Friday, January 7, 2011

Things in their place.

This morning I woke to bright light pouring into a bedroom not my own, the bed empty save for my own body. I leaped out, afraid of being late and threw myself together. Last night's stripes, broken pants, lines from the bedsheets on my face, sweaters on my teeth.

Pat was waiting for me downstairs holding a bike lock and a snowboard helmut. Happy riding indeed. He kindly lent me his ten speed Peugeot (made me think of Alfie) and I flew downtown in mere minutes (I had not ridden a bicycle with gears in over two years, so exciting), arriving just before the doors swung open at the Health card place. Health card, check. One step closer to Quebec residency. Woooh!

I peddled light and easy (low gear) back up the mountain, northwards, pushing exhaustion aside and looking so forward to eating the giant orange tucked in my messenger bag.

Leo was asleep by the time I arrived at his house, and now I can hear him singing gibberish in to the toy microphone he got for Christmas. One present in a sea of a cool million, and the microphone is his no. 1 choice. Yesterday he walked around the house talking into not one, but two old phones, the spiral cord snaking through the house. Where is Leo? Follow the telephone trail. What a guy.

I tossed and turned last night in bed, fitful as all get out which is usual for me. Names for new business, the sudden idea of a very hungry Lila (she is constantly at the forefront, a cat! Who would have thought) who I forgot to feed, images of crests brandishing themselves into the soft walls of night-thought, art projects, portfolio, portfolio, portfolio! It is nearly that time!!!!!!!! I am so exciting to begin the construction of my newest portfolio. Once I am settled into Lo's I will then begin the addition and plucking process, but for now it is all papery works, mental checklists, ideas ideas ideas! It feels good to be back on the inspiredtrain again. Goodness, what a dry spell this winter! Dolls and a few drawings, meager crop. But the best part of winter is nearly here (the great close of the season, my favorite) and like last year, I have two months to draw, draw, draw, to sew, sew, sew, to write, write, write. Most of my photowork for the Photography admission has been nipped in the bud thanks to the last photo crop. I will need help with selection, but thankfully I have wonderful people around me in this city who know how and why I shoot. This kind of groundedness and group critiquing making it all the easier on me when it comes time to trim the photo fat.

It is the Studio Arts portfolio that has me stumped. I see a crest. I see a crest. I see a crest. There will be a goddamned crest!!!!! But how? Oh the hours I have spent stewing in bed, a cauldron of ideas simmering, not quite ready to serve. Last year I took a mail themed route, and this year the simple thing to do would be to do something similar. Fuck easy! I detest the easy route, that is just not me, even if it kills me. So, what then? I should explain: what is needed is a holder of sorts to keep both the Photo and the Studio Arts (silkscreen, textiles, illustration, etc) portfolios close together. The presentation of this very marriage of the two is of upmost importance to me. I want this unknown panel of people to open something handmade when the time comes. Something that can be passed around, opened with care, examined, touched, held at an arms length. This yet-to-be-created vehicle that somehow ties my two creative interests together seamlessly telling a great story in the process. Like two parts of the body, together and separate. A soft package, beautiful all over. How? How? How? Aghhhhhh.

In retrospect, I can imagine the exact moment after Sara's 26th perogy birthday on January 25, 2010 at Aunty Marj's house in Rosie when I returned home to the Golden Studio and sat on the floor when it came to me. A letter. If I know anything at all, I know letters. That knowing has yet to come, but I am so looking forward to it! In all honesty, I anticipate it won't make an appearance in thought until I am GOOD AND SETTLED in my new home on rue Clark. Mise en place. Everything in place, that old familiar post-move feeling which NEVER came to me (now knowing it never will) after moving into my current home on Dollard Avenue. And that is okay. I look forward to that feeling, to the first nail head ringing out: I am home!

In due time.

Now, the microphone boy has fallen back to the wayside of sleep (hallelujah!) and all I can do is keep on crest dreaming, keep on drawing weird versions of people I find on the internet, keep on shooting strangers and practicing my meek french. Est ce-que je peux prend votre photograph? Sorry if I butchered it. Pourquoi? Parce que vous etes charmaint. Aunty Daryl, comment sais dit "because you have a charming face" en francais? Yikes, I have a lot of work to do!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, to close, here is a video that Richard and Sara sent to me on the same day! I have to name one of my children Vivian now in honor of this quiet woman. Her work is spotless beauty. What an eye. Goodness, counting down the darkroom minutes.

Click HERE to watch.


  1. Thanks for passing that video along -- inspiring wonder.

  2. Vivian. Holy Shit. Her work is amazing.