Category Archives: Journal

“POET CELEBRATES VERSE ON FILM”

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That would be me. And finally I’ve got my life back! I am once again able to tutor my son, cook dinner, clean house, catch up on paperwork, email correspondence, walk in the woods with the dogs and write. Woo hoo! I can’t believe how time consuming, all consuming this Visible Verse Festival became. Josef kept saying I was doing too much, that I needed more help, which didn’t seem too helpful. Certainly it’s true but who else could I enlist? So I bit the bullet. I can do this. Once every 10 years, it won’t kill me. The festival turned out well though. I received many kudos and people were especially impressed with the programming.

According to the Visible Verse article and Georgia Straight film critic Mark Harris I have an “unusual vocation.” That’s one way to put it, perhaps a polite way. Oh, I’m not complaining. I’m just relieved to climb back to into the scribe saddle. I’m going to finish up this blog entry and then attend to an essay Sheri-D Wilson has contracted me to write for a reference book and her Banff Arts Centre workshop. Then, I can finally get back to my novel! It will be a miracle if I complete the final draft by Jan 1 but I’m going to try.

As I sit here lamely trying to recall the events of the festival less than two weeks ago, it occurs to me that it ‘s much like the pain of childbirth, a big blur of panic and pain. Actually, I’ve never had to Continue reading →

From your incurable optimist, dare I say, utopian?

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Sadly, my dear friend Ann Haskell died Oct. 22 after a two-year battle with ovarian cancer. Assimilation of such facts of life is difficult without the means to attend the memorial. She was my ex-mother-in-law though I remained a great admirer and missed her terribly-almost as much as her youngest son Peter-after we split up. As a young woman I was in awe of her. Quietly strong, kind, intelligent, beautiful, a scholar, single mother and professor of literature at SUNY-Buffalo when we met, Ann and I thankfully reconnected and started corresponding a few years back, along with middle son Mark and her daughter—my surrogate little sister—Gretl, who reassured me, “Mom knew you were thinking of her.” Mark let all her loved ones know Ann died as she wanted, peacefully, surrounded by her beloved family and felines, no doubt with characteristic grace and dignity. Here is part of her obituary. As I told Gretl, I don’t possess words enough to describe her accomplishments.

Ann S. Haskell Obituary – 1/7/29 – 10/22/10     Ann was born in Washington, DC, in 1929 and grew up in Arlington, VA. While raising three children on her own, she was among the first women to graduate from Clemson University and was awarded a Woodrow Wilson Graduate Fellowship. She received her Doctorate with honors from the University of Pennsylvania in 1964. She went on to teach at the English Department of the State University of New York at Buffalo, specializing in Chaucer and Medieval Life and Literature and in Children’s Literature, for thirty-seven years. She was a mentor and advisor to hundreds of students whose lives and careers she enriched with her generosity and scholarship. Her many academic publications include the books, “Essays on Chaucer’s Saints” and  “A Middle English Anthology,” which has been in print since 1969. Ann wrote Op-Ed columns, personal essays, and articles on food and numerous other subjects for publications such as the Smithsonian, the Washington Post, Baltimore Sun and New York Times. She maintained a home in Provence in Southern France for forty years and she and her husband taught a program abroad on the Culture of Provence.

*sigh* Sure do hope I get to see Gretl and Mark again soon.

So, back to the grind . . . I’ve been trying to recall a time when I didn’t have a laptop handy 24 hours a day. How did I survive? Still in the throes of Visible Verse festival programming, production and promotion, literary scene pal Rob Taylor kindly blogging about it at Spread It Like a Roll of Nickels. I will be presenting a couple of videopoems–a preview–at Sean Cranbury’s Real Vancouver Writers Series, Nov. 17. I bought a Continue reading →

Politics, art, death and marriage; not necessarily in that order

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Politics. Ugh. Obama got his sorry ass kicked yesterday and Gordon Campbell just resigned this morning after trying to buy people off with a tax cut. It appears the Americans are going crazy–talk about polarization–and Gordon Campbell is an arrogant prick to think the citizenry can’t see through such transparent ploys. Good riddance but it’s not as if this means change. Some other party line asshole will replace him so already fat cat Gordo can go work at a corporation as a consultant and receive a hefty salary. Do I sound bitter? The old saw, If voting could change anything it would be against the law always jumps to mind at a time like this.

