Free verse to Clover
Lynn Daue has asked for a new book spine poem. This time I raided C's bookshelves. Give it a try...it's addictive.
It reads: Chloe,Shopgirl!What looks like crazy on an ordinary dayTaking time off, into thin airPower over stress, sex, drugs and cocoa puffsHow to become ridiculously well-read in one eveningI was told there’s be cake, ham on ryeNow you know moreSeriously...I’m kiddingNow you know almost everything.Yawn!
Down by the riverside
Found myself at the Fraser River in Delta with a couple of hours to kill on Wednesday. This was too good of an opportunity not to make a little peaceful movie. You can find it on the Media Tala Youtube website here: Down By the RiversideSorry about the pesky ad. It's because I've used some beautiful music by Agnes Obel.Here are a few of the images I used:
Flashy fiction
I've become a little addicted to flashy, flashy, flashy fiction. Ok, it's only Flashy Fiction but it's the name, such fun to say, isn't it. Go on...give it a try. Today De Miller Jackson posted a challenge to use all the words in the following word tornado...terrific fun.
counterproductiveovercompensate
wholeheartedlyabsentminded
juxtapositionphotogenicsasspirilla
vertabraemurmur
tumblevowellacyseebe
a
Here it is:“Look,” the photography instructor said,“The juxtaposition of those two items is all wrong.”“What the hell am I doing here?” he murmured“Look, see and learn. The photogenic aspect of food can only be achieved if you think a little and put some muscle into it; yes, your brain and your vertebrae. Move that table to the other window...someone bring me an aspirin...Oh my God, not there! And those lacy napkins certainly don’t work. Whose stupid idea was that? Be a little more inventive people! ”Some of the students moved some items on the table and nodded their heads and generally tried to overcompensate for their lack of experience.“Now, cameras at the ready, look for the light...wait for it...wait for it...”“Oh, God, you all missed it!” he shouted.He reached for the table and plucked up the soda can and shook it at the students in an absentminded way.“That’s it,” he screamed, “You’re a bunch of incompetents; I can’t possibly teach the fine art here.”As he walked away, he opened the can of sasspirilla which foamed and streamed right into his face. He tripped on some lighting cords, let out a single vowel and began to tumble across the floor and into the food table.Several cameras clicked away as students wholeheartedly sniggered and learned that setting up photo shoots is really counterproductive and kills spontaneous creativity.P.S. That particular class won all sorts of photography awards that season.
Book spine poetry, giving it a try
Last night I sat on the back of the sofa in my library with my head cocked sideways reading book spines till I got a crick in my neck. It was all Lynn’s fault. She posted this brilliant challenge and people in my writing group took it up with fantastic imaginations.As I sat there reading the spines all things ridiculous grabbed hold of my heart and wound their sticky tentacles around my soul till I was laughing.
Here are links to Misky’s, Margo’s, Linda’s, and De’s.I hope the energy for being silly is thick where you are. Go ahead, cut it with a butter knife and spread it on your toast.
A bit of random while the sun shines
Morgan is a chocolate box cat. If you look on the cover of a really good box of chocolates you’ll see Morgan’s little face there. I wish you could feel her fur. She feels like the softest rabbit right now. She leant against a dandelion seed head and the breeze sent the seeds in her direction. She was really annoyed about that.
Both the cats have something spring-crazy in them. Milo keeps jumping into the hedge and running around the garden like a mad nutter.Birds keep shouting down at him. Here: Mr and Mrs Rosy Housefinch for one. The local starlings aren’t too fond of him either.
The parrot tulips are completely outrageous right now.Don’t they just look like crazy twirling flamenco dancers? (I used to take flamenco lessons.) They make me want to dust off my shoes and dance a sevillana.
Morgan trying to be as cute as possible because she thinks people food is yummier than cat food...even Whiskas.
And this beautiful little bunch of lily of the valley. Don’t they look just right in hobnail? I swear that hobnail glass was invented for lily of the valley. (Oh, also for snowdrops.) I’ve put them in my bedroom because I can’t get enough of their sweet fragrance.
Kind of like little red riding hood...but different
Well, well, well, great minds really do think alike. Look at this vintage treasure my girls and I rounded up today.We chose these exquisite red things separately and brought them together at the cashier.
I set up a photo shoot to show you, but then, my artistic director decided to get her hand in.
I guess the shoot was missing a certain something.
Yeah...it was.
