Birthdays

Yesterday was Bob Dylan's 66th birthday.

It was also one of the days when the Buddha's birthday is marked. Celebrations often go on for a full week, so I still feel comfortable posting this.

Especially with yet another Canadian soldier killed today, it seems a good time to focus our thoughts on peace and understanding.

Hard times on the Greyhound-dog bus

When’s the last time you took a Greyhound bus? The last time you did a long-distance trek on anything besides a plane, or in the privacy of your own vehicle?

If you can’t remember, it’s probably because you’ve ‘graduated’ from that class of wage-earners (or the unwaged) who can’t afford a better class of transport.

I make no bones about it. I’m a union supporter. Still, it’s hard for me to feel good about the current Greyhound strike. I’m worried that the only people who are going to be affected by this are those who have very little leverage in society. They’re the elderly, the very young, the poor. Or they’re people who live in communities that aren’t served by other forms of transportation.

Who’s the eventual winner in this one?

Lucky to be a mother

One son brought me these freshly-cut lilacs. The other one took me to my favourite garden, 'The Glades' where I took a bunch of pics. I even had a phone call from my darling surrogate daughter, Cheri. What a great day!

World Press Freedom Day

The website contains enough to keep you looking over your shoulder till this time next year.

Be sure to browse their site thoroughly. The adverts are especially powerful.

Naturally, this applies to blogs. Comment freely.

ANZAC Day

This is the day that Australians and New Zealanders remember their war dead.

Today is also the day Canadians are honouring the eight soldiers who were killed in Afghanistan on Easter and the following Tuesday.

NPM Event a success!

Last night saw a number of loyal poetry-appreciators show up for our local NPM event. This while the Canucks contended in what could have been the last game of this round of playoffs. Talk about dedicated to the arts or what!

Talkin' Passport Blues

Well, I got me some pictures taken, lookin' grim as can be
You might think I've got myself a toothache or worse
Then I printed off some forms and got some photocopies made
Had 'em all signed up nice and purdy, like they said,
Made 'em all official, real important.

So today I put a bunch of pricey fuel into my car
Buck-twenty a shot, and that's fer regular, nothin' fancy
Drove on down the freeway, found a spot in some mall
Parking lot, then strolled down to the gover'ment
Office for such things.

The front of the building looked like there was some kinda strike
All those people standin', till I saw they were in line
So I turned the corner, went 'round the side, down the lane
But there were still folks in a row, snakin' to the corner and
Back behind that turn, even more.

So I got in behind 'em, pulled the hood up on my coat,
Opened up my book, tried to read, well as I could out in the
Rain. Stood fer an hour and a half 'n more, movin' nearly
To the corner -- back corner -- not quite the side lane yet
When out comes this guy, 'Commissionaire'.

He brags to us how this is the best of all the passport places
All across the land, how folks fly in from Calg'ry, even Winnipeg
To see just how this office gets 'em through so speedy, so efficient.
Airfare out to YVR, well worth it get so they claim, but us?
Well, we're not gettin' anyplace today.

So now I'm thinkin' I should maybe get my camping gear
Outta the shed. Set out in darkest midnight, bring a cookstove,
Sleeping bag. Get there before sunrise with those other folks
In line, the ones who got themselves into that old gover'ment
Passport office, quick, while it was still this afternoon.

A day for remembrance

I can hardly type. Two more Canadian soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan. My favourite author, the one I sent November 11th birthday letters to every year, Kurt Vonnegut, has died. What more can happen. I don't think I want to know. Besides, isn't that already the proverbial three? Enough for one day.

It's National Poetry Month!

In fact, it's already a third of the way through. So quick, here are five reasons to write poetry.

1. Every culture seems to have a poetic tradition; it’s a world-wide form. So I guess that means poetry shares certain aspects with the Internet – it’s world-wide too. No wonder there’s so much poetry blossoming online.

2. Poetry is the oldest literary form. Unlike the novel, it’s been around for a really long time.

3. Poetry is the newest literary form. Constantly changing, it adapts to the times – although maybe it’s the times that adapt to the poetry?

4. Poetry is the most efficient form of the literary arts, packing the most meaning into the fewest words.

5. Poetry is portable. We can carry it in our mind, can even repeat memorized lines of it. All those rhythms, even when they’re subtle, love to imprint themselves on the brain.

And if those five reasons aren’t enough to get you started, turn off your computer and step outside into whatever the elements have to throw in your face.

Listen for what your inner voice wants to scream back at the sky.

There. You have the first piece of your poem.

Once you get the rest of it written, why not send it as a comment?

Ironic, eh

That as all those names of Canadian war dead scroll by at Vimy, six more Canadians died in Afghanistan, doing the bidding of who-knows-who.

One of the most powerful scenes in the book I referred to in a recent posting (And in the Morning) occurs when the young soldier meets an arms maker business man while riding on a train.

It seems that nothing has changed.

Remembering Vimy

As time came to commemorate the 90th anniversary of this event, I decided to read a book about World War I. John Wilson's YA novel And in the Morning is told mainly through one man's diary entries. These are embellished by news clips, memorabilia, and poems. Although the book wasn't as powerful as Charles Yale Harrison's Generals Die in Bed, I'll admit to a few tears at the end.

The novel, with its inclusion of poems, made me want to find other work from and about that era. Work by and John McCrae, of course, but also by others -- Charles Hamilton Sorley, Isaac Rosenberg, Charlotte Mew, Siegfried Sassoon, Laurence Binyon...

Here is one of the classics from that time, Wilfred Owen's "Anthem for Doomed Youth"

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
-- Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, --
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

There's a website that's running the names of all the Canadians who died in the Battle for Vimy Ridge. The names begin rolling on April 8 (Easter Sunday) at sunset.

They called World War I 'the war to end all wars' yet obviously, were wrong. Somehow, we must find a way to bring about an end to all wars.

Doors in San Francisco

This month marks the 40th anniversary of the release of Light My Fire. So the following tribute to San Francisco seemed appropriate.

