December 2019 it was. On what shore have those thirty years of white ribbons left us? At the bottom of which sea are all the surrendered arms? L. Cohen sang “in streams of light I clearly saw/the dust you seldom see,/out of which the Nameless makes/a Name for one like me.” In considering the Montreal […]
thoughts on the 30th anniversary of the Montreal massacre Read More »
…are needed to complete a piece, or at least to call it complete. The path I try to follow, gleaned from several sources is: be curious, question, explore, collect ideas, learn skills, file, filter, reflect, experiment, watch for creative collisions, prototype, work, deadline, deliver, repeat! My deadline in this case was to complete a poem
so many things, so much time… Read More »
Back in December I posted my sketchbook and notebook ideas for Stanchion. I knew at least one version of it would be a haptic poem and the result is in Gallery. A ‘verse’ in barnboard and barbed wire, saying something or nothing about fences, walls, barriers, all of our own making. Another version of Stanchion
you, stanchion, are standing – but for or against? bend and resonate – be guitar, lute, xylophone, flute; your song is free and will travel air upon air mia burrus feb/20
Stanchion – a fragment Read More »
…of colour among many other things. This week the cheap thrill of pink inspired my shutter finger and pen-in-hand. In mere days the view outside my window has filled with green, emptying my duff- and kapok- filled synapses of winter’s shades of grey. If only we could give a gift of pretty fresh picked flowers
we’ve been starved… Read More »
The seemingly endless unmonetized virtual concerts on YouTube only make me think of the concert Vicky and I were so fortunate to see in person on March 3 – The Indigo Project, by Tafelmusik and Suba and Trichy Sankaran and two student choirs. With no living, breathing encore performance on the horizon, this concert has
Perhaps it was another grey-sky day that made me think of stones, and monuments and things incised thereon. The images here were taken many springs ago at the Guild Inn. (I’m not sure if it was an inn then – it went in and out of innship.) The salvaged stoneworks that adorn the gardens are
it’s never set in stone Read More »
I started with the intention of sharing a small abstraction of spring and a haiku, spare, in keeping with my sparsely furnished, lock-down cranium. But of course, the real joy of spring crept in to my workspace – inevitable – my wee granddaughter Mila Grace. Here she is asleep, a single grown-up thumb for reference!
spring abstractions and distractions Read More »
It’s still me and the birds outside the window. To honour the brave wee souls I have displayed in Gallery two bird themed pieces. The photo-haiga using found text is from the old Canary Restaurant in Toronto’s port lands. (The building has been restored along with the rest of the Distillery area and has been
Isn’t all poetry and art put together from serendipitous elements? Scissors and time in hand, I sat down and ran with my scissors through an old New York Times Style magazine, looking for eye-catching images to excise. (In these days of quarantine, that may be the highest and best use of the New York Times
Collage and Assemblage Read More »