...of two moons stayed with me all day. Almost everything I looked at reminded me of the image. I saw Titan in the cat's eye. A bee. The arm of the sofa in the sun room. The painting I see every time I leave this room. Enceladus was the back of a jumping spider. The head of an ant. The bit of sky the poplar leaves let through. The bubbles in the cup just after it's filled with coffee. I should've written a poem about it, but just seeing the moons everywhere was enough.
The weather forecast looks promising, so I'll be tromping through the forest and the bogs for the next few days. I'll post again next week.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
The first poem I read today
...was a new poem by a poet who I chat with almost daily. I saw a few versions of the poem last night. I read it again this morning while I sipped on my first cup of coffee. Both the poem and the coffee hit the spot.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
The first poem I read today
...was "Absurdio" by George Elliott Clarke from Blue. The second word of the first line is "bah," a word I use all the time though rarely with the exclamation that's found in the poem. "Bah!" goes the speaker in the poem, and the exclamation belongs there. My day-to-day "bah" is generally more of a breath, the type of sound made when you finally sit down after working all day outside when it's hot and humid and you're sweating and in need of a jug of water. Sometimes my "bah" is the breeze-softened sound of a calf in the distance, just under a hill. Bah.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
The most interesting article I read today
...was about the rise of raunch culture. It brought to mind a particular post over at Politics'n'Poetry and the comments that followed.
Monday, June 19, 2006
If I were a foraging monkey
...I have a good idea what I'd do if a team of people were following me around.
The only things that followed me around today were mosquitoes, and they did a good job of keeping pace. While that didn't impress me, I am happy to say I took the day off. I didn't write. I didn't paint. I didn't do any research. Instead I walked and biked and pulled weeds. I read about bats and monkeys. I was foraging.
The only things that followed me around today were mosquitoes, and they did a good job of keeping pace. While that didn't impress me, I am happy to say I took the day off. I didn't write. I didn't paint. I didn't do any research. Instead I walked and biked and pulled weeds. I read about bats and monkeys. I was foraging.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Sure math and magic
...go hand in hand, but I wasn't ready for the joke at the end of this article. I know I said I'd post again next week, but I just had to stop by and share this with you.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
What feminist archaeology really is
...and why it's so controversial. Imagine an archaeologist trying to study my activities and roles as a women within my society. The thought makes me giggle.
I'll post again next week.
I'll post again next week.
Neuroscientists should examine
...the frontopolar cortex and sulcus of writers if they want to see action.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Today I settled
...into a painting. As the figure came to life, the day expanded and contracted and disappeared. I love when that happens.
The first poem I read today
...was "Emergence" by P.K. Page from Planet Earth: Poems Selected and New.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Memorizing poetry
...is part of the school curriculum in Russia. The last paragraph makes me want to grab a candle and head up to the attic.
The first poem I read today
...was "Gift" by Leonard Cohen from Stranger Music.
The last poem I'll read on this exciting day is this poem by Emily Dickinson.
The last poem I'll read on this exciting day is this poem by Emily Dickinson.
I'm actually reading
...this novel right now. I bought it after Miriam Toews mentioned it during her talk at Talking Fresh in 2005, but I hadn't got around to reading it until now.
Monday, June 12, 2006
The first poem I read today
...was "Poem" by Leonard Cohen from Stranger Music, which was given to me recently by a poet who had two copies. The gift made the absence of Nanaimo bars more bearable.
A poet laureate's take on the Stanley Cup playoffs
...appears at the end of this article. I should try "looking at it out of the side of my eye" as well. At it and a number of other things.
It's raining hard
...so I'm at home, catching up on news and yapping with poets. I love rainy days. I just spent some time over at wood s lot, a gorgeous, mind-widening site that has long been a favourite of mine. Today's post has certain relevance to an ongoing conversation that has been lighting up my inbox of late. Even on this rainy day, everything is incredibly bright.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Lately I've been bogged down
...in a bog.