Door of nails




Sculptured doorway







Self-portrait with door and bus







Theatre doors





Alcatraz door








Door that speaks for itself

More San Francisco Times

Strange as it probably seems, one of the highlights of the trip to SF was a visit to Alcatraz. As tours go, it was probably the best I've been on. Headsets ensured we all heard the same information. They also meant we moved in small groups, and not as one giant herd.

One of the other highlights -- something that really made me feel I was in the City of Poets was encountering a guy (Thom Schimer) on the street selling tiny little books. We chatted a bit about lit magazines. I was happy to learn he's familiar with both Broken Pencil and sub-Terrain.

Anyway, I bought a pack of Thom's little comix. One of my favourite lines from one: "I like it when it rains: You don't feel guilty about staying inside and you get time to yourself if you go walking around." Pretty much the way I feel about our climate here in the Lower Mainland of B.C.

What a kick-off to National Poetry Month!

Friday night (yes, still in San Francisco) I received the email containing this year's ten words. And no, this wasn't some spy mission. It was CV2's annual Two-Day Poem Contest.

As usual, the words were bizarre, with the worst being the dreaded 'eschew' -- a word I always do my best to eschew! (At least it wasn't 'saraband' -- yes, that was one of 'em back in 2002.)

There'll be other mentions of National Poetry Month, you can be sure. Right now, I'm wiped out from celebrating a monster birthday and finishing my two-day poem by the deadline.

50 ways to . . . Part 8

The countdown to fifty approaches, with these events that served, I suppose, as 'bookends' to my San Francisco trip.

#42 (March 25) An airport probably isn't a place you usually think of as a gallery, but Vancouver International Airport, YVR, is exactly that. It's filled with gorgeous samples of art, and as far as I can tell, all Canadian. Best known is The Spirit of Haida Gwaii, The Jade Canoe by Bill Reid, though you have to be flying international to see that. This painting is what you see when you're on your way to the U.S. Almost worth buying a ticket someplace just to see the art!

Other postings tell about the great stuff I saw and did in San Francisco -- heck, I even spotted some CanLit while I was there. Hal Niedzvicki's Hello, I'm Special: How Individuality Became the New Conformity was a staff pick at City Lights Books.

#43 (March 31) But almost as soon as I got off the plane again, we were off to hear some great music in White Rock -- at the Elks Club Hall, no less. Talk about feeling at home (and glad to be back!).

First up was Wyckham Porteous a lifer West Coaster with one of those wonderfully scratchy voices that's impossible to describe. Someplace between Cat Stevens and Fred Neil with maybe a little Jerry Jeff Walker tossed in?

After the first set, Wyckham was joined by Bill Bourne, delayed by adventures on BC Ferries, as well as the interesting accompanist (and dancer), Jasmine. I wish I'd had my camera along, as Jasmine's hoop-dancing was like nothing I'd ever seen before.

And as if all of this wasn't treat enough, I ran into my birthday buddy, Harriett, who's also an April Fool. Great fun sharing part of a celebratory dance with her!

I forgot to wear a flower

. . . when I went to San Francisco. Luckily, my friend who lives there is named Flower, so maybe hanging with her made up for the oversight.

First stop on the adventures was City Lights Books -- a dream of a bookstore. And located where else, but on the corner where Columbus meets Jack Kerouac!

If you look down while you walk along Jack Kerouac's street, you'll see these great inlaid signs, including this one, my favourite: "In the company of best friends, there is never enough wine."

It's hard to believe this was my first visit to the city of Haight-Ashbury fame (although, no, I didn't make it to that part -- next time!).

50 ways to . . . Part 7

Here I get, closer to the magic 50 with a week or so of mostly literary explorations. I realize there’s a thread that runs through much of this post – maybe I should call it the Q Report.

#37 (March 12) The city of Mission’s Main Street Café hosted another Freedom to Read event. Owner Briant Grossmuck was, once again, wonderfully supportive. Last year he ordered in Danishes for the event (remember the Danish cartoon kafuffle?). This year’s menu featured chicken balls; read on.

A highlight of the evening was the very talented 11-year-old Ali (who also plays the alto sax) reading a section from reading a section from The Higher Power of Lucky. It’s hard to imagine, but this Newbery Award-winning book has librarians in the U.S. tut-tutting up a storm. Why? For its use of the word ‘scrotum’. Other readers chose pieces from other challenged YA books – Kevin Major’s Hold Fast and S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders.

The second part of the event focused on adult books that have been banned or challenged – Shelley Haggard read from Nancy Friday’s Women on Top; I read from Stephen King’s Different Seasons and Al Purdy’s Selected Poems. Robert Martens read a section (in Old English yet!) from The Canterbury Tales. The musicality of the Old English was spectacular, and served as a great lead-up to the section he read from Allen Ginsberg’s Howl (a segment that led our emcee, Marion Quednau, to say that Ginsberg sounded a lot like Patrick Friesen). Marion also reminded us about the anthology that helped get Sam Hamill banned from the White House, Poets Against the War. She read two selections from the parallel Canadian anthology, The Common Sky: Canadian Writers Against the War. How appropriate to hear these poems this month. Can it really be four years since the U.S. invaded Iraq?

#38 (March 15) The Ides of March is supposed to be a day to stay home. At least if your name is Julius Caesar. I stayed home, but still experienced some Canadian art – art that would probably rouse a challenge someplace. I watched a DVD I’d borrowed from the library, SCTV is on the air.

The episodes on this disc were made in the ’80s, and I suspect they might not get made today. Still, there was plenty that made me laugh – and while it’s good to see how far we’ve come in some of our attitudes, it’s a shame we’ve lost some of our innocence and have become so guarded and self-censoring. Oh John Candy, if only we could see an episode where Borat meets Johnny LaRue.

#39 (March 18) This event required me to follow a map (often a dangerous proposition for me, as I’m directionally challenged, to put it mildly) to the home of Walt and Elsie up on Sumas Mountain. But Elsie is brilliant and had sent me a map. Unlike the ones from Mapquest, hers had homelier details: “Think up and up. Now you are going up a steeeeeeeep hill.” and “Soon…you’ll come to a four-way stop. Don’t turn or you’ll become a pillar of salt.” and “…on your right you’ll see another GRAVEL MINE! Curse aloud! Walt spent two years fighting the government…” I figured even if I got lost, I’d at least have her notes to keep me entertained while the search party looked.

