Tag: love

creativity

In the pause: Opining on pizza and why I love New York City in the New York Times today

Christa Avampato

I had the chance to talk about 2 of my favorite subjects in the New York Times: pizza and my love for New York City.

“I would take a New York City slice, served piping hot out of the oven onto a generic white paper plate as I walk around the city, over any other slice anywhere in the world. It’s not just the pizza, it’s the spirit of the city embedded in it that makes all the difference. We all have our preferences. And for me, New York is the place for pizza, and for life.”

Check out the full piece at https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/16/nyregion/new-york-today-chicago-pizza-vs-the-new-york-slice.html?_r=0.

creativity

In the pause: How to know what to write

Christa Avampato

“Write what should not be forgotten…” ~Isabel Allende

I’m in the midst of writing some difficult passages in Emerson’s second book. There are characters in the book that have been through terrible times. They’re reliving those times, explaining them to Emerson because it will make a difference to her journey. And I hope it will make a difference to readers, and the journeys of readers. I hope their resilience, determination, and love for life inspires us all to be the best people we can be. I hope it makes us kind, grateful, and resolved to build a better world for ourselves and for each other. Life is tough; together we are tougher.

creativity

In the pause: A life in moments

Christa Avampato

unnamed“We do not remember days. We remember moments.” ~Cesare Pavese

I passed by this sign on the street about a month ago, and it’s message hit me so hard my eyes teared up. I was especially struck by this line: “In true New York fashion, friendships were created here that crossed all barriers, and allowed strangers to become family. Like its namesake in Paris, our Barbès became a melting pot, one that celebrates all that is good in New York City and all that is good in America.”

A month later, I’m still think about this message to take a moment to have a moment that we will treasure long after the moment has passed. This is a note of thanks from the owners and staff of Barbès Restaurant in midtown that’s closing because the building is being knocked down. This happens a lot in New York. We tear things down. We build new things. People arrive. People leave. The constant turnover of places and people is a way of life here.

But something about this particular note hit me hard. The sentiment, gratitude, and deep sadness of the situation was so authentic in this simple sign taped to the window. And despite the sorrow at the end of its life, there was joy and gratitude. I looked in, and saw many people of all different ages, colors, and faiths enjoying a meal there. They were having a moment, made all the more poignant by the fact that this place would no longer exist in a very short time. It would live only in their memories. And I think that’s the very best we can to do with our time—to create memories that will outlast us by welcoming people into our lives.

 

 

 

creativity

In the pause: A Love Letter to New York

Christa Avampato

Though I didn’t move here until after college, living in New York City has been the dream of my life since I was a kid. And as difficult (and expensive!) as it can be to live here, there’s not a day that I’m not grateful for the creativity that lives and breathes around every corner. In my book, I showcase a lot of that magic found on, above, and below these streets. That theme will continue through Emerson’s series. Her story began here, blossoms here, and will end here (8 books from now.) She’ll travel to far-flung lands, find herself in wild situations, and meet dozens of people who can best be described as true characters. And as much as she’ll love those travels and adventures, she’ll always find her way back here to New York like so many of us do. Like a magnet, it draws us in. Once we’re in its orbit, it has us forever.

creativity

In the pause: Go on and love yourself

Christa Avampato

‘i love myself.’

the
quietest.
simplest.
most
powerful.
revolution.
ever.”

―Nayyirah Waheed

This poem is a powerful reminder of the magic that can happen in our lives when we really love who we are. It becomes a way to protect ourselves and also to let others in. When we love who we are, we are imbued with grace and confidence. Nothing can really hurt us if we love who we are. We defend, fight for, and nurture what we love. And here’s the best part: when you become a constant supporter of yourself and your dreams, you have so much more to offer to others.

creativity

In the pause: It’s time for happiness

Christa Avampato

“I stopped waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and lit that bitch up myself.” ~Anonymous

“Stop waiting for Friday, for summer, for someone to fall in love with you, for life. Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it and make the most of the moment
you are in now.” ~Unknown

“Never have a job that makes you wish for Friday and dread Monday.” ~Doc (Charlie) Rodgers, my former cowoker at Rollins College

My friend, Ria, sent me this first quote. It first made me laugh out loud, which I sorely needed. Then it quickly gave me more energy to keep going on my path. Why do we wait, or worse, think we’re undeserving? Of happiness. Of love. Of our dreams. Of living the most magical life we can imagine? Why do we settle for less than we want? Why do we accept and strive for patience instead of progress?