Where she rambles on and on about page 84 of 1984
C has just started a class of contemporary fiction. It’s an abbreviated course, heavy in reading, but hey...it gives her 3 more university credits. One of the assigned books is Orwell’s 1984. She hasn’t read it yet.I know, you’re shaking your head at my complete lack of guidance for my child.Actually, I have to be truthful, I don’t want her to read it! I have this urge to save all my children from exposure to evil. And Big Brother is all evil. I do sometimes wonder why I feel like that. You would think that exposing them to books with a difficult subject matter, like 1984, the Diary of Anne Frank, even Deborah Ellis’ The Bread Winner, would communicate an important life lessons in a way I can’t. (Actually, I was very upset when the kids had to read The Diary of Anne Frank in high school, and, when C did something very stupid as a teen, I gave her The Bread Winner to read as a possible punishment...she loved it!) I can see you shaking your head and muttering, "Oh for god's sake" under your breath.I guess my “protect the children from difficult subject matter” instincts may come from my experience of having to flee the Czech Republic as a child.I do waffle on!Back to 1984...We spent last autumn at West Cottage. It was so beautiful. The maples at the bottom of the garden shed mountains of leaves, the crab apple tree was absolutely resplendent with yellow fruit and the leaves on the cherry tree turned daily rainbows. I wanted to document it all and so, between enlarging bedrooms, raking up leaves and photographing everything in sight, I took time to make a small book to remind myself of that glorious October.Being the junk collector that I am, the book is made from found pieces. A large, posted manila envelope and an ordnance survey map make the covers. Inside, the pages are papers from an old sketchbook. And it is filled with my autumnal photos and drawings and origami folds, found feathers, vintage photos, an old broach, buttons, thread and found poems made from the books “A Brief History of the Wellington Boot” and “1984”.I found a copy of 1984 in the thrift store. It was missing the front cover and several pages, but the remaining pages were the most beautiful golden colour and had that soft-with-age feeling, you know, as if a breath could scatter the ashes.I chose page 83/84. On those pages is Winston, paralysed with paranoia about the thought police, as he walks away from Mr Charrington’s shop with the glass paper weight in his pocket. Such emotionally charged pages. But my mind pulled invisible words from the sentences so the found poem reads like this:
Though I don’t recollect any momentwhen Irecognizedthat I was going in the wrong directionI halted, and stood for several minutesIt was curious, buti was too paralyzed to move.There was no retracing steps.However - - ! i had already made up my mindthat the heart could be trusted.so I turned to the right and walked onhumming to an improvised tune - -On the opposite page is an analysis of Bach’s piano concerto in D minor with sketches of the last summer geraniums in watercolour pencils.So here’s the point of this story: (Thanks for not shouting, “Get to the point already”)The point is that something beautiful can come out of something frightening, ugly and even evil. Whether it’s a lesson, a growing experience, or just a nice memory. So I’ll encourage C to read on. After all, she’s already read To kill a Mockingbird, Into The Wild, Atonement and many others.And loved them.Maybe those books have had a hand in helping her become the beautiful young woman she is.
Catwoman in Loubutins
So I’m commiting to a challenge.
This is part of Vancouver Draw Down, a fun, quick, discipline. I have a confession to make. Last July I got thru the eight days of the month long challenge and other things took me away. I’m not good with discipline or with deadlines, or with ordered subjects.Not good. I know.I’m working on it.I suppose it’s the tremendous amounts of self motivation and resolve it takes to dedicate myself. And the accompanying feelings of failure at even the smallest unaccomplished goals are so powerful that it takes all my strength to rally back.One of my favorite inspirational people, artist Robert Genn, recently wrote about post traumatic growth. I love reading his blog, The Painter’s Keys. He makes a lot of sense.I’ve had past struggles...who hasn’t. So I can totally relate to the positive change in my work as a result of the past.Just now Genn suggested I follow superhero life lessons.So here we go:1. We all have alter egos (mine is super artist/writer/photographer all round perfect creator.)2. We need to wear the costumes of our heroes (so...mine happens to be cat woman in Loubutins. Hey...my fantasy)3. Being different can give us power (yeah...that’s a tough one. What hasn’t been done before? There are just only so many good ideas out there.)4. Adversity can be overcome (YES it can. Proof is everywhere I look.)5. No matter what our abilities, life is frustrating (Yup)6. To overcome our fears, we need to run toward danger (That’s the tough part)So here I go. I’m taking a big chance and if I don’t produce 31 drawings in the next 31 days then I’ll FAIL and it’s gonna sting. (But then...see point 4)There’s one more point7. Every superhero has a mission.Right now, mine is to produce 30 more drawings.
Ode to the M 21 Blackbird at the Seattle Museum of Flight
This is a love poem, an ode to the most beautiful type of plane in the world.
Ode to the M 21 Blackbird at the Seattle Museum of Flight.aerodynamic air compressortri-sonic speed photographerradar absorbing missile runnerblack skinned sensor eluderbig boy’s toyBlackbirdyou are a design constructed on a slide rulestealth measured over your surface inch by inchtransatlantic record holder30 mile per minute travelerterritory penetratorpeaceful mission flyergeography readerrevelatoryour alacrity meant no harmyou flew unarmed, unseentitanium alloy contortertwin Wildcat beatertriethylborane burnergelatinous fuel leakerbody expanderair breatheryour heart becomes blue hot, red hot, white hot, transparentyour thrust can drive an ocean linerpresidential prestige giverpower pursuervictory enablercelestial stalkerstatus symbolweaponyou flew ahead of a blue flame for 32 yearsyou exploded sound and vanisheddynamic pressure quantifiersplit second decision makertemperamental disintegratorpilot error, pilot killerpit viperHabuyou did not fracture, crash and burnyou departed controlled flightnostalgic warriormuseum treasuresilenced thunderadmired retireeheart amputeeartefactyour intimacy opened, exposed, acceptingyour gold-plated veins on display, caresseddream the American boysof gold suits glowinghold their breath and dim the lightsnavigate by the milky waychase the shooting starsand soar with youinto the blueinto the mach
Cinco de mayo
This special Saturday, this cinco de mayo day, we had a Mexican themed party for K and A and their new baby-to-be. For many friends this was the last time they would see K in one piece...so to speak...and we always welcome the chance to celebrate...well...anything, actually; we’re big on celebrations. So, welcome, come in and grab a taco and a Corona!K, enjoying the last few days before new baby.
Loads of yummy food including our homemade Hotter Than A Trophy Wife salsa.
Custom designed cups! K's said "mamacita"
The camera was passed around. This is "self-portrait with bump"
Aunty Chloe and Aunty Alex have binky
Smiles all round
Cigars on the front porch.
Private moment
It was a good day