And what was my reward at the top of the mountain? A reading by poet, Patrick Friesen(who so recently had been compared to Ginsberg!). I’m not accustomed to Sunday afternoon readings, but the sturdy calmness of the work in Friesen’s new book, Earth’s Crude Gravities, suited the mostly older crowd; its truth about family and characters in small towns touched a chord with the group. The foggy mountain atmosphere enhanced the almost-spiritual mood of the reading – helped conjure the memories and spirits in Friesen’s finely crafted poems.

And wouldn’t you know, as he was closing the book and starting to answer questions, the sun burned its way through the clouds.

#40 (March 21) Yet another literary event – this time in Langley. Tariq Malik was reading from his collection of short stories, Rainsongs of Kotli He opened by explaining some of the history surrounding the partition of India and Pakistan, then offered some beautiful slides of photos he’d taken in Kotli, his home village. Tariq was generous with his time, answering questions and signing books.

I’m interested to learn more about his next book, based on Vancouver in the years 1907-1914. He’s already done four years of research, so it sounds as though he has a lot of material. Some of the hints he dropped were plum-delicious. Did Vancouver really have a link to the stirrings that brought about partition?

#41 (March 23) Because the rains persist (and persist!), I decided to take the day off. I brought my coffee back to bed, curled up in my nest of blankies, and read Marion Quednau’s new book, The Gift of Odin. It’s supposed to be for kids who are 9 to 11, but heck, my inner child is always sneaking out for some fun.

Odin is a Vietnamese pig, and his owner, Tammy, is one spunky girl. The characters are sparkly-clear and believable, and Odin is a sweetie – even when he has reason to bite. Just the right treat for a lazy rainy morning!

Anyway, enough 50 for 50 pursuits for now. It’s hard to believe I only need another nine!

Misnomers

They had some fancy paradin' down at Canada Place today. You know, the building with the sails. And it had nothing to do with St. Patrick's Day parades.

They were having a kind of open house to show off BC Ferries' latest addition to the fleet, a boat that should have been named the Spirit of Hartley Bay. This is the replacement vessel for the Queen of the North, the ferry that sank last March. It seems only decent that the replacement should have been named for the townspeople who came out in their boats in the middle of the night -- to help survivors of the crash. Not only did the villagers bring blankets and food, they invited the travellers into their town and made them feel at home until a bigger rescue ship could arrive, a couple of days later.

So where did BC Ferries get the name for this ship? No doubt from some high-priced think-tank ad company. Let's just hope the newly-christened Northern Adventure doesn't have as big an 'adventure' as the Queen of the North.

50 ways to . . . Part 6

#34 (March 5) On Monday night, thanks to Alex Strachan's tv tips, I watched most of the awards ceremony for this year's inductees (oops, English ones only) into the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. I missed the very start of the show, so never did figure out which orchestra/band was playing, but whoever they were, they were unbelievably good!

Among those being inducted to the Hall of Fame were Ralph Freed and Burton Lane for their song, "How About You". I'd heard the song a hundred times, but never knew about the Canadian connection. Michael Buble (not one of my usual faves) offered his interpretation of the song and substituted a line that fit neatly -- instead of the usual 'I like New York in June', he stuck 'B.C.' in place of New York. That's the way I intend to hear it from now on. Even though it was the librettist of the team who was born in Vancouver, who knows, maybe those were the original words.

Hosted by Andrew Craig, the show was quite the mix -- performers ranged from the country stylings of George Canyon and Corb Lund, to the jazz piano of Herbie Hancock and even to vocals by Measha Brueggergosman (I hadn't known before, but she's a Canadian operatic soprano).

It's a good thing I was home alone, as I couldn't help singing along with Jim Cuddy and Oh Susanna when they performed Sylvia Fricker (Tyson)'s "You Were On My Mind".

But really, the queen of the evening was Joni Mitchell. She was being inducted for an amazing five songs: "Big Yellow Taxi", "Both Sides Now", "Help Me", "You Turn Me On, I'm a Radio" and, of course, "Woodstock". When James Taylor sang it, he inserted some new lines which I'll also insert when I hear the song again: "We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion-year-old carbon. . . ".

#35 (March 7) There's still time to sign up for this year's 2-day poem contest. Sponsored by CV2 Magazine, I think this is the sixth year the event's taken place. They give you ten words, and you have 48 hours to come up with a winning entry.

Last year, I wrote a completely bizarre piece about me and my buddy, the steer, and how we had to help a drunken pelican. It seems the poor bird had a wound we were supposed to cauterize. Needless to say, my entry did NOT win. Still, it was fun, and I plan to enter again.

You do need to pre-register by March 23rd.

#36 The White Rock Museum, housed in the old train station down at the beach, is holding a show of paintings by Robert Genn. He's probably the best-known painter in the area. All the works in the show are smallish, thus its name, "Small Stuff". It runs until April 8th.

50 ways to . . . Part 5

My pace may be slower than it was earlier in the year, but I'm still finding lots of variety in the Canadian art that's all around me. Here are a few more steps as I make continue making my way to the magic 50 for 50.

#31 (February 27) On my way home from the pool (where I enjoy deep water running) I stopped by the Arts Council Gallery. Luckily, I was still able to catch the show of artwork by Jim Adams, as it was supposed to have been over on the 24th. I hope the painting I've added to this posting gives you some idea of Jim's work. It probably has to be called 'representational' in that its forms aren't abstractions, but it's what he does with the representational images that take them someplace else. This particular show, "Statements and Studies" could have easily been named something much more science-fictiony, as many of the pieces suggest visions of a not-altogether-reassuring future. I was glad I stopped in and that Adams' work was still on display. Definitely thought-provoking.

#32 (March 2) Fridays around here are traditionally a time for kickin' back. Pizza and wine -- that sort of thing. This week's feature entertainment was Trailer Park Boys: The Movie, so of course the beverage of choice had to be rum 'n Cokes. I'd seen enough episodes of the television show to wonder how the boys might sustain a story for an hour and a half. Well, they did it, and did it well. Yay, Bubbles, Julian and (most of all) Ricky! I like to say that this is Canadian content we can all be proud of (and yes, this is another from producer Ivan Reitman).

