Art, protests, and art as protest

I was one of the many who made it to the final weekend of the Monet to Dali show at the VAG. The paintings and sculpture were wonderful, but in some ways, the more important show was happening outside. The steps of the gallery have been the site of so many peace-focused activities, and today was no different. Of course, there were the usual hand-painted signs that said it all.

But one of the strongest pieces I saw all day happened to be 'in-process' -- someone adding an all-too-apt addition to the ridiculous Olympic countdown clock that's been plunked next to the fountain at the gallery.

BC Author Recognition Day

Even though the workers are still out on strike (whew, but the laneways are stinky!), Vancouver City Council managed to declare today as BC Author Recognition Day. This year's honoree, bill bissett, helped celebrate the event by reading a memory-filled piece he'd created for the occasion.

The reading was part of Alan Twigg's creation, Reckoning 07 -- a celebration of and commemoration of BC's publishing industry.

As recipient of this year's George Woodcock Award for Lifetime Achievement (formerly known as the Terasen Award -- do you suppose when Kinder-Morgan got involved, the commitment to BC arts evaporated like so much gas?), bissett will have a bronze plaque installed in Library Square.

Now if only bill could be our National Poet Laureate...

Welcome to Assbook!

I've been asked by host, Juan Dosa, to say something about the latest thing in social contact networks. After Facebook, what else could there be, but Assbook.

Here are a few random shots of some of the lovely asses of Assbook.

Shy Ass

Shiny Ass

Bride Ass

Literacy Day (or is that Listeracy Day?)

It seems appropriate that today, International Literacy Day, the Vancouver Sun’s arts
pages should feature a literature-related installation in the gallery at SFU.
It’s a new piece by Douglas Coupland and presents 50 books that he’s read more than once.

This made me think about some of the books I’ve read multiple times. Top of the list (I’m sure I’ve read it at least 33 1/3 times) would have to be J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye. The ‘third’ would be for the last time I skimmed it, when it played a role in a Freedom-to-Read event.

I’ve started a list of other books that I’ve read more than three times. These include, in no particular order:

Earth Abides by George R Stewart

all of the Tintin books (Hergé)

David and the Phoenix by Edward Ormondroyd

The Narnia Series (all seven books) by C.S. Lewis

The Bone People by Keri Hulme

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

Ecotopia by Ernest Callenbach

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein

Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank

The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (first book only fits this ‘many times’ category) by Douglas Adams

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell

The Green Knowe books by Lucy M. Boston

Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy

Looking through these, it becomes obvious that my taste for repeats finds its focus in fantasy, children’s lit, and science/speculative fiction. In other words (so what else is new?) – I can’t seem to grow up.

Belateds

What is it with summer? For me at least, it gets in the way of some things that are important to me, especially blogging.

But once again, September's here. As so many others have mentioned, this month seems more like a new year than January does. Still, I feel as though some of the summer's events need attention.

The photo at the top is from one of our annual summer highlights -- visiting friends at Cusheon Lake on Saltsping Island. I took this when we were out for a paddle; the canoe is a great way to see all the life on the lake: fish, beavers, and even insect-infested lily pads. So many of the plants were curled up, obviously losing the battle against whatever it was that fed on them this summer.

An oddity in my own poor excuse for a garden was my favourite pink gerbera -- a gift from someone who knows about gardening, Elsie Neufeld. For some reason, it decided to go mutant this year. I never saw those petals coming out of the centre before.

And what summer would be complete without a dose of poetry? One of our area's few remaining independent bookstores, Whitby's, hosted an event to launch Andrea MacPherson's book, Natural Disasters. Unfortunately, the evening wasn't all it could have been, with the capuccino machine presenting the greatest intrusion. The event didn't seem to follow much of a plan, but luckily (pro that she is) Carolyn Swayze stepped up and did a lovely introduction. I wonder if I was the only attendee who was somewhat disappointed by the fact that Andrea read only three poems -- and this after waiting nearly an hour beyond the advertised start time. Oh well, the three were enough for me to buy the book and read it at home, so I guess the launch served its purpose after all.

Summer wouldn't be complete

...without a visit to the PNE.

Naturally, one of the main events is eating. While there are waaay too many choices to show, as a main course, the barbecued chicken is always reliably yummy.

A new feature I made a point of visiting was Bryan Berg's re-creation of Vancouver -- built out of playing cards! Berg holds the Guinness Book of Records for what he does. It was a good thing his display was behind plenty of plexiglass. And I guess he was lucky too that we didn't get one of our once-in-a-while earth tremors!

