Category Archives: Journal

Sitting ducks

Journal

“…she had in mind the dead as well as the living.”-In Cold Blood

A lot of dead lately, and death. Cards of condolence. The island has been rocked by the passing of four-or is it five-residents, the youngest nineteen, in a car accident, naturally. The driver is the son of a good friend, and fortunately survived. I have tried to contact him but I hear he is camped out at the hospital every day, in the intensive care unit. God. It must be awful. And now a mystery, a teenaged girl missing.

Walking the dogs this morning, I was annoyed to find SamIAm had killed a duckling. Poor thing. Out of its element. Sam can never catch them in the water, they just calmly swim away, but this little guy was on the ground; there was no way he could out run my maniac dog. I dashed over to the sound of frantic quacking, pulled Sam off, hoping the creature was okay. I tried to pick it up but it was all floppy, its neck must have been broken. I leashed Sam, took him back to the house, returned to find the thing dead and Mother duck swimming circles in the pond, waiting for his return with her lone remaining duckling. So sad! Man, life is cruel. All the while a helicopter hovered above, searching for Jodi Henrickson missing since last Saturday, a girl from Squamish who hasn’t been seen since attending a house party over here. Now I wonder as I watch turkey vultures circling, could she be dead? They didn’t realize she was missing until about three days later. I hope she will be found safe and sound somehow. I feel for her family, what a nightmare.

Wind picking up, skies are clear as I bask in a spot of solitude, recovering from hosting three days of Junior’s annual School’s Out/Summer’s In party and entertaining seven 14-year old boys. They ate a Continue reading →

Birdlife bliss; list of species observed at our Bowen Island feeder

Journal

I am always happy to wake to birdsong! Blessed.

I am much amused lately by the hummingbird feeder and the Rufous Hummingbirds. I have avoided hummingbird feeders in the past probably because they are usually quite garish but the other day while buying seed at Wild Birds Unlimited I found one that is like a box. They have the loveliest things in that store, it’s hazardous to my wallet to shop there. Anyway, this feeder is simple, sublime and pretty, really like a Jewel Box as it is called. Of course it requires more assembly than I thought so I just Continue reading →

Gazebos, golf, books, shows, deadlines and more!

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I just walked through some woods on our property that I haven’t been in before. We picked out a spot for our gazebo, overlooking the pond and adjoining creek. It’s lovely, veiled by spruce and cedar boughs, the white noise, music of rushing water close by. My first opportunity to blog in a while, so going back in time . . .

Saturday, May 9, 09

At the Magnolia Hotel, in the morning, with Pete, after driving down to Victoria yesterday from Nanaimo, after crossing the water on the big boat. In our element, it would seem. He’s happy to see his old buddies Jim Christy and Robert Priest and Trevor Carolan at the reception for the Pacific Festival of the Book. We had a hell of a time finding the church hall where it was being held, my bag of books and computer weighing me down. I met Richard Olafsun of Ekstasis Editons, my new publisher, who explained that he “likes to embrace chaos.” Should I be worried? In any case, he’s a friendly fellow; I’m encouraged that we’ll be able to work together on Window Seat.

Sunday, May 10

We were planning to leave after our readings at the Mothers Day gathering today, went over to Centennial Square after a reunion and brunch with my old girlfriends Solly and Jenn to find the usual confusion. No one seemed to know when, or even if, Pete and I were slated to read. It was cold, windy and our butts were still smarting from three hours in a church pew the previous night. We just looked at each other and Continue reading →

Literary biz, tall LA Weekly tales from the past

Journal

Man, I am being slayed by springtime allergies or else I have a flu. Oy. Ugh. Urf. Had to lie down most of the afternoon. Seems to be the season for writing conferences too. I just attended the BC Federation of Writers AGM and conference, now preparing to go to the Pacific Festival of the Book in Victoria this weekend, driving down with my buddy, poet Pete Trower on Friday. I’m going to do a couple of readings and meet my new publisher, Richard Olafson of Ekstasis Editions. I’m also looking forward to seeing some old friends. I used to hang out with Solly Reeve in the punk rock scene. She now runs her own design business, Zola. Jenn McLennan and Nathaniel Poole worked with me at the Edgewise ElectroLit Centre in the 90s. Things got hairy at the demise of the organization but Continue reading →

Our man Fitch

Journal

I was disappointed by the low islander turnout for our Purdy Trust fundraiser but received some encouraging words from my film producer friend Fitch Cady. He wrote this on the local Bowen Island forum:

“Fabulous indeed. Many missed it, due to the sunny Sunday perhaps. The gathering was in Heather & Josef’s living room which is perfect for events like this. If we are lucky enough to have more events in this venue, do not be intimidated. It is worth the cross island drive and has a big enough space to gather and perform in and Heather works very hard at bringing these things together.