#33 (March 4) Our local Wheelhouse Theatre was the site for a musical production of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The production marks the 10th anniversary of The Young People's Theatre Company of Surrey (SYTCO). The group's mandate is to provide opportunities for local young people (ages 8-17) "to perform theatre in a professional setting." They certainly accomplished their mandate -- voices were pure (and on-key), choreography was energetic (and very well executed), and costumes and sets were remarkable. I was amazed by the emotional range of the performance, and have to admit to being surprisingly shaken up by the 'lost-in-the-cave' scene. Maybe I was just too close, sitting in only the second row. Still, I look forward to attending another of this obviously talented group's performances.

A day for remembering

A character in David Mitchell's Black Swan Green claims this about February: "It's not so much a month as a twenty-eight-day-long Monday morning." And now, this snippet of a month that often feels longer than any other is once again coming to an end.

Today is always a day when I'm a bit sad, as it's the date when my dad died, in 1990. The snapshot is one my son Jevon took and is from the last time he saw his grandpa.

In addition, this past month saw the deaths of two other men -- in some ways as different as any two people could be, yet they shared one thing in common. A love of the outdoors.

Pierre Rovtar was my local Green Party candidate. He ran both federally and provincially, and as you know, didn't win either time. Heck, you can bet it'll make the news when the first GP candidate wins a seat in this country. Pierre fought hard for a number of important issues and wrote wonderful letters to the local papers. He's left this wish for a legacy: He wants us to plant a tree in his memory. I haven't done it yet, but once it gets a little warmer, I will.

The other man is slightly more difficult to explain. I can only describe Jim as my former brother-in-law, even though I was never technically married to his brother, who is my ex. The photo I'm posting is awfully blurry, but it's the only one I could find where Jimmy wasn't holding a cigarette. In the end, I suspect those are what got him.

With both Pierre and Jimmy landing in heaven (or wherever it is any of us go when this life ends), I hope the two of them are able to head out for a walk in the bush and maybe do some fishing. I just wish I could listen in while they talk about politics, especially if they manage to get my dad in on the discussion. Who knows, global warming may suddenly get a whole lot more heated.

Bravo!!

At last! Security certificates have been declared contrary to the Charter of Rights and Freedom. Finally, thanks to the Supreme Court of Canada, their validity has flown out the window.

No more do we have to think of Kingston Penitentiary as our own dirty little version of the CIA prison at Guantanomo Bay. Too often the special facility in Ontario has been referred to as Guantanamo North, or even Guantanamo Lite.

Even though this decision doesn't have anything to do with books, it seems appropriate that it should be made at the beginning of Freedom to Read Week.

I take heart in this decision and can only think that maybe there still is hope for Canada as an independent nation. Now we just have to find out when they're going to actually release these prisoners who have been held without any specific reason being given.

50 ways to . . . Part 4

#25 (February 12) One thing this 50 for 50 project has done is that it's made me take a closer look at some of the arts offerings in my own community. I think the best gallery I've found (okay, so far) is the eponymously named White Rock Gallery. I hope you take some time to explore the link to their paintings, as I wasn't allowed to take any photos while I was inside -- and really, some of them are fantastic!

#26 (Feb 13) Another thing I've learned in the course of this exercise is that I don't have to even go out to look at art. I sat in the cozy comfort of home and watched a video about about "Canada's Painter Laureate," NFB, Alex Colville: The Splendour of Order, illustrated exactly what its name suggests. Colville's life appears to be an exercise in order, from his morning walks with his dog to the geometric patterns he uses to determine positions of images in his #27 (Feb 15) When I returned the Colville video to the White Rock Library, I noticed a new show on the infamous 'art wall' beside the stairs. These paintings, mainly watercolours, are by Langley artist, Gwen Murphy. This image is one of her acrylic pieces (no glass, ergo, no glare).

#28 (Feb 17) It's appropriate that the Vancouver Biennale should be event number 28 on my list, as February 28th is the final day for people to vote on which giant sculpture they want the city to keep. Quick, hurry and vote for the one you want to stay. If you go to the site, not only do you get to look at all those sculptures, you get to participate in making a choice about public art. Oddly, I caught a glimpse of one of the pieces from the competition the other night while I was watching the season opener of Robson Arms. Something that made the episode even better was their use of soundtrack to further the plot -- local musician Heidi McCurdy did a whammy rendition of the old Nancy Sinatra hit, These Boots Are Made for Walkin'.


#29 (Feb 18) As part of its own 50th Anniversary celebrations, the city of White Rock sponsored a Lunar New Year celebration as we enter the Year of the Pig (or, as some prefer, the Boar). Chinese opera singers performed, and some pretty athletic artists presented the traditional lion dance. The weather was great and this was a wonderful opportunity to take a walk and say hi to friends. Oh yeah, Gung Hai Fat Choi!

#30 (Feb 19) The Oscars will be on this weekend, and I had to see Canadian-born actor, Ryan Gosling, as he's nominated in the Leading Actor category for his role in Half Nelson. He plays a difficult role in this independent film about a teacher who's got a whopping big drug problem. You can bet, come Sunday night, I'm going to be crossing my fingers for him!

A blogiversary!

It was February 16, 2006 that I started making these entries. Anyone who’s followed over the course of this year will know that there’s very little in the way of a unifying theme to this blog. Sure, there are readings and other arts events, but there’ve also been tree-cuttings and mini-rants and some pretty good celebrations.

After all these months, I can’t let another minute go by without thanking the person who helped me figure out how to set up a blog, Derek K. Miller. His presentation at an EAC meeting was all it took to get me going. His site is the longest-running blog I’ve ever visited. Wow, but it goes waaay back – all the way to October, 2000 – by some calculations, still the last millennium!

If you’ve visited Derek’s site lately, you’ll know that in January he was diagnosed with an intestinal cancer. From what he’s written about it, I’m confident that it was discovered early enough to make treatments completely successful. I know that I’ll be checking in there regularly to follow his progress as he beats this thing.

