Author: Peter Catizone

  • Introduction

    It was a long time since I had set foot in a church, but the compulsion was irresistible. St Stephen’s Roman Catholic Church in Boston’s North End stood like a beacon, proud and defiant against the changing mores of life in Little Italy in the 1960s.  St Stephen’s had been my parish church, the place…

  • When a man is blind

    When a man is blind he believes others to be blind as well, by the nature of narcissism. Unknown to him, his face reads like a map for all those who can see.

  • Balance of free-form and cubism

    The booster rockets on the Shuttle represent thousands of pounds of reason and logic essential to the thrust of our prayers piercing the stratosphere. But if not dropped allowing the weightless silent engines of Meditation to engage, our souls will never complete their journey liken the spawn of salmon. My theme/sculpture had a balance of…

  • Vivaldi and old memories

    View more on Snapchat The piece by Vivaldi triggered old memories. When Mary and I lived on Beacon Hill, I opened an art gallery near Louisburg Square. I put on art shows, wanting to combine the visual with the performing arts as one movement in time and space. I would make a stage out of…

  • As the believer believes

    My friend Henry Caruso always took the mayonnaise labels off his jars. When people came over for lunch he delighted his friends by telling them he had their favorite mayonnaise. In Hinduism there are 3 parts of the basic levels of consciousness — Earth, Astral, Causal — the Causal being pure thought and final stage…

  • One is essential to the other

    Power in transition is relevant to the goal, one being essential to the other.  Becoming Vegan was more important then being a Vegan because it gave me the opportunity to become something else (which is why I’m no longer Vegan!). Tibetan Buddhist monks may be incorrect in their thinking that only the transition/ journey is…

  • An Italian Yogi

    September Little Italy, the historic North End of Boston: I was born. My mother, narcissistic mean cruel and abusive, was perfect for me. The streets were violent — perfect! I’ll explain … I was 7 and too young to leave — could I breathe in a particular way to change my feelings, thoughts and how…