These are a few of the things I saw today. I'll spend the next several days carefully tromping through bogs, getting wet and getting eaten by mosquitoes and black flies. Then I'll sit on the rocks and watch H photograph spiders. Maybe I'll paint. Maybe I'll write. Maybe I'll just sit there. We'll see.
These are a few of the things I saw today. I'll spend the next several days carefully tromping through bogs, getting wet and getting eaten by mosquitoes and black flies. Then I'll sit on the rocks and watch H photograph spiders. Maybe I'll paint. Maybe I'll write. Maybe I'll just sit there. We'll see.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The day of the Griffin awards
...was pure fun. H and I saw all sorts of things, including a team of men in kilts throwing a nerf football across traffic and teams of people in "Amazing Race" t-shirts racing across Bloor, some much faster than others. One driver got out and screamed at a cab driver while waving a broom at him. Another driver gave the finger to someone else and got two back in return, proving that some Toronto drivers can indeed drive without their hands.
We took a cab to the Griffin awards event. No one was allowed in until 7 p.m. sharp, so we wandered around. We actually ran into someone we knew even before we went in. Once they stroked our names off the list, the large men in suits let us in the door.
Just as we began to march across the rose petals into the huge, hyper-coloured room, we were ambushed by Bookninja.
George Murray proved to be every bit as charming in person as he is on the blog. Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer was lovely to talk to as well. We ended up at the same table for dinner.
We shook hands with Scott Griffin, the host and founder of the prize, who greeted us and more than 400 others. Then it was time to eat, drink and merrily giggle. The appetizers were carried around on little silver trays and the servers smiled while they named each ingredient. H ate his weight in appetizers. I ate my weight in sweets. Everything was glorious.
After the winners were announced - yay! congratulations! - it was time for dessert. George and Kathryn led us to the chocolate fountains. Dark chocolate for me and milk chocolate for those who are not true chocolate lovers. H collected souvenirs. Butterflies, a lantern, a scarf. He even tried to talk the tunic people out of a tunic (all the servers wore bright tunics of either fuchsia or purple - I wanted a purple one), but, alas, no tunic was forthcoming. I concentrated on the chocolate.
After we filled up on sweets and visited with yet another familiar face from St. Peter's, we headed to the crowded dance floor. People were dancing like mad. Imagine. There we were dancing to Abba's "Waterloo" and just a shimmy or two away was Michael Ondaatje, dancing to "Waterloo" too. It was divine. Thank you, Sylvia.
It was late by the time we crawled into a cab. We were giddy, at least at first. The windows were down part way and the breeze was refreshing. At the first red light the cab driver put the back windows up as gaunt, young people brushed against the cab with their hands out, asking for money. He did the same at the next red light and every red light thereafter.
Then came the aftertaste of chocolate.
We took a cab to the Griffin awards event. No one was allowed in until 7 p.m. sharp, so we wandered around. We actually ran into someone we knew even before we went in. Once they stroked our names off the list, the large men in suits let us in the door.
Just as we began to march across the rose petals into the huge, hyper-coloured room, we were ambushed by Bookninja.
George Murray proved to be every bit as charming in person as he is on the blog. Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer was lovely to talk to as well. We ended up at the same table for dinner.
We shook hands with Scott Griffin, the host and founder of the prize, who greeted us and more than 400 others. Then it was time to eat, drink and merrily giggle. The appetizers were carried around on little silver trays and the servers smiled while they named each ingredient. H ate his weight in appetizers. I ate my weight in sweets. Everything was glorious.
After the winners were announced - yay! congratulations! - it was time for dessert. George and Kathryn led us to the chocolate fountains. Dark chocolate for me and milk chocolate for those who are not true chocolate lovers. H collected souvenirs. Butterflies, a lantern, a scarf. He even tried to talk the tunic people out of a tunic (all the servers wore bright tunics of either fuchsia or purple - I wanted a purple one), but, alas, no tunic was forthcoming. I concentrated on the chocolate.
After we filled up on sweets and visited with yet another familiar face from St. Peter's, we headed to the crowded dance floor. People were dancing like mad. Imagine. There we were dancing to Abba's "Waterloo" and just a shimmy or two away was Michael Ondaatje, dancing to "Waterloo" too. It was divine. Thank you, Sylvia.