50 ways to . . . Part 3

I'm doing my best to get back on track with my pursuit of 50 for 50. Drat, but I'd hoped to have my 50 accomplished by the 19th of February (the 50th day of the year), but too much intervened. Still, here's what's been happening around here.

#20 (February 3) Too often, despite good intentions, I miss out on shows at local galleries. This time I made sure to stop in, and yep, I'm glad I did.

A show called Inuit Sculpture Now is on display (until March 11) at the Surrey Art Gallery. Aside from the French/English write-ups on this travelling show (these always feels so useless out here, where the second language should probably be Punjabi or Mandarin), the show suits the high, airless room that is the gallery.

The combination of traditional and contemporary isn't always successful (especially when themes such as alcoholism are interpreted too literally), but the show is worth a look, if only for the blend of materials used in the works. There are traditional materials (antler is used especially effectively in several pieces) and some that left me scratching my head (Brazilian soapstone -- why?). The show ran a while ago at the McMichael Gallery, and their descriptive write-up's still posted.

#21 (same day) Although I couldn't take photos inside the gallery, I did take a photo of the Centre's focal piece, Maurice Van Der Beke's Mandala After Prayer Wheel, which hangs in the foyer. Even though it's big -- about two metres in diameter -- the prayer wheel is designed to spin. Unlike the rest of the art in the Centre (do not touch signs abound), this one's meant to be handled. The wheel turns easily and it's hard to resist spinning off a few prayers.

This time I even read the commemorative information plaque that hangs beside it. The piece was the result of an LIP (Local Initiatives Program) Grant from 1974.

When I searched LIP's, I found that a few places in Ontario still seem to offer these initiatives. What I wonder is, why this is no longer a federal program? I can locate archives and other valuable projects that resulted from the program. It seems a shame that our country's values have shifted away from such pursuits.

#21.5 (still same day) The day was such a fine one, I took a stroll through some of the forest paths and then the garden surrounding the gallery at Bear Creek Park. I'm not quite sure how much I like it as art, but among items in the themed gardens was this piece of sculpture, Cat Woman. Hardly to the standard of the items indoors, still, she looks as though she'll endure.

#22 (Feb 5) A lazier, or shall we just say 'home-based' pursuit, was watching a 1965 video I'd borrowed from the library, Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Leonard Cohen. There's quite a range of remarks at IMDB's user-comments on the film. The first are the most enthusiastic, though the comparison to the Moody Blues seems a bit of a stretch.)

Besides being useful as part of my ongoing research of the '60s, the film was broken up into different segments that were easy to watch and stop and then come back to. The most fun were the short films built around his poems. I guess I'm going to have to learn to be a filmmaker. I'd like to turn some of my poems into clips for YouTube!

#23 (Feb 8) This one proved to be an exercise in frustration, as the coffee shop hosting the art show was closed the day I went. Indigo Sun Cafe is local, so I'll try again. I just hope their business is going okay and that they haven't been put out of business by their mega-chain competitors. Still, I peeked in the windows and could see most of the work, paintings by Irena Shklover. The work is whimsical and in wildly vibrant colours, bright enough to convince me I'll try to go there for a coffee (and a better look) sometime soon.

#24 (Feb 8) Here's a totally lazy one, but one of my best all week: art while I was lying in bed!

Setting my clock radio, I caught the voice of Eleanor Wachtel on The Arts Tonight. She was saying what for me are magic words: Academy Award.

She was talking with Torill Kove, whose short film The Danish Poet has been nominated for an Oscar. When awards night comes, I'll be rooting (once again!) for the NFB.

Almost halfway to 50, and it's not quite even spring!

Superb Owl

No, that’s not a typo – that’s my name for this day.

I’m not much of an NFL fan, so I like to spend this day doing non-football things. There’s a fine misty rain falling, so today is going to be a full-on reading day. My game plan includes a couple of poetry books and maybe even a bit of time to finish Tommy Chong’s non-fiction book about his time in jail. Nothing at all like my time there (see previous post: In Prison -- again), his time was the real thing.

As much as I’ve always enjoyed Tommy Chong’s humour and some of his political musings, I hate to say but so far, the best thing about his book is the cleverness of its title, The I Chong. I also have to give him (or maybe his editors) credit for the way he’s followed through on this with chapter headings based on the real I Ching. And yes, the book is laced with lots of philosophical musings, even if a lot of them come off sounding pretty hokey. Maybe you’re supposed to be stoned when you read the book?

The saddest thing about the book is that much of it feels as though it’s some kind of deal he might have cut with the authorities – a kind of, Hey, folks, I’ve changed my mind. They were right. Marijuana is bad bad bad. Not exactly in keeping with his previous persona, but hey – nine months in jail probably alters one’s perceptions in ways that drugs never could. All I can say, Mr. Chong, is: Peace to ya, man.

And to everyone else I say, Happy Superb Owl Day. As the Superb Owl himself might say, Enjoy it.

ADDENDUM: Well, now that I've finished the book, I have to report that Tommy Chong did get down off his whitewashed soapbox long enough to offer some insights about life 'in the joint' -- after all, that is what the book is supposed to be about. He doesn't have a lot in the way of kind words for the 'system,' meaning everything from the prisons to the offices of GWB. Less soupy than my first impressions led me to believe.

So much for unified action!

Well, I realized why I hadn't seen anything about the power-off protest. Duh -- I shut my power off on the 31st of January. Everyone else who participated did this on February 1st!

Even if I wasn't part of the worldwide effort on this, it seems to have had some effect. Apparently France measured a 1% decrease in power demands during the exercise. The image of the Eiffel Tower gone dark is impressive. Here's a link to a blog asking an excellent question: why do we seem to expect our monuments lit up anyway?

Naturally, there were some mixed messages about this, but aren't there always?

And even if I didn't participate on the right day, I have to say that I enjoyed the peace and calm in the house. For once, it was silent. The fridge wasn't humming, the fan on the heater wasn't whirring, the little buzz the lights make wasn't there. It was great!