Too many of us get stuck in the trap of thinking a job is a job and happiness is something different, something we do somewhere else. It’s not. We should be happy and proud of the way we spend our time everywhere that time is spent. I refuse to compromise on that ideal. Our time is far too precious to do anything but.

I hope that today your life and work are touched with love and light, and that you will be able to give that to those around you everywhere you go—at work and at home, in your neighborhood, in a store, and on the subway or bus. Just imagine what kind of world we would live in if that were our guiding principle every day. There would be so much light that our tunnels couldn’t even contain all of it.

creativity

In the pause: A rEVOLution is rooted in love

Christa Avampato

You can’t have a rEVOLution without love. It’s tucked in there. Hidden. Spelled backward. Split between two syllables. But it’s not to be doubted. A great change requires a lot of love, care, and concern. Without those things, revolutions would never happen. We’d just continue on down the road we’re on, without any thought about where we’re going or why. A revolution is a change of heart, mind, and spirit. We accept and embrace the idea that we can no longer do what we’ve done, that we can’t and don’t want to go back to the way things were. Things must change, so we change. That’s what love can do—it can generate the greatest change possible. It can, and does, change us.

creativity

In the pause: Celebrating the publication of my book with hopeful messages hidden in New York City

Christa Avampato

The power of light—literally and metaphorically—is a main theme in my book, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters. I’ve been thinking of unique ways to celebrate the launch of the book in November and December that inspire and comfort people during the holidays. (The book launched on November 1st.) In true Emerson fashion, I’ll be leaving hidden messages of hope and light, resilience and love, all over New York City to celebrate the season. Think of them as something like little Easter eggs that could show up anywhere, because magic and messages are everywhere. We all need a little encouragement, right? Emerson’s the perfect person to provide it. More information soon…

creativity

In the pause: For the love of animals

Christa Avampato

I met a man in the park this weekend who was riding his skateboard while his collie mix dog was trotting along beside him. They stopped at the water fountain where Phin was grabbing a drink and he wanted to say hello to them. The man bent down and stroked Phin’s ears.

“I had a dog exactly like him when I was a child. They are such precious little things…” and then he stopped as he got choked up. His eyes got teary, said thank you, and went on his way. Phin watched him for a minute or so until the man and his dog were out of sight.

It was so clear that despite the many years since this man’s dachshund had passed away, he still loved and missed him. It’s something everyone who’s ever loved an animal can relate to—these furry, cuddly pals wiggle their way into our hearts, take up residence, and never leave. We remember them long after they’re gone, grateful that they spent the short amount of time they had on this plane with us. We’re lucky to have known and loved them.

creativity

In the pause: What I learned about writing by reading The Little Paris Bookshop

Christa Avampato

“With all due respect, what you read is more important in the long term than the man you marry, ma chère Madame.” ~Monsieur Perdu in The Little Paris Bookshop by Nina George

I fell in love with the book The Little Paris Bookshop on page one. I suppose what Monsieur Perdu is saying is that the right books can stick with us for a lifetime on our own terms, longer than most loves. When I think of it that way, I guess it is true, at least for some people.

Monsieur Perdu owns a bookshop in Paris, a peculiar one on a barge in the middle of the Seine that he consider a literary apothecary. He’s a book doctor, or at least a book pharmacist, prescribing books to heal whatever ails his customers. I read the first few pages of the book while crossing the East River on New York City’s B train for a meeting in Brooklyn to chase a dream. In that moment, I moved Monsieur Perdu’s barge to the East River and for me, he prescribed a book to bolster my confidence and stoke my courage.

It’s clear in these few pages that Monsieur Perdu has lost someone he loved, that he spends his evenings in an apartment that used to be filled with love, laughter, and a cat. Now it’s just him surrounded by his familiar neighbors of 20 years whose lives echo through the walls. They’ve loved and lost, too. All of them.

Though the story starts on a sad note, I smiled while reading it because the connection to the characters and the emotions it evokes are exactly what I want my novel, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, to do. I want readers to know Emerson as quickly as I came to know Monsieur Perdu. I want them to root for her to be okay, to be better than okay, to be her own savior. The Little Paris Bookshop shows me that this is possible, a goal worth striving for.