It was late by the time we crawled into a cab. We were giddy, at least at first. The windows were down part way and the breeze was refreshing. At the first red light the cab driver put the back windows up as gaunt, young people brushed against the cab with their hands out, asking for money. He did the same at the next red light and every red light thereafter.
Then came the aftertaste of chocolate.
Our Griffin adventure
...was an adventure indeed. On May 31, after a short night's sleep and a very early flight, we stepped out of the terminal at Pearson and into the heavy heat of Toronto. H and I both work out and are rather fit, so we thought we'd expose ourselves to what the environment had to offer. We spent hours and hours walking the streets at a brisk pace, experiencing the city through our eyes, our feet and our lungs.
We spent a lot of time cruising Bloor Street. I photographed pigeons.
They were by far the friendliest pigeons I'd ever encountered. However, not everyone appreciates their friendliness. A well dressed, perfectly groomed woman whacked at a pigeon with her handsome umbrella as she waited for a walk light. The pigeon moved just out of her reach and then continued to peck at the sidewalk.
After that, we visited Book City on Bloor, the one near Brunswick. It's a lovely store and we felt quite at home there. H bought a couple books. I smiled at familiar titles by authors from out west. Sharon Butala, Trevor Herriot, Myra Kostash and, of course, Sylvia Legris.
That evening we walked to the shortlist readings. It was still very hot. We arrived early, so we sat in the courtyard at the Faculty of Music. There a quiet couple had lunch. A steady stream of people walked by, iPods between them and the begging gulls, aggressive squirrels and the young woman who was screaming on and on at a man. When it began to appear as if the screaming would never stop, we went inside.
Because we were early, we got the best seats in the house. The event was sold out. In the crowd were many faces I'd only seen before on book jackets. It was great to be part of that crowd, listening and laughing and clapping together. The readings were incredible and incredibly flawless. Sylvia was amazing. I was practically tingling when we left.
We stepped out of the building into a remarkably different night. It had rained. It was cool and fresh. We grabbed a pizza and ate it as we strolled back down Bloor, dodging puddles and people. Even at that hour Bloor was full of people.
The Madison Manor Boutique Hotel, which Tracy had recommended, was lovely and quiet. It's just a stone's throw from Bloor. There we slept and I dreamed a million faces, faces with expressions I'll never forget and can easily draw if I want.
We spent a lot of time cruising Bloor Street. I photographed pigeons.
They were by far the friendliest pigeons I'd ever encountered. However, not everyone appreciates their friendliness. A well dressed, perfectly groomed woman whacked at a pigeon with her handsome umbrella as she waited for a walk light. The pigeon moved just out of her reach and then continued to peck at the sidewalk.
After that, we visited Book City on Bloor, the one near Brunswick. It's a lovely store and we felt quite at home there. H bought a couple books. I smiled at familiar titles by authors from out west. Sharon Butala, Trevor Herriot, Myra Kostash and, of course, Sylvia Legris.
That evening we walked to the shortlist readings. It was still very hot. We arrived early, so we sat in the courtyard at the Faculty of Music. There a quiet couple had lunch. A steady stream of people walked by, iPods between them and the begging gulls, aggressive squirrels and the young woman who was screaming on and on at a man. When it began to appear as if the screaming would never stop, we went inside.
Because we were early, we got the best seats in the house. The event was sold out. In the crowd were many faces I'd only seen before on book jackets. It was great to be part of that crowd, listening and laughing and clapping together. The readings were incredible and incredibly flawless. Sylvia was amazing. I was practically tingling when we left.
We stepped out of the building into a remarkably different night. It had rained. It was cool and fresh. We grabbed a pizza and ate it as we strolled back down Bloor, dodging puddles and people. Even at that hour Bloor was full of people.
The Madison Manor Boutique Hotel, which Tracy had recommended, was lovely and quiet. It's just a stone's throw from Bloor. There we slept and I dreamed a million faces, faces with expressions I'll never forget and can easily draw if I want.
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