Learning to hear the silence again was worth the annoyance of resetting all those clocks. I think I'm going to set aside time to do this again.

Did anybody notice?

Today at 10:55 a.m., I cut the power in our house. This was part of a project initiated in France where people would turn off their power for five minutes, to allow the planet '5 minutes of down time.'

The purpose was to remind our political leaders that climate change is the most important issue facing all of us.

I haven't seen anything in the news about this yet. It's just been Internet buzz. Here's hoping there were others who participated in this silent but potentially potent (I won't say powerful) protest.

50 ways to...50 manières à...Part/Partie 2a

Between going away and then coming home to do catch-up, I’ve come down with a killer of a cold. Not a good month health-wise, but hey, I have at least managed one more event on my 50 for 50 project.

#15 (Jan 25-28) Even though I haven't been up to going out, I found something I could be part of from home. I’d like to call it participatory art, along the lines of the old Participaction fitness campaign. Participartaction, anyone?

In spite of the project’s active-sounding name, Words on the Move, it really isn’t one bit athletic.

This is the fourth year the Literary Translators’ Association of Canada has sponsored what can only be called a group translation fest. They’ve posted two poems on their website: one in English, one in French. They’ve asked members of the public to provide a translation of one of the poems. They say ‘into any language’ – do you suppose Igpay Atinlay counts?

Unfortunately, deadline for submissions is tomorrow, the 29th, so my entry is squeaking in right under the wire.

Since they plan to post all entries after the 7th of February, this is a great chance to get a different sort of publication credit. Now, if only I could find a more delicate translation for mes couilles.

In prison – again

Near the end of last October I was lucky enough to be part of a group of a dozen writers who spent a Saturday and Sunday meeting with inmates of Matsqui, a medium-security penitentiary in Abbotsford, BC. The men are part of an ongoing writers’ group led by Surrey’s Ed Griffin.

Yesterday’s visit was different. For one thing, there were only two of us, Mary Reid and myself. Rather than attending as part of a pre-arranged retreat, we were going on more of a fact-finding mission. And we weren’t going back to Matsqui, we were going to William Head, a facility on Vancouver Island near Victoria.

The day was gorgeous – one of those perfect days I can only call ‘pre-spring’ – it felt as though everything was just on the brink of bursting into the new season. It was a joy to be in such a beautiful setting, on Canada’s western shore, looking out across to the water to the peaks of the Cascades. I could only think, if you have to be in prison, William Head is at least a very beautiful place to be.

Wally, our guide, was both patient and knowledgeable. We visited a number of facilities there, including the Native Centre, where the men make drums and other traditional objects. We learned a lot about the place, including that the site used to be a quarantine station for new immigrants to Canada. What stories must be hidden in the little cemetery there!

But the real purpose of our visit was not to see the facility. We wanted to find out about writing programs there, in hopes that we could help provide some liaison between the two institutions, especially as many of the Matsqui writers have occasion to move on to William Head. We knew that the inmates at WHI have been producing Out of Bounds, a small literary magazine for many years, so we anticipated that there must be some ongoing writing programs there.

The men were warm and welcoming, and seemed genuinely interested in meeting with us – we’re pretty sure they liked us for more than the Tim Horton’s doughnuts we brought. We spent the morning in dialogue, learning about the kinds of writing they’re interested in (everything from writing better letters to exploring fiction and poetry). But we were surprised to learn that currently there isn’t a writing program there.

Mary and I came away from our visit with a lot of new information. Both of us hope we’ll be able to get some meaningful workshops going at William Head, as there’s a group there that seems ready and willing to learn and to share.

By the way, there’ll be another writers’ retreat taking place at Matsqui this spring. If you’re a writer who’s interested in participating, please let me know. It’s an experience I’m sure you won’t soon forget.

RHIMBY

That's my acronym for the opposite of Not In My Back Yard. It's acknowledging that the problem is Right Here.

The local branch of our public library provided the space for a panel discussion on homelessness. The presenters, Judy Villeneuve, Sue Hammell, and Susan Keeping had plenty to say. Still each of them honoured the 5-minute time limit and kept their presentations brief.

Longtime city councillor Villeneuve offered the most in the way of stats and facts. MLA Sue Hammell referred to a number of interesting models for providing low-cost shelter, including the Portland Hotel Society. Susan Keeping, head of the Newton Advocacy Group and the presenter most involved in fieldwork, put a very human face on many of the problems, offering mainly anecdotal information.

Questions from the floor covered a huge range of topics, from rent controls to the need for public toilets. At one point I noticed one of our most well-known local homeless men peering in at the door. All I can imagine is that the size of the crowd must have frightened him way.

While it does sound as though the 'tanker may be turning' and that some important new initiatives are in the works (in particular, an Affordable Housing Trust in Surrey), I think all of us left with feelings of how fortunate we are, and also maybe some shame over how well we live.

I remembered a slogan a group of us made up in high school when we were members of what was then called a 'Christian action group' -- "I was hungry, and you formed a discussion group for me." I hope we are finally able to do more than just talk.

50 ways to . . . (a rude interruption)

So much for my plan to accomplish 50 for 50 in only 50 days. I seem to have lost a couple of days to the dreaded gastrointestinal flu. Ack. Besides sleeping almost ’round the clock, I spent too much time in the smallest room in our house.

Thanks to ginger ale, I am coming back to life. Heck, I’m now even up to soup for breakfast!

My advice regarding this particular bug?

1. Don’t get it.

Apparently it helps if you DON’T shake hands with anyone, DON’T hug anyone, and DON’T share things that you put into your mouth.

2. Failing that, my fallback advice is to be sure you’re stocked up on supplies. If you get this flu, you sure as heck won’t be going out to do any shopping.

Back on track soon!

PS That 'smallest room' in the pic was Leon Trotsky's. Seemed apt!

50 ways to . . .Part 2

When it comes to dealing with cold or windy weather, I’m a big wuss. Monday I’d planned to go in to Vancouver for what sounded like a great reading at the Robson Square series. And no doubt it was: Caroline Adderson and Jeff Thran. But no, the winds blew up, and I chickened out. So my list of seven Canadian arts-based events for this week probably sounds pretty lame. To be fair, I’ve classed a few of them as half-events. Here goes.