Canada’s poet laureate George Bowering, and poets Pete Trower and Jamie Reid were there from the continent. These guys who are major published Canadian poets, who all know each other and Purdy for years, standing up and reading at the mike in a living room on Bowen! Like where else in Canada would we be so lucky? Maybe Berkley..

And the island’s own published poets. Heather (poetry activist – I call her) performing her rhythmic poems set to music, and Bernice Lever describing an encounter as a poetry groupie with Purdy in a sleazy downtown hotel – fantastic, believe me, and Lisa Shatsky reciting from memory, with her usual direct candor, a homage poem to Purdy, that has been accepted by The New Yorker. This was a very hip event. I was thrilled to be there.”

No time for reflection

Journal,

Man, I can’t believe how bloody hard it is, seemingly, to make a bloody blog entry. It’s been weeks! I suppose that means I have no time to reflect, just go, go, go. (I just got a new white leather chair and this is the first time I’ve had a chance to sit in it for any length of time. It’s quite modern in design and the back curves around, kind of hugs you. Me, I mean. I think I like it.)

This will be brief for I am still recovering from the Al Purdy A-Frame Trust fundraiser Josef and I hosted on Sunday. I’m not sure why exactly, or how, but preparations took over my life! It was a lot of work and I’m more than a little disappointed in the turnout. Actually the turnout wasn’t too bad—the head of the trust Jean Baird said there was an event in Toronto recently with over 100 people in attendance that didn’t raise a dime— but there were more Vancouverites here than Bowen Islanders, which I find hard not to take personally. I’ve been a resident on and off since 1993 and at times feel like an outsider even after all these years. Oh well, everyone enjoyed themselves, the weather was glorious and we managed to raise awareness and a bit of dough for a great cause. Al Purdy was one of the contemporary Canadian poets my high school English teacher gave me to read, one that I could relate to with our shared working class roots.

I attended the Verse Map of Vancouver launch last week with a friend who was actually being a pain in the butt, hurrying me along all evening and Continue reading →

The fun never stops! Poetry, his and mine.

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Listening to Miguel Migs playing Bump Selectra, a dub selectra mix on the Beat Blender play list on Soma FM, recalling the meeting Josef and I had with the RDI consultant this morning. It was a fairly productive meeting though I suffered a headache the entire time. We need to work on Junior’s non-verbal communication skills. Less talking on our part as well, so that he is forced to reference, check in with us. An over-reliance upon words keeps him in his own head in a sense. It’s so frustrating that he was misdiagnosed and not identified as ASD until age 10! He was prescribed years of speech therapy which turns out to be the last thing he needed. Vocabulary does not equal communication. We want him to look at us before talking, before launching into a topic. It is imperative for him to shift his attention to the person he is interacting with. Get in his face, literally, is what we need to do. There are techniques like pausing until he references us, feigning incompetence and doing something unexpected. All these things force him out of his static thinking mode. Our objective is to help him develop flexible thinking and dynamic communication.

The fun never stops! As we all recover from our fabulous AURAL Heather performance enthusiastically recieved at the Violet Femmes 2 compilation showcase, I now must focus as well on a grant application for the next week, for the Canada Council Spoken Word and Storytelling program. I want to write up a proposal for a Continue reading →

Heroic as a high school graduate… “Window Seat”

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Art Bergmann at our home studio on Vancouver Island

In a major funk, not sure why. Probably pre-show anxiety (AURAL Heather @ the Media Club tomorrow, April1). Maybe I just need a break from reality, been feeling restless, suffering a severe case of itchy feet. At least the sun is out today, had to use the goLite yesterday for a shot of Vit D, it was so dark. I am listening to some lovely songs my peripatetic and talented friend Emaline Delapaix sent. She’s in a Montreal suburb right now, a little lovesick I fear and cooling her jets until she moves to Toronto.

