…Christmas on the heels of the solstice is a mixed bag o’ gifts. (Coal and diamonds are related, after all.) Tonight, a fire in the fireplace, a glass of wine, A Child’s Christmas in Wales on the stereo, and reflections on a creative day, and indeed a creative year. Love to all.
Dark blue days and thoughts of love… Read More »
Sept /19 Such a chewy word. Stanchion. Stanchioned. Stanchionesque. From the Latin, sto, stare, stedi, statum – stand. And from Phoebe Wang’s poem Invasive Carp. The images that came to mind have lots of linear elements and could be a haptic poem – tactile not textual. Oct/19 Then again, stanchions like snow fences are porous
Notes for Stanchion Read More »
…it sometimes feels like end of times. All the more do we appreciate the coming renewal, Gordon Lightfoot’s ‘the promise of spring’, as we inject blood red days into winter’s flat palette. Fire, ribbons, roast, sparkle. To match the mood, reading room presents a poem I wrote with John over the kitchen table, literally passing
As we slide from birthday to end of year… Read More »
…doesn’t require costly equipment behind which you can hide, special clothes that proclaim you ‘artist’, paid up dues that are heavy with obligation. There is just the empty page, the will to pick up the pencil and make the first mark, and a quantity of non-commoditized, quality time; remembering to turn your internal judge and
The creative workout… Read More »
This week I share some of my creative process. I’m always interested in others’ ways of creating, almost as much as I am in the creations themselves. Every week I spark the creative fire by looking for an image and investigating why it captured me, reading a poem and commenting upon it, randomly choosing a
So many questions… Read More »
… within the present intersection of: Theory U and the 3D Mapping exercise from MIT’s U-Lab, The Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram, Sacred Economics by Charles Eisenstein. There’s no time like the present to acknowledge that the future need not look like the past. The photos are my solo attempt at 3D Mapping,
Thinking about the future… Read More »
I listened to the universe and hearda lyric waltz that called me out to singand dance. I couldn’t understand the words,knew not the steps, my dance card was a blank,the dance floor just thin air, yet was assuredI had a place, a voice, within the song.
Being Present with the Future Read More »
For those who missed the poetry mosh pit at the Spirit of the Hills Festival of the Arts, the reading room’s latest offering is the poem I recited there, matched in mood by the image in gallery.
Something about this building, on Commissioners Street in Toronto, and indeed the entire brownland east of downtown, has always attracted me. What we called ‘the bridge and tunnel drive’ – Commissioners, Unwin, Cherry, Canary, was a favourite drive of my son’s when he was young. The literally proud Visitor Parking sign now presides over emptiness.
in the gallery and reading room Read More »
Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words – the heartbreaking winning photo from the 2019 World Press Photo Exhibition for instance https://www.worldpressphoto.org/collection/photocontest/winners/2019. Sometimes a picture is beyond words, wordless, or simply beyond.