#8.0 (January 8) Even though I didn’t go to the reading, I found two television shows that displayed some quirky Canadian content. The first, another guilty pleasure, was a celebration of 40 years of Star Trek. Not only did this feature Canadian-born actor Bill (Can you say cheese?) Shatner, it was produced by Space TV. This Toronto-based group used a Star Trek convention (that took place in TO) as the focus of the program. Half-marks as an event worthy of 50 for 50, still.

#8.5 (Jan 8) I’d heard this promo’ed on CBC radio, and was glad I was able to find the Omni channel on my TV. Canadian journalist, Jonathan Roth, had himself a coup: an interview with Robert Mugabe the first in over two years by a western reporter. While Roth didn’t push Mugabe (in fact, the interview could be called ‘soft’), the piece offered insights about Mugabe I’d never known (his background as a Jesuit, for one). Mugabe avoided discussing the superinflation that's gone on his country (Roth cited 1100% a month!), and he sure as heck didn’t want to talk about his infamous “Operation Clean Filth” project, offering way smaller numbers of displaced persons than other sources have. Half-marks, I suppose as a 50 For 50 event, even though it’s great to see the art of journalism in action.

#9.0 (Jan 9) Again, the weather (This time, a dump of nasty snow which saw my partner having to take a crazily circuitous route home – over two hours for what is usually a twenty-five minute drive.) drove us to the idiot box. Only this time, television was anything but idiotic. The first half of Rick Mercer’s show featured a visit with Stephane Dion. His interview provided the most in-depth coverage I’ve seen since Dion was elected as leader of the Liberal Party.

#9.5 (Jan 9) After all the ads I’ve seen – on bus shelters, in newspapers, you name it – I had to see the first episode of Little Mosque on the Prairie. The opening was so bad, I nearly shut it off. ‘Talking head’ shots with each actor’s name. Really, the last time I saw that kind of opening set-up was probably on The Beachcombers. I made it through the whole show, and while I can’t promise I’ll stop by again, at least I know what the fuss (or lack thereof) is about.

#10 (Jan 10) More than ever, I regret not forcing myself to go into the city for the reading on Monday. I read Jeff Thran’s book, Every Inadequate Name. This guy writes great poems. Treat yourself, and buy it. Or at least get your library to order it, so you can check it out.

#11 (Jan 11) There’s still way too much snow on the ground for this to be Lotus Land. But since I had to go to the dentist, I bundled up and trekked uptown. Then, since I was there anyway, I stopped in at my nearest branch of the Surrey Public Library. The only art I saw there (besides their permanent piece, a sculpture by Arnold Mikelson) was some very colourful work by up-and-coming Canadian artists. Their work was bright and fresh enough that I had to take a photo.

#12 (Jan 12) Really, with this weather making me want to stay indoors, I thought this might be the day I’d have to take a break from this quest. But no, a Canadian artist found me! We’d rented a DVD, a Russian film called Dom durakov (House of Fools). Well, who plays a feature role? BC’s own Bryan Adams! It seems there’s just no getting away from Canadian art and artists.

#13 (Jan 13) Even though this is supposed to be Hockey Day in Canada, I’m not willing to stretch this list to include Don Cherry as Canadian art, though I suppose when it comes to cultural icons, he’s right up there with Tim Horton. To celebrate the day, I'll post a poem, which is (in a very small way) about hockey:

Groupie
me
I just wanna marry
the Zamboni driver
he looks all reliable
a steady kind of guy

it really turns me on
the way he makes those zooming sweeps
perfect down the whole length of the ice
how he speeds it up so fast
pushing when he swings so tight
hard into the turn inside the corner

love his handsome face
riding high on that machine
wonder will I love him still
after
the game

#14 (Jan 14) Here I thought I was being so good, returning a book before it was due. Sheesh, but when I got there I learned that I had a video out -- and waaaay overdue! The White Rock Library doesn't yet send out 'almost-due' reminders (they're supposedly catching up soon on this), and they don't have a 'no-late-fees' policy. So here I sit with big fat fine, not feeling like going back down there. Whatever, it was fun to see that they have a new art show up on their walls, some lovely work by Akiko Michael. This photo doesn't do justice to the work's elegant simplicity. Too many reflections off the glass. But seeing the work made me glad I'd stopped in, despite the not-so-good seven-dollar news.

50 ways to . . . Part 1

As part of its 50th birthday celebration, the Canada Council has challenged us to consume one tonne of culture.

No, that’s not quite it, but they have come up with a celebratory challenge. They’re calling it ’50 for 50’ and they want us to take part in celebrating Canadian arts – they hope we'll do this 50 times over the course of 2007.

So far, I’ve been finding this pretty easy. Here’s a list of some of things I’ve already done this year.

#1 (January 1) This slow-moving holiday allowed me the time to really read the Globe and Mail’s list of the top books of 2006. It reminded me of a book I’ve been curious about, Rawi Hage’s DeNiro’s Game. I’ve gone and reserved a copy of this from my local library.

#2 (Jan 2) I read Yvonne Blomer’s take on what life is like for a Canadian in Japan. Her book of poems, a broken mirror, fallen leaf, transports you there without any jet-lag. Best accompanied by a pot of hot tea.

#3 (Jan 3) I rented a DVD of a piece I hadn’t even realized had been made into a film: Douglas Coupland’s Souvenir of Canada. Not your usual home-viewing pleasure, but then Coupland’s no ordinary author. This exploration of his installation, Canada House, made me laugh and even made me think. (Odd note: the actor who portrays Coupland for parts of the film looks a lot like the young Svend Robinson.)

#4 (Jan 4) Sunny, though a bit on the chill side. Stopped into the Community Arts Council ’s nearby gallery and caught a preview of the new show they were in the midst of mounting, paintings by Hormozd Poorooshasb. A local artist, he is of Persian descent. His work is wildly colourful and I look forward to viewing it again.

#5 (Jan 5) A rainy day, so I spent part of the day curled up by the fire, finishing Hot Pursuit, a mystery written by Vancouver author Nora Kelly.

