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Showing posts from May, 2013

where have all the flowers gone?

More work for Ariel . The world is soaked through with ideas like arteries, and overgrown, but never because of too many poems.

1001

Have you ever seen one of those death scenes in the classic-old-movie style, where the character clenches his stomach or his chest and stumbles through a doorway or down a corridor or a road and his face is crushed through with pain and even tears and most of all a kind of ruin and regret within himself and he falls and struggles to his feet and staggers on until he collapses in the street or topples over the balcony or even better off the cliff? No? Well anyway: I ran the 5K at the Ottawa Race Weekend this Saturday. C ran the 10. While Oona hung out with Uncle Nick's mom and ate chicken fingers and ice-cream. Only one of these stories has a pain-free ending. * * * * * This is post number 1001. What you have seen here over the years cannot be unseen, but please remember that drinking helps.

new haircut for a summer not here

Someone got a new haircut yesterday ... short for summer! Unfortunately, summer sort of stalled the very next day -- we had to wear layers and hoods on our walk to daycare this morning, and everything feels stuck like April. * * * * * Walking I mean running a 5K this weekend. I have not even practiced, let alone trained. If I don't make it, everyone please remember that I still had much meaner things to say to you all.

random notes on wednesday

in question 103 ; ink on paper (the pencil marks were already on the page from the book's original owner); 5.25 x 8.5 inches. In the shop . * * * * * In a picture window of a house on the north side of York Street, between Cherry and Carlyle, you can find a handwritten note that reads: Thanks for picking all the tulips. Now we have none. ASSHOLES. * * * * * As soon as people start talking about the resolution or definition on their television, I walk away. With all my heart, I cannot think of anything less important -- and less relevant to the movie or show -- than how clear the picture is. Resolution is what people talk about when they are capable of saying nothing about what they just watched. * * * * * Saw a little movie called Headhunters which revealed itself to be (a)unpredictable and (b)suspenseful. Even C stayed awake for it. Norwegian! Low resolution! * * * * * Walking to 'school'

something i read this weekend

you can't live on the stairs (it's either up or down) ; pencil and inks on paper. * * * * * Namely, an article about the de-evolution of Canadian politics by Elizabeth Renzetti . I have more than a few problems with the Globe, which on most weekdays resembles the bastard flyer child of Sears and RBC, but the weekend edition still holds out a few readables, and this column was one of them. The gist: our political system is getting dirtier while the electorate grows more cynical (and dumb, reduced to a kind of meanness over dollars and cents) and the only growth in public discourse is the sound of silence, as more and more people don't participate at all. And then here's my two cents -- people only care about housing prices, employment (but only their own), and schools (but only the ones their own kids go to). That's it, that's what it's all boiled down to. Yes, there are a few hot buttons that can still be pushed -- abortion, terrorism, c

another little monster

alpha-bestiary (for nannies and ayahs and kindermädchen) ; ink on paper, 8.5 x 9.75 inches. * * * * * Victoria Day long weekend. It seems to have just suddenly arrived -- especially after a week of freezing. I have a bee nest to put up (thank you, C) because not only do I like bees, but I *especially* like solitary bees, for all sorts of more than obvious reasons. Whatever your plans, I hope that you -- like all Canadians -- take a moment to celebrate the glory that is Victoria Principal . Happy Victoria Day!

i could be anyone

* * * * * Part of another collaboration with Ariel , but this time I'm doing pictures *and* prose. -- And then here's her response .

from station weekend oona

All Radio Oona this weekend as mommy swanned off for scenic train rides, fancy hotels and bottomless glasses of wine. If Oona had decided there was a theme to our weekend, it might have been this: I WILL SHARE EVERY THOUGHT THAT I HAVE WITH YOU, DADDY. Some highlights: You smell lucky, daddy. I am busy. I am making little eyes. Mommy's gone, right? And we'll never see her again, right? I can't clean that up. My hands are full of crayons. There are three little holes in all my papers. There are three little hairs on this banana. You need a button, daddy. You need a button to know you're a person. There is an equally disturbing video here .

no time is the wrong time

Have not had time for much this week (more, later) so I'll let my younger brother Jon (one of three younger brothers) pick up the slack by posting some of the drawings he sends me, from time to time. Done digital(ly), which is not something I can do. Kid also has formal training and such. Maybe I will too, someday. Go lottery!

saturdaysundaymonday

drawing for lunch * * * * * Watched Paris, Texas on Saturday night. C fell asleep. I finished the movie. And then I got up and shrugged. * * * * * Still looking for a decent movie about the Romans, I watched The Eagle on Sunday night. C fell asleep. I finished the movie. It was actually pretty good (slower, moodier than you'd guess) until the end, which was a bit dumb.

skeletons from singapore

These skeletons are from Singapore, the origin of many fine things . * * * * * Speaking of fine things, C has her own shop now, for Upstart titles . * * * * * And finally, as crazy as the CBC makes me, Neil Macdonald has a good series about money (and the fiction of it) going on here .