Even if some of them don't eat grass, you have to see the critters; after all, the PNE started out as an agricultural fair. This is one of the City of Burnaby's eco-sculpures. Like I said, it doesn't eat grass -- it is grass (and parsley and a mix of other green delights).

Of course, no visit would be complete without braving a couple of rides. There go Jeremy and Brenna on the Tilt-A-Whirl!

In Harmony Festival

After a couple of greyish days, even the weather was in harmony for the annual In Harmony Festival. This is Mud Bay Blues Band, rockin' at Softball City. Not really a venue conducive to blues, but hey -- I guess for once, I'm not allowed to complain -- admission was free.

And here's a pic of Harriet's T-shirt, listing the performers from a previous year's festival, back when it was at the beautifully bluesy Camp Kwomais.

Remembering Jim

The ceremony to place Jim Gordon's headstone took place today, the one-year anniversary of his death.
I couldn't get to Hornby Island, where Jim had lived for so many years. Still, I observed it in my own way, setting a lighted candle near his photo.
I put on some Erik Satie (I knew Jim would love it) and performed one of my strangest dances, swirling around the room. All morning long, there'd been thick clouds in the sky, but as I passed beneath the skylight, the sun broke through. I can't help but think that ray of light was Jim, finding a way to say hello.

Quilts extraordinaire

So, how can something that keeps you warm at night be a work of art? It can if it's made by Val Smith. How's this for a one-of-a-kind way self-portrait!

It's no surprise that among honours she's won are accolades from the Canadian Quilters' Association.

One of my favourites, this wheel (called 'An Eye for Colour') demonstrates her skill in manipulating colour. With its amazing attention to detail, this piece is exemplary of all of Val's work. You can see this from this close-up of one segment of the circle.

Beyond treating both abstractions and the whimsical, she's not afraid of taking on the political, as in this final piece, the 'pine beetle stamp'. While it's great to have the chance to see a private show of her work, I look forward to seeing a batch of her work in a gallery.

YVR, what a place!

Because a pal was passing through town and had a some stopover time, I drove out and met her for some lunch and a visit.

Maybe I was just feeling happy from our visit, but I was sure glad to see all those free carts. When I think of all the airports where you have to come up with a couple of bucks (often tricky if you haven't yet purchased local currency), I can't help but think these are a great PR move. I just hope the Olympic hype doesn't cause them to change the policy. Yay, YVR! In this instance, you rock.

Now, if only they'd initiate the first-half-hour free parking policy -- like the one they have at Buffalo's airport. It'd sure make those pick-up trips easier!

Not a bird, not a plane

And no, not Superman.

But it was pretty exciting to see the space shuttle fly overhead about an hour ago. It was super-bright and moving much faster than I'd expected -- I guess because it must be flying lower than most satellites. I'm used to tracking them on clear nights and though they move pretty quickly, this was downright speedy.

Maybe later tonight, if I'm lucky, I'll catch some of the annual Perseids.

A good day for art

Today is my son, the artist's birthday.

So not only did I have this to celebrate, there was an art opening at my local gallery. The work, a mixture of paintings (both figurative and abstract) and sculpture, was a retrospective by local artist John C. Butt. Here's a picture of John, with what he selected as his favourite piece -- at least for the night.

I especially loved the way he's used found objects in his sculptures: everything from reworked hunks of hundred-year-old cherry tree and recycled bolts to driftwood from White Rock beach. A nice mix.

First of the season

They may be a little late this year, but I'm glad they've arrived. This was about a four-minute pick.

A bit of a rinse, a splash of maple syrup, a dollop of vanilla yogourt. Yum!

Saturday night fireworks show

Last night was the grand finale of Vancouver’s Symphony of Fire for 2007. I suppose China must have won, though really, how could they not – apparently they were previewing special effects for next year’s Olympics. With Vancouver as the next player in that particular money-eating exercise, well, really, China pretty much had to win.

I wasn’t dedicated enough to make the trek into the city, but settled instead for our hokey little Sea Festival fireworks show in White Rock. There were surprisingly few people down at the beach. I guess everyone else must have braved the traffic and buses and gone in for the biggies.

All in all, a lovely night seaside.

Garage sale season

I can't believe how many garage sales there were today. Might be partly because it's a long weekend. Just about anything you might want.


Barbies looking pretty senior-ish.

Even the proverbial kitchen sink.

Happy 40th, DJB

You were born at 10:23 am on July 28th, 1967. With luck, I'm hoping this will be the year I get to meet you again. Heck, I'll even explain the significance of the name I gave you.

hg xxoo

On Hornby time

Again. We're lucky enough to make this visit almost every year. As you can see from the shot of the pasture, we get to pitch our tent in a pretty idyllic spot. Not a bad view, eh.