#6 (Jan 6) We tried going to the White Rock Museum, but it was still closed for the holidays.

Still, it was fun to go strolling on the pier. It seemed everybody had a camera in their hands!












I took a couple of shots of art I found down there:




-- some professional (the statue) and some by local school kids. How's that for Canadian art being everywhere!?

#7 (Jan 7) We celebrated Orthodox Christmas today. While we had brunch, we watched a video made at the Romanian Hall in Woodstock, Ontario. It featured traditional Romanian music and dancing. If you follow this link to Romanian tunes, you can even hear some Christmas carols. Romanian-Canadians sure know how to celebrate. La multi ani!

Let the Canada Council know what you’re doing to celebrate ’50 for 50’. Their address is 50@canadacouncil.ca

New Year's Traditions

Although we have a few traditions, they always seem to shift. This year, though we had the traditional New Year's Eve fire in the chiminea, we imported a summer game into the mix -- our own brand of mini-golf. With the aid of my trusty putter, 'Golden Boy,' I held my own against the real golfers, George and Wayne.

Then, this morning, despite it being a very blustery day, tradition dictated attendance (as a viewer, not a participant) at the City of White Rock's annual Polar Bear Swim. There were a lot of swimmers, many of whom stayed in longer than I would have, even if it had been August.

Here's a shot of our friend, Christian, drying off after his dip in the big pond.
And following him is a picture of George, wishing everyone a very Happy New Year!

The Joy of Reading

During this laziest of weeks – okay, not counting Monday – I’ve indulged in my favourite of pastimes, reading. Not that I don’t read every day, every week of the year, this reading has been different: nothing has been something I have to read. It’s all been strictly for pleasure.

Guiltiest of these is yet to come, as I’m not quite brave enough to face the end of such a hideously beloved series. So there it sits, beckoning with its creepy cover: the Baudelaire children eyeing a very white foot. Book the Thirteenth, o dread of dreads. If you’re not familiar with Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate Events, I must caution you. Even the website is very unpleasant. A visit there might well require a glass of fortified eggnog.

Another guilty pleasure was a long-postponed re-read. Earlier this month, I kept bumping into Heinlein’s classic, Stranger in a Strange Land. Three different places, three times. What else could I do but heed the signs, curl up by the fire, and open it again? Only, now that I’ve finished it, I can’t figure out why it hasn’t been made into a film. We could use some water-brother grokkery to mellow out this crazy world.

Just as this week wouldn’t be complete without nibbling butter tarts, no week of lazy pleasures would be complete without sampling some poems. This little treasure by Victoria’s Barbara Pelman popped out from the latest issue of CV2. It seems so appropriate for these last few days of the year. I leave it with you as a belated yuletide gift.


The Angel of Backyards

likes the perspective of rearview mirrors,
sits backwards in buses and subways
checks behind her when she walks
down back alleys–

is left-handed, has lost
the front door key, sits on the porch
contemplating last spring’s garden.
She is a connoisseur of weeds

knows the yellow sharpness of broom,
the white exuberance of yarrow,
counts dandelions and buttercups
among her friends.

The angel of backyards
steals into closed doors, plants
an oblique desire in the darkest
of corners, catches you unaware

while cooking soup, planting petunias,
preparing careful budgets; digs up
buried bones, turns the compost
and there it is again – all that you thought
you lost, all you wish to lose.

Santa says...

Merry Christmas!

And so do I.

Zappa, Take Two

Today is the day Frank Zappa should be turning 66. Too bad he didn't last long enough to see the concert we saw last night, Zappa Plays Zappa.

For a sample of what Frank's son, Dweezil is doing, click on the link at the end of this paragraph. Be sure you have speakers on, and that you're braced for a wall of sound. Ready? Go there now.

In keeping with the Old Man’s tradition, Dweezil’s picked only top-notch musicians to fill the stage with him. The blowmindingest was Steve Vai, who lives up the often overused adjective, legendary. Beyond Vai, if I had to pick a favourite, I'd be voting for Scheila Gonzalez. She sings, plays sax, a couple of keyboards -- and often seems to do all three just about simultaneously!

The world of Frank Zappa is as wonderful now as it was all those years ago with Freak Out. For a tiny taste of Frank, cross your fingers that this link remains active.

Take a close look at this photo to see where I was 22 years ago -- with my own son along that time too.

Happy what-should-have-been your 66th birthday, Frank. You must be proud of your baby.

Time and time again

One of my girlfriends keeps going to see Casino Royale. I guess she reeally likes Daniel Craig, the new James Bond.

The last time I saw a film four times in the theatre? Ulp. Revenge of the Nerds. I think it had a lot to do with Gilbert (Anthony Edwards).

Videos and DVD’s take away a lot of the crazy obsessive element. What you do on the privacy of your own TV screen, well, heck, that’s nobody’s business but your own. The biggest repeater around here lately has been Jack Black in School of Rock. I adore it, just don’t start singing the finale song. It’ll get stuck in my head for a week.

I started thinking about other movies I’d seen multiple times. No news that The Wizard of Oz is right up there on the list. Same for the Star Wars series and the Alastair Sim version of A Christmas Carol, apparently called Scrooge. You could have fooled me. I always thought it was pretty much the official Christmas Carol, complete with Charles Dickens' personal seal of approval.

But some of the others I've seen more than a few times? Ferris Bueller’s Day Off , the Beatles in Help! and the probably corny (but wonderful) Harold and Maude.

The strangest film I’ve ever seen more than once (both times at the cinema) is Fellini’s Juliet of the Spirits. After seeing it once, I realized I didn’t remember ANY of it. That seemed just weird, so I went again. Second time, no better. Complete Teflon brain. Can anybody tell me what it’s about?

Weirdly, a film that lots of people have seen more than once is the other 1939 classic, Gone With the Wind. It turns out to be one I’ve never seen, except for maybe a couple of scenes on some movie channel while I'm flipping. I suppose I'll have to see it one of these days. Maybe for the 75th Anniversary Extravaganza in 2014 -- if they still have theatres by then. And no, don't even try to guess what popcorn will cost.