Pause for a sugar dinner.
Okay Spring is in! I had JJ's paska for dinner, it is quite possibly the best. It's the best. My ma's monster cookies for dessert (am I five? Yes, plus twenty). Thanks ladies. I climbed up and down the mountain with Leo and then circled around town on my bicycle after work, thus balance.
Habs vs. Bruins.
Shit! Cal, I can just see you perched on the edge of the couch, leaning forward like a million other people right now. Hockey is nuts! Hockey fans in Montreal have the passion. The streets are wild. I saw countless people standing around outside with pizza slopping down chins during the commercials while riding home from JJ's. Canadiens, the lot of them. I flew around on my bicycle this evening, said adieu to my friend Maya who is leaving for the bush shortly to begin her season as foreman. Rookie year, hell yes.
Maya, you got this.
It's a big job. She is strong.
You have to be for that.
This music is really something. I walked into Creme's room last Saturday afternoon and slipped through this wall of rhythm while crossing the threshold. Guitar I had never heard before, asking how? before I could catch myself. Big sound, nineteen nineties. We hung out on his bed as we tend to, talked shop, he taught me plenty of photography knowhow in a matter of hours, layman's terms all the way. Darkroom dance for two, we laughed as we set up, him teaching as we went. I have been hungry for the darkroom ever since I met it. He helped me print one of the twins in a rocking chair.
Fishing test strips out of the water bath with little tongs. Can't wait. I came to appreciate my simple mind while visiting Winnipeg. Or maybe the practicality of it. It was a really nice afternoon together whatever it was, photos potentially to come. I traipsed to Rebecca's for a liquid dinner. Sushi, Big Red and cocktails with my woman. It was wonderful and the night kept unfolding like a gift. First came Rab, then Alfie and Andrew, then Grant and a run in with Josh Ruth. Skinny cigarettes on a concrete banquette. Curb side catch up conversation, very Winnipeg. It felt good, all of it, as there is none of that in Montreal yet. Well, not like that.
I am an awkward colt. Bolt.
My french is non. J'ecoute doesn't seem to cut it for sincere conversation these days. Lessons loom, and yet. What? I feel as if I am locked in a state, frozen, holding a stance for a reason unbeknownst to me. What will it take? I bolted from a vernissage last night. It wasn't even strictly french, I just panicked and left. On the way home I calmed thinking of walking up and down Rag's hallway, Willa in my arms. Babies calm. Meo draped on my shoulder. Three day old Cash, the tenderest feather neck I ever did hold. Children calm, the thought of them. Leo did something new today. We were on a mega journey downtown to pick up/ drop off and made sure to stop at every playground en route for a swing and a run about. He mucked around in little shoes and I scared the hell out of him on the bridge. BOO! He is hysterical. The new thing. We were cruising down the sidewalk and I heard him meowing about so I stopped and checked him out. As I leaned in, he leaned out with arms extended and asked for a hug in Leo speak (which has been sounding incredibly Portuguese these days). So we hugged in the middle of the hump at the foot of Mont Royal, spring settling in around us.
Leo hugs now. He can say shoe. He can Shhh extremely well. He laughed in the swing for the first time today, finally the sober judge laughs.
Babies, got to love them. I really do. My arrival to Winnipeg on the Easter weekend was met by my ma and my sis. We ran about together, realigning ourselves with the other, eating Vietnamese BBQ and laughing. We also bee lined for Andrea's house to meet her Willa Wonka. Willa! You beauty. Oh my goodness. I held that girl good and long, listening to my mom's laughter fill the front of house while Willa and I did laps in the back. Weaving into rooms I know and have known. Helping myself, enjoying the baby's healthy weight. Chubalub contentedness, the baby sitting in great buddha against my breast. She is perfect.
I was nervous too.
Winnipeg was wonderful. It is a strange thing, to visit a place once called home. Winnipeg is no longer my home but will always be family. Which is even better. I wept the entire shuttle bus ride back to my home on Clark. Tears of guilt, release, thankfulness, you name it. They came one by one. The hanky from my back pocket soiled with baby snot wiped just hours before under Winnipeg sun, happy little faces at ease with my lens. I dabbed my face with it anyways. Looked down at my hands, proud of who I am and where I came from and continued to cry with my eyes shut, head bowed, not worried about who saw.
What will the wind bring this Spring? Records, apparently. All signs point inwards.
Lee Ranaldo here I come. This dress is the dress for me.
|BCBG stripes; Montreal, 2011.|
|Ze back; Montreal, 2011.|
|House guest try on party; Montreal, 2011.|