This year, I spent waaay too much of my Hornby time reading -- what else, the last installment of Harry Potter.

Hornby Island's a place where even I like to shop. This is saying a lot because I'm a person who usually hates shopping. My favourite store there? The one at the Recycling Depot, where they have a whole lot of everything. And the price is definitely right -- all of it's free.

Of course, there's more to a stay on Hornby than just reading and shopping. No day would be complete without a stroll down to Ford Cove for one of those patented West Coast sunsets.

in Cars: more than meets the eye

Although I admit to love watching high-end motorsports, I can't say I'm usually a fan of much else about cars. But look out, here comes a book to challenge that.

This book's a matter of poetry meets cars -- and roller-skating. But it's more than just wheels. It captures a sense of explosive teen energy, along with all that sweaty sex, complete with anticipatory aspects.

Of course, there's a much deeper core running along that double yellow line poet Kimmy Beach balances on as she takes us down the highway. These poems look unflinchingly into the face of shocking loss.

This range of emotional experience is balanced by enough musical references to make a complete soundtrack. I'm only sad that Turnstone couldn't provide an accompanying CD. Guess you'll just have to make your own. When you do, crank the volume and get ready for one heckuva ride.

More about the Thailand tour

As mentioned in an earlier post, the trip to Thailand meant beaches, temples, markets -- all that the brochures promise, but oh so much more.

Although we spent most of our time on the island of Ko Pha Ngan, we journeyed to Chayaphum (in the northern area of Isaan) and environs (national parks, more temples, a tiny village still dedicated to growing rice). We also spent a few days in Krung Thep (Bangkok), where we stayed on the 68th floor of the Baiyoke Sky, the tallest building in the city. We had spectacular views and it felt like unbelievable luxury (especially the bathtub!). What a contrast from the simple life we'd had, lounging in the hammock at our bungalow.

But contrast was ultimately what the country was about. So much was so different from the kind of life we're accustomed to in Canada. The street markets and food vendors, the easy-going pace, and maybe most of all, the amazing highway system. Of course, the fact that so many people drive motorbikes rather than cars frees up an incredible amount of space on the roads. Even during Bangkok rush hour, most vehicles seemed to keep moving, probably due, at least in part to the complex system of overpasses. And even when we were hours north of Bangkok, the highway was six to eight lanes wide. It seemed a far cry from what passes for infrastructure here in B.C.

I've not posted my photo album on a public site, so please let me know if you'd like the by-invitation link.

And oh yes, those pesky clothespegs. Jeez, but they were annoying! I seemed to spend more time re-assembling them than I did actually hanging out the clothes.

Leaving Vancouver

When I left for Thailand, I encountered this in the airport.

It's an image that stayed with me, especially as I knew I'd have a month where I wouldn't be able to drink any water but the bottled variety.

I'm not sure if the person tried to fill their bottle and then gave up, or if there was some other reason for leaving their empty where they did.

Quick post from Thailand

There'll be details once we get home. But highlights will include temples, beaches, and of course, the constant re-assembling of the falling-apart clothespegs. Who knew that laundry could provide so much entertainment?

Puzzle sale?

Yep, at the WR Library tomorrow.

More news in a month. For now, it's Sayonara.

Still more war games

So tonight's Stanley Cup game opened with General Rick Hillier doing another pep talk for the citizens of Canada. It really bugs me to have the game of hockey turned into a propaganda piece for the military. Sort of a repeat of the other night's events, only at least the US Marines didn't seem to have bought any advertising time on this game -- tonight's military advertising was all about the Canadian Forces. Mostly, it's a variation of the same ad they've been showing for about a year. It looks as though they just keep tweaking it to stay in tune with results of the current week's focus group results.

And then, to top it off, Don Cherry had to put in his two cents' worth on how all the fans just want more fighting in the game. To that, I say, speak for yourself, Don. When I watch a game, I want to see speed, inspired play, and, with luck, goals. Not fighting, not blood, not any glorification of war.

Oceans Day

This is what the ocean looks like in June in White Rock.

Offensive defence?

Hmmm. Was it the inclusion of the 'wrong' website that got my message fried? The fact that the corporate entity who'd bought sponsor time on the game was the Marines? That the announcers made reference to a 'tough game' with 'tough players' -- and that it seemed like they were talking about war as a game. Could that be enough to get your blog bounced??

Was it really forty years ago today?

...that Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play??

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.