I don't remember how old I was when I made my first mix tape.  I'm sure I was young, in elementary school.  The tape itself was probably taken from my father's collection.  I know it involved recording songs off the radio, probably by putting the tape recorder right next to the speaker or my little transistor radio. The beginnings of the songs were cut off and a voice drowned out the end by the station's call letters.  The tape included all of my favorite songs at the time, and I spent a good many hours dancing around my bedroom and singing into a hairbrush while listening to it.

As I grew older, not much changed.  As my methods and technologies became more advanced and my collection expanded, I continued to make mixes of my favorite music.  I do it to this day - which is how I ended up with a copy of Cassette from My Ex. 

My friend Clara and Tom, the recipients of many of my compilations, gave me this book as a gift.  In it, people share precious mix-tapes they received from love interests over the years.  The playlists act as a time capsule, capturing a moment, communicating a mood.  The mixes vary wildly, some include artwork and well-planned song orders.  Some consist of entire albums or artists with hastily scrawled messages.  For whatever reason, over the years these little gems have remained in collections.  They represent a time when feelings could be conveyed with music, when hours were spent driving around in the woods.  They are tangible forms of nostalgia. 

I should state from the get-to that I am not a foodie.  I appreciate the effort that goes into a good meal, and appreciate fresh, wholesome ingredients.  More times than not, I opt to make my own food rather than order take-out or eat in a restaurant.  But this is mostly borne out of laziness, and a lack of caring.  It's cheaper and easier for me to throw together some rice with vegetables and tofu than it is for me to decide what I want from a menu.  I'm bound to enjoy my simple meal more, as I make what I'm craving at the moment. Combined with the fact that it saves money and I like to know exactly what is in my food, eating in really does prove to be the best option.

Not that I never eat out, I'm not a complete freak.  Last night for example, I craved pizza.  I have tried to make pizza, but that I make only leaves me hungry for the real thing. For the most part, my meals come out of my own kitchen.  In a city where food of every kind can be found on every street corner (almost literally), I do not fall into the norm. Manhattan grocery stores are prohibitively expensive; carrying grocery bags for blocks is not enjoyable; and the average kitchen size in the five boroughs matches that of a half-bath in most parts of the country.  Eating out in New York is also part of the culture.  The reconnaissance missions to get lunch, provide a nice break during the workday.  Dates, birthday parties and most celebrations revolve around eating out.  It's how we bond and get to know each other.

Given my tendencies toward eating in, I was thrilled to see my lifestyle validated by Cathy Erway in her book, The Art of Eating In: How I Learned to Stop Spending and Love the Stove.  In it, Cathy documents the two years she went on a self-imposed restaurant fast.  Now, I do have to admit that this is not a revolutionary idea - New York is an expensive city, and many people (including myself) have found that refraining from restaurants and take-out is the quickest way to save money.  What makes the book unique is that she takes it on and talks about.  During this time she does not deny herself any food experience.  She hones her cooking skills, experimenting with new ideas and perfecting techniques.  She finds new social outlets with home cooking, attending supper clubs and cook-offs.  She finds a new community of people who are creative in the ways they express passion for food.

And this is what makes the book most compelling.  New York offers something for everyone, be it an experience, a type of food or a lifestyle, and Cathy proves this.  Instead of denying herself the restaurant experience, she opened herself to a whole world of new ones.  She proves that the old addage "closing one door opens another"  remains true in New York.

To read more about Cathy's culinary adventures, you can also check out her blog Not Eating Out in New York.

It's mid-month and I think I'm working on a theme.  A few months ago, after watching Basquiat, Sid & Nancy and The Doors I started wondering about this whole "tortured artist" thing.  Sure, there are a number of musicians, artists and writers that I revere who lived on the edge of darkness; but I started to wonder if that was actually necessary for the creative process. So I started thinking about the people who inspire me the most, and have spent this month learning more about the rise to fame and what makes them who they are.  David Bowie is one example. 

In his book Bowie: A Biography, Marc Spitz chronicles the life of this music icon.  From his humble to childhood through his many personas, he interviewed over 100 people close to David Bowie (though, it should be noted, not Bowie himself).  What I found perhaps most shocking - not the tales of rampant sex and drug use - was the fact that Bowie had a number of flops before becoming famous.  He released record after record that showed no sales until after his fame.  Through this, he kept going.

Like with the Eddie Izzard biography, Bowie's story echoes the "don't give up" mantra.  Sure there was embarrassing rejection and some unsuccessful experiments.  There were periods where the weight of creative passion got the better of him.  But he continues to persevere with this passion, releasing and performing music according to his own standings.

So once again, the message seems to be "stick to your guns, kid" even in the face of adversity.

I didn't know a lot about Confucius before reading this book.  I knew that he was a Chinese philosopher who's teachings have been passed down through the ages.  Those little pieces of wisdom from fortune cookies?  Not really his.

Fortunately, Yu Dan's book Confucius from the Heart acts as a Confucius 101.  Written to make the philosophy and its teaching accessible, they also prove to be applicable in every day life.  Early on, the author explains that the reader "should not think that the wisdom of Confucius if lofty and out of reach..." The basic principles are easy to understand, and it's in their simplicity that they are most effective.

Confucius teaches how to achieve happiness by attaining balance and harmony.  This harmony exists not only within ourselves, but also with the world and the people in it.  Having balance with the world provides and inner strength.  This strength helps us deal with the changes and disappointments that may come in life with tranquility.

The philosophy bears a close resemblence to Buddhism.  You may have read these lessons before, they are filled with common sense.  I find that sometimes it's nice to have the positive reinforced; to restate what we know.  Being told that you are capable of harmony and happiness, that you control these aspects of your life,  adds fuel to my inner fire.

Joe Strummer is one of my heroes.  Up until recently I haven't known all that much about him.  Listening to his music I felt that he wa a poet who stood for justice, a Bob Dylan of the punk rock age.  When his solo career took off about a decade ago (eek I'm getting old) I saw him play, which was something close to a religious experience.  There was such a sincerity in his stage performance, both commanding and engaging.  When he passed away in 2005, I was left dumb struck.  Though I had never met him, I felt such a connection with him through his music and performances, it was as though I had lost someone close to my heart.

It didn't dawn on me until recently that I knew virtually nothing about the man I so revered.  Perhaps part of me needed to keep him up on a pedestal, being happy with him as an icon rather than a person.  However, when I saw Redemption Song: The Ballad of Joe Strummer, curiosity took hold.

In this biography, Chris Salewicz is an amazingly detailed account of the musician's life.  Interviewing friends and family, and sharing his own personal accounts he chronicles the life of John "Joe Strummer" Mellor from his early family life through his impressive career.  Through anecdotes from the people in his life, you (as the reader) gains perspective on who this man was and the influences that shaped his life and music. 

I have to admit, finishing this book was a little bitter-sweet.  We all know how it ends.  I was left with sadness of the loss of this man, who had touched so many in his life.  It feels that he left before his time, that he had so much more he wanted to do.  But most importantly, I came to understand my hero ... that he was in fact human.