New York Academy of Medicine (Thursday Doors)
bending
backwards, we lose
our bearings once again–
the door will no longer open–
inside
is dark,
cluttered with misinformation–
deceitfulness veiled in
shadows—misplaced
faith, trust
I first noticed this building because of the beautiful bronze grills on the windows along Fifth Avenue, with the stone figures and Latin inscriptions. A sign on the corner told me it was the home of the New York Academy of Medicine.
Founded in 1847, NYAM was originally housed on West 43-44 Streets. It moved to its present location in 1926. Designed by York and Sawyer, who trained with McKim Mead and White, Wikipedia describes the building as having an “eclectic style”. I’m not sure if I like the randomly placed dark stone stripes, but it does give it a distinctive look.
The bronze entrance doors on 103rd Street have a handsome arch frame with lion guardians. Above the door are representations of Asclepius, the god of medicine, and his daughter, the goddess of medicine, Hygieia.
The Latin inscriptions above the doors and windows of the building are from Cicero, Hippocrates, Juvenal, Seneca, and Virgil.
Conceived by a group of New York metropolitan area physicians as a voice for public health, the ideas of the Academy were a precursor to our present Departments of Health. The first funding came from the Carnegie Corporation and the Rockefeller Foundation.
Originally focusing on improving the living conditions of the poor, NYAM has become a center for health education and improving public health both in New York and throughout the world. Its current membership includes doctors, nurses, and anyone working to maintain and improve public health.
The NYAM Library contains one of the largest and most significant collections of medical and public health information in the world. Open to the public since 1878, the Library also houses many rare books, including the original writings of Freud and the Edwin Smith Papyrus, an ancient Egyptian medical text.
My poem is a mirror cinquain for Yvette’s Tanka Tuesday prompt where she asks us to consider beginnings and endings. What kind of future is our government beginning by rejecting the information discovered through scientific and medical research? How many lives will be ended prematurely, or not even given a chance to begin, as a result?
You can read more about the work of The New York Academy of Medicine at their website, here.
And be sure to check out all the doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
The Magic of Light
This week the Kick-About explores the art of James Turrell.
Painting this weekend
I picked up a paintbrush this weekend. I haven’t posted here since March. No excuses. I haven’t done any art work since then (with a few exceptions). Kerfe’s wonderful posts keep this blog going.
Not sure what I’m doing in these other than messing some paint around and glueing stuff on.
I did this one a couple of months ago.
I tried to do a couple of portraits of my co-worker’s mom who died at age 49 last week. Portraits are not my forte but I try.
Still doing clam shells. I have a box of them.
I apologize for my absence on Word Press and humbly offer this recent work. My best to all you wonderful people.
Nina
June 2025
she dreams of
rippled water lazily
reflected in shadowed
sun, long hours humming
behind, stretching
out before
A seox for Tanka Tuesday, where Willow is the host this week.
Picture Yourself (Thursday Doors Writing Challenge)
Alone with creation
my mind processes the color the form the medium–
I do not include any part of the world outside of
the tentative frame
Do I enter?
sometimes maybe always—but I do not always find
what I seek on the speculative journeys my mind takes
looking for essence
Perhaps vision is
only an accident, a chance intersection with the singing
portal–the one that exists inside the current of
the cosmic chord
it’s why you love every copy of nothing
I wanted to squeeze in one final entry to the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge–I could not resist the door above provided by Resa which immediately sang to me.
Directions (Thursday Doors Writing Challenge)
It’s no use he said. I can’t tell you where you need to go. That place is somewhere deep inside of you. Only you know where it can be found.
Stop hiding from it. Open those doors instead of just pounding pounding pounding as if they were locked.
windows reflect sun
light—guardians flank threshold–
your life says come in
Of course I was immediately attracted to the guardians of Darlene’s door. But the sign was also intriguing. How many times do we create barriers for ourselves that don’t in fact exist?
The Thursday Doors Writing Challenge, hosted by Dan Antion, is open for a few more days, until May 31. Anyone can join in–you can see all the doors available to inspire you here.
Memorial Day 2025
time passes
dust and bones haunting
echoed air
A repost of some words and images in memory of all those who fought and died in all of the world’s many wars. May we one day have no need to ask anyone for such a sacrifice.
The Visitor (Thursday Doors Writing Challenge)
Is that a knock at the door?
The bell has never worked–
now the door is pounding
as is my heart.
No one comes
to this door anymore.
“Who is it?”
A voice emerges in sounds
that form no words
I can understand.
Have I forgotten any language
but the one inside my head?
Fear keeps the door closed.
“Who do you want?”
Silence, then more sounds.
Angry.
Will they try to kick the door
open, like that crazy lost soul
years ago who thought
I had stolen his home?
(Where is he now?
I wonder with sudden alarm)—
But whoever or whatever
this is does not reply
with force, or any other thing.
After a while I sense only
the empty street. Waiting.
For what, who? I wait, too–
with the door, the street,
the intractable world.
Dan’s door photo reminded me of what the world felt like during the early months of Covid. I actually did experience an incident similar to this. I was newly moved into an apartment (in February 2020–that’s the door in the second photo) and knew no one in the building at all. Perhaps they had the wrong apartment, or were looking for the former resident. In any case, they never came back.
The whole city was eerily quiet for a long time.
The collages are from a series I did in the 1980s. Many of them contained doors.
The Thursday Doors Writing Challenge is open for the entire month of May, hosted by Dan Antion. Anyone can join in–you can see all the doors available to inspire you here.
Limitations (Thursday Doors Writing Challenge)
Sometimes I lie on the floor and consider what I would see if I walked instead on the ceiling. So much more below me than above—where would my head be then? Not in the clouds–or would the sky, too, be forced underground, the earth heavy, pushing on my feet—but what about gravity? Where would it be located? How would it work? The possibilities seem too complex to even contemplate, let alone understand. Perhaps if my apartment turned upside down I would lose all materiality. I would become merely a concept, weightless, waiting to be defined.
beside themselves–how do
thoughts squeeze into spaces too small
to fit comfortably?
I was inspired by the photo provided by Maureen for the Thursday Doors Writing Challenge, to consider how we fit into the spaces in our lives. I do actually imagine myself walking on the ceiling when I’m lying on the floor looking up. And my mind follows its own paths through the rabbit hole from there.
The Thursday Doors Writing Challenge is open for the entire month of May, hosted by Dan Antion. Anyone can join in–you can see all the doors available to inspire you here.
method two madness 
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