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A beautiful day in Boston with Christopher Columbus

Posted on November 7, 2024November 8, 2024 by Marissa

Christopher Columbus is happy today.

I could tell when I visited him.

Being a statue, he can’t exactly change his facial expression to reflect what he’s feeling. And I’m well aware that most people would say that he isn’t capable of feeling anything at all. But as someone who loves statues more than anything else in the world, and statues of Columbus in particular, I believe in the idea that a statue can feel happiness. Call me crazy, but I believe that on some level, Christopher Columbus knows about the election result and is pleased with it.

As mentioned above, I decided to visit Christopher today. I had been in a dark and negative headspace regarding his situation, as detailed in this blog post. But with the hope and lightness that the election result brought, I was in the mood to make another trip into the North End to see my favorite statue.

And I’m glad that I did so.

Before even boarding the train, I was beginning to regret my decision. It was one of those days that is relatively warm, but extremely windy. As an autistic person, this severely bothers my sensory sensitivities. Within the first few minutes of waiting on the train platform, I was frozen to the bone and in agony. I was wearing a light sweater due to the fact that the temperature (according to the weather app, at least) was 67 degrees, but I was soon wishing that I had worn a down parka and ski mask. After what felt like an eternity, the train arrived, but it apparently didn’t pull into the station correctly and had to back up a couple of feet, costing additional minutes. Finally, I was able to board the train and therefore to get a reprieve from the ice-cold wind.

Once in Boston, my way was blocked numerous times: by people plodding along the narrow sidewalk, by a chaotic intersection at which a truck was trying to turn but none of the cars would allow it to, and by a gaggle of tourists hanging out near the entrance to the Peace Garden of St. Leonard’s Church.

But once I stepped through the gate of Chris’s new home, the Peace Garden lived up to its name. Gentle music wafted through the air. The biting cold wind ceased. A wide brick path led through the garden, with a delicate-looking fence and elegant lanterns on either side, toward the entrance of the church. To my left were two statues: one of Jesus on the cross and the other of Mother Mary with children gathered around her. To my right were four statues: one of a saint with his arms raised in the air, one of a kindly-looking man surrounded by children, a gold-colored fellow with outstretched arms, and Chris. He stood tall with arms crossed over his chest, as always. Beautiful rosebushes had been planted around his pedestal. The trees cast shadows across his marble face, and their golden leaves drifted softly down to blanket the grass. The sun’s rays cast a warm glow over the peaceful scene.

A few people trickled into the church for a mass that was starting soon, but for the most part, the garden was deserted, allowing me to spend a few minutes with Chris undisturbed. I didn’t actually talk to him, because that would’ve made me look completely insane, but I admired him, took some photos, and sent my thoughts to him telepathically. (I guess that sounds kind of insane too, now that I think about it.)

Hi Chris, I greeted him. It’s me, Marissa. Do you remember me? I came back, like I promised I would. No matter where you go, I will always find you. I will always come back. I will never forget about you. Are you happy in this place? You look nice here. It is peaceful and beautiful. Did you hear the news? Do you feel happy about it?

As crazy as it sounds, I knew that he did remember me, and that he was happy, about both his home and the election results.

Once I had assured myself of this, I took a closer look at the church building itself, a mosaic displaying the names of its benefactors, and a new sculpture called the Noble Journey, which shows footprints of various sizes representing immigrants coming to America. And then I turned and walked slowly back down the brick path and into the bustling, congested streets of the North End.

Bye Chris, I thought as I looked back over my shoulder. I’ll be back. Until next time…

Here are some pictures that I took of Chris, his friends, some other things in the Peace Garden, and a couple of other miscellaneous pieces of public art in Boston:

You can view all of my pictures of Chris at St. Leonard’s here. This album also includes the pictures that I took when I visited him for the first time there in September, which I wasn’t in the right headspace to post about at the time.

Revere Beach Sand Sculpting Festival 2024

Posted on July 29, 2024 by Marissa

Last week, I visited and took photos of the sand sculptures at Revere Beach. A sand sculpting festival and competition takes place there every year in July. Due to my job which requires working on weekends, I wasn’t able to attend the festival itself, which took place Friday through Sunday. But I do enjoy looking at the sand sculptures, so I decided to visit them on Wednesday morning.

