some work. I was somewhat annoyed to notice that Jeremy had not responded to my email yet, even though it had been almost two hours since I'd sent it. I composed the following twitter update and posted that from my iPad:

 My family is extremely plugged in. Scrabble, Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter. Except when I'm trying to reach them. Then people are off the grid.

As it turns out, this was unfair. That is because Jeremy was very much on the grid when it came to me. He had emailed me back in a very timely fashion. Although the Starbucks was beautifully air conditioned, had ample seating and a lovely vibe, their WiFi was a tad slow that day. I heard some customers talking about it. I then joined in the chatter about the slow WiFi.

I also participated in a discussion about a New York Times article about potential ethical issues surrounding doctors displaying photographs of their patients. The other customers and I all felt the same way. We do not care if other people know that our children go to the pediatrician or the orthodontist. When we send our doctors holiday cards featuring our children, we would like to see these holiday cards displayed along with those of the other patients.

Once the chit chat was over and the email received, I also learned that Jeremy had used the Find My iPhone function to determine that the iPhone was indeed at home. This meant I could stop thinking about the possibility of a magician stealing my phone.

Once finished with that, he then decided it would be fun to use the same app to track my movements with my iPad. He was able to locate me walking about the area previously known as Hell's Kitchen but now called Clinton. He clearly saw me in the vicinity of a Pret A Manger, a fact I was later able to corroborate.

Noah finished his workshop at noon and the rest of my time without my iPhone was a mixture of inconvenient and enlightening. I was able to photograph the Hans Hoffman mosaic as well as the construction site the very next day. There were opportunities missed, but others gained. For one thing, the light was a lot better the next day. Also, some things that had looked interesting the day before had lost their luster. The wisdom that comes from being one day older will do that sometimes.

Facebook Pages

I try hard to be a good Facebook friend. I'm not one of those people who posts a bunch of stuff that people like, but then refuse to like anyone else's posts. That's selfish. I'm not that kind of Facebook friend.

I have a lot of Facebook friends. I've also liked all of my Facebook friends' pages. When my Facebook friend invites me to like their page, I show them I'm a good Facebook friend by liking their Facebook page. It's only right.

I've liked pages of Facebook friends' beautiful art, music and writing. I've liked pages Facebook friends created for their pets, family reunions, adoptions, fundraisers, and vacations. I follow Facebook friends' blogs. That's because Facebook friends follow other Facebook friends' blogs.

My main criticism of some Facebook pages is that there is just not enough action on them. I liked your Facebook page because I'm a good Facebook friend and I want to know what's going on with your bathroom renovation. There's a blogger I like who must be busy because she hasn't posted for a while, and now I'd appreciate an update about her ex-boyfriend.

If you're reading this and noticing I haven't liked your page, it's probably just an oversight. Go ahead and invite me again.

Sometimes I like friends of friends Facebook pages. If a friend of a friend invites me to like their Facebook friend's page, I like it. Sometimes if a page looks interesting and I don't know that person, I will like that page too. Just from it being in my newsfeed.

If I read a really good book, I'll go out of my way to see if that author has a Facebook page or blog. I really want to see what that person has to say when they are not writing a book. I also want to be among the first to know when they have written a new book so I can put it on hold at the library before everyone else.

Some of my Facebook friends get upset when Facebook friends haven't liked their Facebook pages. My Facebook friend has invited their Facebook friends to like their page, and for whatever reason, these other Facebook friends that are not me, have not liked it. Then my Facebook friend becomes so upset that they post about that on Facebook, without mentioning any of the Facebook friends by name.

My first response is that the Facebook friend who is upset needs some new Facebook friends who really know how to be a Facebook friend.

The last time this happened to a Facebook friend, it got me thinking rather deeply about  Facebook pages.

I do not keep a tally about who has liked my Facebook page Non-Fiction Living or Karen is 50! Facebook pages. I just go about my life, doing my writing and collages, and having my 50th birthday party.

Some good friends like my page. Some good friends don't like my page. Some strangers like my page. Some friends secretly like my page, but don't want anyone else to know they like it so they don't like it in a Facebook way. So then they tell me how much they like my Facebook page when they see me in person. All of this is good. Whatever is happening is what's supposed to be happening.

But if you are keeping a tally, and you are upset with some particular people for not liking your Facebook page, then I'm going to ask you to go to a quiet place within yourself. You have some serious thinking to do.

I would like you to do an honest assessment. Have you been a good Facebook friend? When the friends you are mad at have invited you to like their pages, have you done so? Or have you ignored their Facebook page invitations and even some of their regular Facebook posting while focusing exclusively on your own Facebook page?

If you have exhibited some one sided Facebook behaviors, I suggest that you take a few minutes to creep the offending Facebook friend's wall. Go around liking some things. And, for the love of God, like their page. Share some of their good stuff. Issue a new invite. Then wait a few days.

If they ignore your page invite again, then you have a decision to make. You can keep them as a Facebook friend, but every once in a while post something cryptic about them. This will generate some likes and comments from your other Facebook friends and possibly more traffic to your Facebook page.

If your feelings are really hurt, then you can un-friend them. Some of my Facebook friends do this for various reasons. They call it cleaning house, and un-friend a bunch of people while telling the Facebook friends that are still left about the experience.

Whenever a Facebook friend does this, I always say the same thing. Now you have more time to pay attention to me.

The exception to this is when, in spite of being a good Facebook friend, I am the one un-friended. Then the person who did the un-friending will have more time to pay attention to the Facebook friends they did not un-friend. In this case, that person could set up the best Facebook page ever, and I'm never going to follow it. Even if it features DIY storage solutions for small spaces or stuff about Princess Diana.

The other thing you can do is have a conversation with the person who has not liked your Facebook page about them not liking your Facebook page. I added this idea at the end, because to be honest, I almost didn't think of it.