Days have two types. Those when I have to leave the house and those when I get to stay in.
And when time comes, I can rise and shine.
Events coming up include
April 30, 8pm, Platform Gallery, Ottawa
An upcoming vernissage at Platform Gallery, 51 A Young Street will be abstract art by Dan Sharp, Ted Willis and Georgia Mathewson. During the evening there will be a performance of The Quatuor-Gualuor a sound poetry group of jw curry, Georgia Mathewson, Rachel Lindsey and Brian Pirie. For She Was a Visitor and Glass on the Beach, a few extra voices will come in, Robert Rosen, Alistair Larwill, and Pearl Pirie.
Willow or won’t you be my springtime?
I didn’t end up raising the camera at a single vineyard in St. Catharines but here are photos of our BorderBlur and BookThug launches.
This evening, one more go, I’ll be reading as part of Thuggery at Ottawa Writers Fest.
I’ve also been fleshing out Looking on the Bri Side, filling in the early 2000s. This fall will be the 20th anniversary of our honeymoon. How crazy is that?
I dreamt I wanted to write but when I got to the keyboard it was grey and black and I couldn’t see the keys and would have to clean it before I began. When I woke it seemed to me about the issue of write as therapy or get yourself sorted then write. Am I not on top of processing life? Maybe. But as much as dream may spring from deep or shallows, dreams are like talkers. They may perceive but may get facts wrong.
I don’t like repeating myself. But glitch — I’m not sure what the overlap is between people here, on twitter, at instagram, Flickr or Facebook, to email, with other blogs. I suppose it doesn’t matter. Important thing or fuddle is. What is housed on someone else’s space isn’t mine, exactly.
Been searching for old photos but we used to tolerable tiny ones for small bandwidth but here’s some literary way back time machine. If they were print photos back to full size would be easier. Wonder what I read. John Newlove event?
An idea passed along from Rosemary,
Spirit Rock Meditation Center
1. Make a list of things that make you happy.
2. Make a list of things you do every day.
3. Compare the lists.
4. Adjust accordingly.
Now that’s an excellent idea, a step further than looking at glad-points.
To distance oneself from things that aren’t working leaves room to embrace things that are or could work even better.
As a primary school teacher chanted and taunted “you can’t always do what you want” but how is trade-off vs. payoff ratio?
Proportion’s the thing. How long something stays in the head and body compared to the actual doing. What do I enjoy?
Sitting and walking outside in weather that doesn’t feel like it’s trying to kill me. (Who doesn’t?)
Doing improv from what I know to new content. For example, how rhythm or short lines could fit and complement this other set of ideas in a poem. Or principles of what the parts in a biscuits do for chemistry and flavour and what other ingredients do.
Making a meal that works. (Last one didn’t. Nutrition but not so much flavour balance. But outcomes aren’t the thing. If you fail that means you’re more likely to be trying.)
What do I do every day? Search with a thumb on the book’s remote to find a phrase a like. Or a section of a poem. Maybe even a whole poem. Or few.
It’s hard to slow down to read instead of scan. Aloud helps but so much seems not built for the tongue.
What’s a daily that I don’t enjoy? Not being able to find books because they scatter over the desk, room, house.
What I dislike, tidying in the act, but do in the effect., that is to function. An orderly space helps the orderly pace of work.
What I enjoy: having everything within reach and knowing where everything is. Having a system I can control so I can can go as fast as possible without being tripped by any impasse.
What do I like? Putting away laundry in a rainbow arrangement. If it’s a top, formal or informal, it goes from black to white to grey to green to blue to purple to pink to red to orange to brown. Stopping the cacophony of colour ensures morning is one step less taxing.
What’s to like? One person enjoying a line, an idea, a poem, the ride of my poem. Engaging on them.
I enjoy watching people stretch themselves out of their comfort zone, until they become comfortable and capable and then stretch again, becoming more confident and centred in their skin instead of bunched up in one shoulder.
Maybe a list of pleasures and displeasures too small but it’s the little things. The stopping and resting for conversation without purpose, the leaning against one another, being each other’s furniture, the ease that comes after the minute to minute paying attention to create later ease.
I don’t come from a cultural inheritance of maintenance but fatalism. Dad would buy rotten vehicles that he finished wearing into the ground. I saw him change oil, which was rare, it was thicker than molasses. And he was even harder on his body. Deny it and see if that won’t fix it’s ___. Things didn’t get repaired just used until deemed irreparable. Some of Bring Poor rings too true.
I want a different model that’s more sustainable, more joyful, more caring for the process, more about choice rather than presumed defaults. It takes a long time for the now to catch up with the now.