I was concerned that the sculptures would have deteriorated by that point, three days after they were built. I was also concerned that the beach would be windy, as it often is. As a person on the autism spectrum, I have sensory sensitivities to wind, which have become more severe in recent years, and can cause spending time outside to become excruciating. The wind was quite painful during the walk from my house to the train station, which boded ill. Plus, people began getting on my nerves during the commute by doing various annoying things such as invading my personal space, blocking my way, and getting onto the train before I had a chance to step off. I was starting to regret making the journey.

But as I crossed the bridge from the train station to the beach, I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was almost zero wind. The day was cloudy, cool, muggy, and still. I was equally pleased to find that the sand sculptures were in pristine condition. They had not deteriorated at all, and were magnificent to behold, as they are every year. They were located conveniently between the Wonderland and Revere Beach MBTA stations, making for an easy walk. Despite it being three days after the festival, there were lots of people milling about and admiring the sculptures, but not so many that it was impossible to move about freely or get good photos (as is often the case during the festival). Overall, it was a successful and pleasant experience, and I am glad that I went.

Among my favorites were the cat and mice, and the chameleon. Hopefully you enjoy the photos below:

You can view more photos on my photography website here.

Embracing imperfection

Posted on April 24, 2024April 24, 2024 by Marissa

As a person on the autism spectrum, I have a tendency to be a perfectionist. I tend to have a picture in my head of how the day is going to go, and tend to become very upset if things do not go according to how I pictured them. I struggle with being flexible, and tend to feel that if things do not go perfectly, then everything is a disaster and the day is ruined.

(Lately I had numerous instances of things getting messed up and not going according to plan, which I wrote about here.)

A couple days ago, however, I had some success with embracing imperfection.

It was a warm and sunny morning, and I decided to take a walk around the pond near my house. The trees were still blooming with beautiful white and pink flowers. After my camera had inexplicably decided not to work, I had done some troubleshooting, and I thought that I had fixed the problem. So I brought it along to take photos. Imagine my shock and dismay when, again, the shutter button refused to work, in exactly the same way it had earlier! I angrily trudged home and sulked around. But then, a little while later, I decided to return to the pond and take pictures with my phone.

Although I much prefer to use a “real” camera, it was better than nothing.

I enjoyed being outside in the beautiful weather and looking at the trees, flowers, ducks, geese, and trucks rumbling to and from the construction site at the top of the hill.

Farther away from my house, there is a park with a World War I memorial, which is decorated with different flowers depending on the season. I knew from seeing the park in passing that there were currently bright yellow daffodils and beautiful tulips planted there, but I hadn’t had time to actually stop and get close-up to take photos. A sufficient amount of time had gone by that I figured the daffodils would be wilted and sad-looking. But after my walk around the pond, I had extra time, so I decided to make the walk to the park anyways. To my surprise, the flowers, even though they weren’t in absolutely pristine condition, still looked beautiful.

And even though I was stuck using my phone as opposed to my “real” camera, I still got some pretty good photos.

The moral of the story: An imperfect day can still be a good one. “Plan B” is not as good as “Plan A,” but it is better than nothing, and it is certainly better than giving up on the day entirely.

Revere Beach sand sculpture photos (8/1/23)

Posted on August 6, 2023 by Marissa

Last weekend was the Revere Beach Sand Sculpting Festival. Due to my work schedule, I wasn’t able to go to the festival, but I decided to head to the beach on my day off to see if the sand sculptures were still there and if so, what condition they were in.

There had been severe rain on Saturday night, and unfortunately it really affected the sculptures. Some were so severely damaged that they were unrecognizable, others were largely intact, and most were somewhere in between these two extremes. Seeing them was both sad and cool at the same time. It was a poignant reminder of the impermanence of life.

Check out the photos below:

Poetry and photos from a snowy day and night

Posted on February 24, 2023 by Marissa

Wind whipping
Snow stinging my face
The sky a dull gray.
Slush soaking my feet
As plows lurch by.
The branches adorned in white
Make a beautiful scene,
Though I can barely look up to see them.

The snow begins again
As night falls.
Flakes waft gently down
And dance in the lights
Against the pitch black sky.
Puddles turned to ice,
My feet now dry.
Down by the pond,
The water is still.
The air, once bitter,
Carries an invigorating chill.
Gliding towards me,
A pair of geese.
They look quizzically
At this strange visitor,
Webbed feet gently paddling
As snowflakes settle on their backs.
Ducks follow close behind.
Eerie yet peaceful,
The world is mine.