I can clean up my own back yard however though feeling trapped in the Visible Verse vault, battling dust and giant spiders to save videopoetry from obscurity while ensuring a stellar retrospective. As I’ve told several friends, the anniversary celebration and festival has pretty much taken over my life. Oh well, once every 10 years I suppose I can handle it, suck it up. The buzz is building; I’m doing an interview for Books on the Radio and Sean Cranbury soon. It’s going to be fabulous affair with artists flying in from Montreal, Edmonton, Chicago and Los Angeles. Paul Portugues, coming up from Santa Barbara, wants an interview for his book on poetry film.

Sadly, and shockingly, an esteemed member of Vancouver’s arts community, Lenore Herb died recently. We were Continue reading →

Taking time for friends and ferries

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Waiting in the ferry lineup the other day (wondering how many hours, days, of my life have been spent anticipating the Queen of Capilano), when a truckload of teenagers decked out in ghoul costumes pulled up and soon started dancing the famous zombies routine from Thriller. Must a Halloween thing I thought. It was cute and annoying, especially when their screams echoed excruciatingly off the steel girders. At home later I saw an article about “Thrill of the World, a global simultaneous dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.” Thrilling indeed and surely a sign of the times.

The year is nearly done roaring past! And the fun never stops as I recover from a nasty bout of the flu. We recently celebrated by boy’s 16th birthday! Seems like yesterday he was a babe in arms. He had five of his buddies over for homemade pizza, pop, cake, ice cream, gaming and various other sleepover shenanigans. I could not get them to go to bed, they were so excited. The next day, Josef kindly took them go-karting and bowling out in Richmond. It’s become something of a tradition. Next, we need to get him over to Lumberman’s Arch in Stanley Park. At the behest of my dear friend, photographer Lincoln Clarkes, we’ve been taking Junior’s picture at that location since the age of one. It was easier when we resided in Vancouver and the kid always has to moan about it but some day I’m sure he’ll appreciate the documentation of his growth and development.

Obama and I. We pronounce it “Oar-ee-on,” as I did on my AURAL Heather recording of Whore In The Eddy. I fretted that I had mispronounced it but an associate reassured me Continue reading →

Three Blocks West of Wonderland review

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Review of Three Blocks West of Wonderland by Poetry Is Dead Magazine Editor-In-Chief Daniel Zomparelli.

“The modern poet must deal with our technological/consumer-driven/corporate reality and attempt to find a small space of peace in this world. In Three Blocks West of Wonderland, Heather Susan Haley explores the beauty of nature through a grounded lens without ever ignoring the implications of consumerism and corporatization.

Haley’s narrative-driven lyrical poems are emotionally raw and go down like a shot of whiskey. They are filled with complicated dichotomies of nature versus humanity. The best example of this appears in “Appleton,” my favourite poem in the collection. The poem sets up a pot-smoking high, only to pull back and discuss the implications of the marijuana industry and all of the sticky legalities and the gang involvement. Haley has no trouble finding the beauty of life, just as she has no trouble pointing out the ugly truth.

Every poem in Three Blocks West of Wonderland features humour, anger, passion, love, inquisition and a kick-in-the-pants tone. The only hesitation I had with the book was that the narrative line didn’t connect strongly from poem to poem. It might come from reading too many conceptual poetry books, but I like my narrative poetry collections to keep the story going throughout. As a result, this book is best read at a casual pace or, more specifically, this whiskey-slinging, pickle juice-in-the-potato salad, roadkill, I-5 book of poetry is best read with a cool mug of lager. It’ll put some hair on those balls … or grow you a set, for that matter.” Hmm, I will have to take that as a compliment, for it must be the opposite of emasculate. That’s me, the elevate-or, the ball builder, the booster. “Exuberance is beauty,” after all, according to William Blake.

