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  • Day #1. I like the idea of keeping a daily diary on Cowbird, a sort of chronicle of the last days, well, not specifically the last days, but I'm in the last part of my life on this earth and I must acknowledge my age now. It's an excuse for lots of things and it's a blessing too. My family longevity has not been too great so far. My father died at 39 of lung cancer having survived WWII, the Polish invasion, the Russian Gulag, a trek through Northern Africa, and Monte Cassino. Light up another cigarette... My mother died at the hands of an anesthesiologist when she was 52, and my sister at 46 of breast cancer. So, I figure I'm cruising easy at 60. SInce my Italian aunts have all lived into their 90's, I plan to at least see parts of the world I've not been to yet. A new one every year. So many places to go and see and smell and photograph.

    Diary now: my day, today, begins like most others. Up at 4:50 to meditate and then out the door by 6 to miss the traffic into Cambridge to my job at a small biotech. It's 7:15 am and I am seated at my desk. Lots to do, but I am looking at the stories that were posted overnight on Cowbird. My view is widened by the window into the world that my fellow travelers provide to me, inside their minds and through their lenses. I drink my coffee in a mug made for me by an Israeli potter whom I tutored in English while he got his doctorate in psychology, and I look at my "sassy" rock that reminds me that I have a voice, unlike the silent child my mother raised. Photos of the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho warriors that grace the pages of our book and screenplay watch over me as I dedicate my best awake hours to a presentation and a clinical trial meeting and then back to Cowbird and a green apple for my lunchtime tonic, a respite from the work day. I will look at the photos of those whose audiences I've joined and learn more about the people whose photos sustain me through this work day. Another cuppa joe and on to the PowerPoint slides.
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