The blizzard of 2022

Posted on January 29, 2022January 30, 2022 by Marissa

In this blog post, I will be taking a break from politics to focus on something less controversial but still interesting: weather!

Today I made a brief expedition outdoors into the “Blizzard of 2022.” As someone on the autism spectrum, I have particular sensitivities to wind, cold, and precipitation, which arguably makes going out into a blizzard potentially one of the dumbest things to do. However, I also enjoy photography and exploring and documenting the world around me. So I decided to venture out into the frozen tundra that is Malden, Massachusetts.

The thing that was most remarkable about today’s blizzard was the almost complete lack of visibility. From inside my house, I could barely see the (admittedly few) vehicles passing by on the street, something that hasn’t been the case during any previous snowstorm. As soon as I stepped outside, the wind almost literally hit me like a ton of bricks. It forced me to walk backwards down my driveway in order to avoid snow violently pelting my face. Fortunately, because of the direction the wind was blowing in, I was able to resume normal walking when I reached the end of the driveway.

Everything around me was white and/or gray, the only pops of color being street signs, traffic lights, a fire hydrant, a flag, and occasional red leaves still clinging to branches. As I made my way down the street, the snow for the most part was higher than the tops of my boots. Because of the vicious wind, the snow was much deeper in some places on the sidewalk than others. I tried, with mixed success, to step in the random places with relatively little snow in order to avoid snow getting into my boots and making my feet disgustingly wet and cold.

I passed through the large intersection where my house is located, and headed down the street past a playground, tennis courts, soccer field, baseball diamond, and cemetery, taking photos as I went. Very quickly, my fingers began to hurt because it was so cold, so I put gloves on.

Along the way, a few plow trucks passed, as well as the occasional car, but for the most part the landscape was eerily deserted.

I proceeded to the pond at the end of the street, surrounded by a park and wooded area. The pond itself was almost invisible in the blowing snow, but I took some photos of the view. I considered turning back at that point, but the sidewalk going around the pond had some relatively snow-free parts, either because someone had shoveled or because the wind had blown the snow away. So I followed it for a bit and took pictures of picnic benches, a trash can, and some trees.

By that point, my fingers were hurting even with the gloves, and a sudden, particularly violent gust of wind came out of nowhere and made me scream in pain, so I knew it was time to head home. Unfortunately, because I was now walking in the opposite direction than I had been before, I once again faced a situation where snow was being violently and ceaselessly whipped directly into my face. Because this is something that I find physically painful due to my sensory sensitivities, I opted to walk backwards along the sidewalk for most of my journey home. In addition to looking extremely strange, this made it difficult to navigate the uneven snow and, alas, resulted in more instances of accidentally stepping into really deep snow and getting my feet soaked.

As my luck would have it, the only person that I saw on my exploration was a guy shoveling his walkway, whom I passed while walking backwards and simultaneously muttering about how annoying it was that the wind was forcing me to walk backwards. Oops. Another interesting thing I noticed while walking home was that my footprints, left just a little while earlier, were almost completely gone! A testament to how much snow was coming down and how wildly it was blowing around.

By the time I got back to my house, my hands were numb, my face hurt, my feet were disgustingly wet and cold, and I was quite irritated at the wind and the fact that it had put me in the position of either walking backwards or being subjected to constant torture for my entire walk home.

Even though one would expect a blizzard to be cold and windy, the Blizzard of 2022 was even colder and windier than I expected. It was striking how deserted the streets and sidewalks were, and how severely visibility was affected. Overall, I guess I’m glad that I went. I am definitely happy to be indoors with a cup of (decaf) coffee, looking out the window at the plows doing their job and the snow glittering quietly on the ground.

Stop the Mandates rally in Boston

Posted on January 5, 2022January 6, 2022 by Marissa

Today I attended an event called the “Show Up Strong: Stop the Mandates” rally in Boston, MA. Several hundred people gathered outside the State House to protest against vaccine mandates in general, and the city of Boston’s vaccine mandate for restaurants, gyms, theaters, and sporting events in particular.