See The Voice: VISIBLE VERSE 10th Anniversary Celebration & Festival

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You heard it here first folks! This is what I’ve been slaving over, arts administrator hat squarely on, for the past week. Tons more work but I’m over the hump. In addition to these screenings, there will be an Opening Reception Friday night, a panel Saturday afternoon with Canadian videopoem pioneer Tom Konyves, poet, publisher, videographer and past curator of the Vancouver Videopoem Festival Warren Dean Fulton and from Chicago, Kurt Heintz, writer, new media artist and director of e-poets.net. A moderator and another panelist are in the works. Then an after party Saturday night, probably at the hotel across the street.
See The Voice: VISIBLE VERSE 10th Anniversary Celebration & Festival

FRIDAY, Nov. 19, 2010

Opening Reception

Vancouver Videopoem Festival Retrospective 1999-2002

This screening will feature works by Zaffi Gousopolous, Jill Battson, Verbomotorhead, George Aguilar, Michael Turner, Adeena Karasick, Sheri-D Wilson, Tom Konyves, Patricia Smith, Mike Hoolboom, Kirk Miles, Ian Ferrier, Doug Knott, Bud Osborne, David Batemen, Seth Adrian Smith and Alice Tepexquintle.

INTERMISSION

Poetry Performance by Ellyn Maybe from Los Angeles

Screening of Current Works:

Intersecting Circles Moe Clark                                            Calgary, AB

Circles Terry Westby-Nunn                      Cape Town, South Africa

Ne Pas Oublier-Don’t Forget Digital Outsiders                                  Lyon, France

Deersigns Taien Ng-Chan                                         Montreal, QC

There Were Two Girls Who Looked A Lot The Same Ellyn Maybe                        Los Angeles, CA

Cul de Sac Benedict Newbery                       London, UK

There Was A Young Man Kath Maclean                                              Edmonton, AB

Stretch Arturo Cubacub/Sarah Weis                                       Chicago, IL

River of Rain Elizabeth Zetlin/Marlene Creates                      Markdale, ON

Drivng Through The City Taien Ng-Chan                                                             Montreal, QC

Bushwhack Tina Schliessler/Heather Haley/Chris Coon                         Vancouver, BC

Retro disk chunter Stuart Pound                      London UK

The Crying of the Forest Stuart Pound                                                               London, UK

That Night I Dreamed We Were Rain Joe Boyce Burgess                   Vancouver, BC

Apocrypha Gerard Wozek/Russell/Kurland                              Chicago, IL

SATURDAY, Nov. 20, 2010

PANEL @ 4 PM

Seeing The Voice: The Evolution of Videopoetry from Cocteau to YouTube

featuring

Canadian videopoem pioneer Tom Konyves
Poet, publisher, videographer and past director of the Vancouver Videopoem Festival Warren Dean Fulton
Chicago’s Kurt Heintz, writer, new media artist and director of e-poets.net.

A hybrid of verse and video, a wedding of word and image, panelists will address the state of the union while discussing the past, present and future of the once obscure genre of videopoetry.

See The Voice: VISIBLE VERSE Retrospective 2004-2009

This screening will feature works by Leanne Averbach, Fiona Lam, Heather Hermant, George Bowering, Hari Alluri, Hilary Peach, Kedrick James, Penn Kemp, Amber Dawn, Katrin Bowen, Janet Rogers.

INTERMISSION

Poetry Performance by Vancouver’s Tanya Evanson

Screening of Current Works:

A Big Ball of Foil in a Small NY Apartment Matthew Yeager/Sean Logan         Brooklyn, NY

in earth dreams Daniela Elza/Dethe Elza                            Vancouver, BC

The Electrician Terry Westby-Nunn/Tania Van Schalkwyk          Cape Town, South Africa

Fiapo-Excuse Alexandre Braga                                                  Lisbon, Portugual

Helen Susan Cormer                                                     Vancouver, BC

Little Plank Walk Carolyn Doucette/Alice Hamlton              Chemainus, BC

Rorschach Susan Cormier                                     Vancouver, BC

How To Remain AURAL Heather-Roderick Shoolbraid/Heather Haley           Vancouver, BC

Flightpath Steven McCabe                                                Toronto, ON

Being An Artist Ellyn Maybe                        Los Angeles, CA

Walking In Plastic Kai Loggsott                                                     Cape Town, South Africa

Spring Lines Cento Marilyn Zornado                                                      Portland, OR

Monochromatic Melody Giuseppe Ferreri                           Pianoro, Italy

All This Day Is Good For Tom Konyves                                                       Surrey, BC

Racing & romping

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Lately, all I’m doing! Currently, I’m racing to meet the Visible Verse festival deadline, lots more programming to wrap up in the next two days.