All right, well I’m not going to write a review of Art’s (Bergmann’s) show, return to the stage. I’m sure others will. I was overjoyed to see him performing again. I will talk about the influence he has had on me and Continue reading →

Bushwhacking with the Virgin Mary

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Man, am I ever a case of champagne taste on a beer budget. I adore modern design, came across an ultra cool chair, a Tom Dixon Wingback, a real Jetsons take on the traditional. I tracked down a store in Vancouver, thinking we could go take a test drive until I found out they cost 12,000. Wow! It’s hard to imagine the strata I would reside in to be spending $24,000. on a pair of arm chairs. I doubt that I could do it even if, by some miracle, I found myself in that bracket. White trash roots showing, I’d probably feel guilty, or foolish, or both.

Seems like everything is coming to a head. Roderick and I are picking up the AURAL Heather pace, rehearsing and working on new material. I’m not sure First Comes Mary will be ready for our show at the Media Club on April 1 but we are forging ahead. We are trying very hard as well to get a Continue reading →

From my window, art world cat ladies and babies on the brain

Journal,

My niece had her baby! Yesterday, March 16 at 7:25, 8 lbs, 15 ounces, Isabella Katherine Gomez was born, happy and healthy by all accounts. I’ve seen a few pictures that Auntie Katherine posted and the new addition certainly looks robust. Lisa’s due date was March 8, my birthday. It’s good though, for Isabella to have her own unique birth day and since she’s Scottish, not Irish as far as I know, did not need to be born on St. Patrick’s Day. There had been talk of inducing Lisa. I’m glad that was avoided. I firmly believe doctors should let nature take its course instead of managing a woman’s labour but don’t get me started. I had my baby at home with a mid-wife. I hate hospitals. Hospitals are for sick people. Okay, I’m going to shut up now before I get into trouble. I sent her and Papa a dozen pink roses today and I can hardly wait to meet Isabella. I am her great aunt so does that make her my great-niece?

Time alone! It’s been a busy spring break, albeit a snowy one. We’ve been entertaining three of Lucas’s buddies. Josef took them go-karting today so I enjoyed an entire afternoon to myself. Heavenly, though I was a little tired, headachy, got to sleep late last night again. Still, I was able to make some progress on the novel. The more I edit, the clearer it becomes, the parts that need to be cut. I am looking forward to my upcoming retreat so I can bite off a big chunk of this work.

For as long as we’ve lived here I have been taking photographs out my window, the window in my office, which also serves as my lair. If it weren’t above the racket downstairs and the house’s inhabitants—both human and animal—it would be the perfect retreat. In any case, I am blessed with a lovely view of the Cowan Point valley and Burrard Inlet beyond, the mountains of Vancouver and Gulf islands figuring into it as well. By now, I have a rather substantial repository of images, which document very well, despite the limitations of a snap shot camera, the ever-changing sky. It is often picturesque, frequently beautiful and occasionally fantastic. I was talking to an artist friend the other day about commissioning a painting from her and it struck me that since she conjures up dream-like landscapes it would be entirely appropriate for her to paint something from this series of photographs.

I just spoke with my friend Kate, a very talented singer and actress who did a stellar job of backup vocals on our AURAL Heather cd, Princess Nut. She had a baby less than a year ago, a boy, and we were plotting about how to get together soon for a visit. Then we got onto how lovely it is to be a mother, what a privilege it is to raise a child. It’s so hard, in a good way. I think it’s made me a better person, forced me to learn to balance my passions which makes everything more complicated, but ultimately more rewarding as well. Kate said she has a new perspective on chaos and wanted to see more films with the house a mess and the baby crying. Real reality. Real life. Letting go, I think, of the illusion of control, letting go of that illusion helps. The big ego is also let go in the process. Liberating, really. Interesting. I had just been discussing the subject the other day, with my afore-mentioned artist friend. She is about the same age as Kate, recently single after having been unceremoniously and shockingly dumped by a cad of a boyfriend. We had discussed parenthood and I maintained that at the right time in one’s’ life, it is very fulfilling. It gives one perspective. I have learned what really matters in life. Friends and family-blood and extended. People. I feel sorry for some of my fellow artists without children. Often they are completely caught up in the *business* of art making and have no other outlet for their energy. They can become frustrated, competitive, even downright nasty and bitter at times. They never grow up in a sense, or they wind up rather like the cat ladies of the art world/literary scene.