As a band played pro-freedom rock music, protesters lined both sides of Beacon Street, holding signs, waving flags, and chanting “Wu Has No Heart.” I held a sign that read, “My body my Choice / No vaccine mandates.” Starting a few minutes after noon, a variety of speakers addressed the crowd from the steps in front of the State House, including a state representative, a rabbi, the owner of a popular Italian restaurant, the chairman of the Constitution Party, a veteran and gym owner, a police sergeant who lost her job for opting against the vaccine, and an occupational therapist who lost her job for the same reason. The crowd of protesters was racially and politically diverse. Unsurprisingly, Gadsden flags, F— Biden flags, Trump signs, and “Let’s Go Brandon” apparel dotted the crowd, but there were also left-leaning types and signs containing the “A” for anarchy symbol. People of all races danced and chanted about love, truth, health, and freedom.

Numerous drivers honked their horns and gave the thumbs up from their vehicles as they drove past, including a UPS driver, a school bus driver, a taxi driver, and drivers from various food companies, a flower shop, HVAC companies, and construction companies. A pickup truck with signs saying “Impeach Biden” and “Impeach Warren” drove by several times, honking loudly to express support. Photographers and videographers from various news outlets captured images of the crowd, and a few police officers milled about.

The only aspect of the rally that I did not enjoy was the weather. As someone on the autism spectrum, I am particularly sensitive to cold, wind, and rain, and I considered not attending because the forecast called for exactly those things. A cold rain came and went throughout the afternoon, not enough of a downpour to drench anyone, but enough to make everything and everyone damp and shivering.

Shortly before 2:00, the protesters took to the streets, marching from the State House to City Hall (where Mayor Michelle Wu had decided to close the building and order staff to work from home) past Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market and on to the North End. Chanting “Let’s Go Brandon,” “Shame on Wu,” and “My Body, My Choice,” we took over the streets of Boston, forcing cars to stop and paying no attention to traffic lights. At the head of the procession were people with bullhorns, as well people holding a large banner that read, “Medical freedom: the new civil rights movement.” Along the way, people going about their business stopped to watch and take videos on their phones. Construction workers in bright yellow vests cheered, and old guys hanging out near the “Connah Store” clapped their hands. People peered down from the windows of apartment buildings, some flashing the thumbs up, some simply gawking in curiosity, and only one giving the middle finger. Along the way, we passed the statue of boxer Tony DeMarco. Noticing that someone had placed a mask on the statue’s face, one of the rally leaders promptly removed the mask and threw it on the ground.

At 2:30, we arrived at the Paul Revere statue in the North End, where we posed for a group photo and sang “America the Beautiful” and “The Star-Spangled Banner.” By the time the march concluded, I was shivering uncontrollably from the cumulative amount of time spent in the cold and rain, and my hands were numb. My sign, as well as numerous other people’s signs, was soaked, and the letters were starting to smudge. However, it would be a no-brainer to say that I was glad I went. All of the horrible things happening in the world have really been getting me down, particularly comments on social media saying that people like me are not welcome in Boston and that we should stay out of “their” city. Participating in this rally and march gave me the sense that I am not alone and that I do have a place in the city of Boston. Marching en masse through the streets, bringing traffic to a halt, and attracting stares from passerby, was truly a powerful and exhilarating experience. For a couple hours, at least, I felt that I had a voice and a community. That in itself is a big victory.

Continue reading “Stop the Mandates rally in Boston”

Korean & Vietnam War statue unveiling in Malden

Posted on June 6, 2021 by Marissa

On May 31, 2021 (Memorial Day), two new statues were unveiled in my hometown of Malden, Massachusetts. The statues, located in Forest Dale Cemetery, represent the veterans of the Korean War and Vietnam War, specifically the soldiers from Malden who lost their lives in these two wars. The ceremony included a concert by the Quantico Marine Corps Band and speeches by Mayor Gary Christenson, various city officials, and Retired U.S. Navy Captain Earl Kishida, a veteran of the Vietnam War. Descendants and relatives of the soldiers physically removed the red and blue coverings, revealing the bronze statues underneath.

Given all of the horrific happenings in the world, it was cool to see new statues come into existence. Below are some photos from the ceremony:

The Quantico Marine Corps Band put on a concert before the ceremony.

Capt. Earl Kishida spoke at the ceremony.

Descendants of the soldiers removed the tarps covering the statues.

After the ceremony, members of the public were able to admire and photograph the statues.

Shots from a nearly deserted Boston in the era of COVID-19

Posted on March 29, 2020 by Marissa

Despite the governor’s and president’s advice for everyone to stay home whenever possible, I decided today to venture into Boston. Here are some shots of the nearly (but not completely) deserted city.