On Thursday I’m heading to Victoria to participate in ROMP Independent Dance Festival where I will be reading Whore In The Eddy as a dancer improvises “to the sound, syllables, and multiple meanings. Each dancer is only given the first and last line of the written work before stepping onto the stage – to create an electric collaborative laboratory between improvised dance and the spoken word.” I’m excited!

Working toward deliverance

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My long dead parents’ anniversary. Sad, yes, but sadder while they were alive. I can’t remember a time when they weren’t miserable together.

Another sad anniversary; it’s been two years since my dear friend Peter Haskell was killed in Los Angeles. I’ve written fairly extensively about the tragedy in this blog, miss him terribly and wish I could be with his family right now.

Oh man, I’ve planted the seeds and watch out, here comes fruition! Work. I’m working on two videopoems with Derek von Essen, curating VV 2010, revising my novel, preparing to read at Word on the Street Festival while manning the domestic front of course. Never a dull moment. At least I’m not sitting on a couch getting fat whilst waiting for something to happen, like my poor, dear mother.

I swear I’m dyslexic! I was trying to send a fax this morning, which wouldn’t go through but insisted to my partner that I was dialing the numbers correctly, embarrassed when I double-checked to find I had actually inverted two digits. Yikes!

My curator hat is on top this week as I agonize over decisions and program Visible Verse. We’re celebrating 10 years this year, which happens to mean twice the work. But, all is well. The deer are in the salal, eating Continue reading →

Sage sisters, memories (of Sage Hill Writing Experience)

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Before they’re gone forever, and though I’m barely scratching the surface, here are a few other robust memories from my ten-day tenure at Sage Hill Writing Experience.

July 19, 2010

I can’t believe I’m here! I couldn’t sleep the last few nights, in anticipation but I made it after an uneventful flight, the best kind. I’ve been exploring, getting my bearings, settling in.

“Be fearless, be in the moment, remember why you’re there, be open to the path ahead. Open yourself up like the big Saskatchewan sky then strike like lightning.” My pal Sean Cranbury of Books On The Radio‘s words on getting the most out of this retreat, good advice I shall endeavor to use.

July 21, 2010

I met my instructor, award winning author Terry Jordan. Nice guy, adorable 9-year old daughter C in tow. What is she going to do? I’d be bored here if I was a kid. Terry’s a musician. Damn! I would have brought my bundle of busking songs with me if I’d known. I should always assume there will be hootenannies and opportunities to sing at these things. I’ve been reading Terry’s novel, Beneath That Starry Place, mightily impressed with his well-drawn characters and landscapes. He possesses a powerful ability to create ambiance, often sinister. I will have to get him to sign it for me. Terry’s a playwright too. I would like to talk to him about that. I’m seriously considering writing and producing a Continue reading →

Omnivorous Creatures

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He’s back. Our resident Bowen Island bear has returned to our yard to play the Seed Game. Everybody around here is mad for sunflower seeds; squirrels, deer, dogs, bears, humans. And then there’s the vermin, the rats and mice. I don’t know how the Junkos, Towhees, Chickadees and Finches will ever get theirs.

As previously mentioned, I have a thing for birds, hence the bird feeder. It’s rather an indulgence, though apparently said hobby helps songbirds to survive and it gives me immense pleasure. The deer are the worst. My Staffie SamIAm and I spent 20 minutes chasing off one very persistent doe this morning. She hides behind the trampoline between raids and when she emerges, sets the dogs off barking maniacally until I am forced to run downstairs to shush them. Well, I always say my life is a zoo. Unfortunately for the bear, he is becoming habituated to humans. There is no wilderness on this island; he has nowhere to roam without encountering people and their garbage. And bird feeders. So, I won’t put out any more bird seed until he’s been trapped and removed by the Conservation Officer. At least I hope that’s his fate, and that he doesn’t get shot.

Sex At Dawn by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jethá. Just read it. I’ve long maintained that monogamy isn’t Continue reading →