The fun never stops! Poetry, his and mine.

Journal, poems, , , , ,

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”

Journal, poems, , ,

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

Journal, poems, , ,

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.

When apps go sideways, haiku, hillbilly noble woman

Journal, poems, ,

Why, why, why? Why do applications go sideways, stop behaving normally? I need to make changes, update my web site, which is why I bought Adobe Contribute, and can’t because, the Edit Page field is gone and I can’t move the windows around. Arrgghh! And why do I have to spend so much time dicking around with this stuff? I just want to get in and drive. I bought it as a download and have no clue as to how to find the serial number or how to re-install, get to spend the weekend trouble shooting.I told my web designer John Dowler I’m amazed he has any hair left. I want to tear mine out!

I’m trying to write, despite a million distractions. So what else is new? I’m planning a retreat next month. My friend Pete has offered me the use of his place in Gibsons before he moves out so I think I will go over there and work on the novel, get it ready for the Mother Tongue BC novel deadline end of May. Just wrote a haiku for BARE, the art book with Tina though I’m not certain about that title. Most of the trees are bare though so perhaps it is apt .

lofty midrib splayed
dual cedar blades soaring
clear of high riggers

I’m beginning to wonder if there is something going on hormonally that is making me more sensitive to smell. I swear there must be a dead mouse rotting in the utility room. I keep smelling gas and all kinds of pleasant and unpleasant aromas around the house. I have always been acutely sensitive to smell though, my mother said I used to Continue reading →

A labyrinth of sword ferns and bad dreams

Journal, poems

On the road, or on the water more accurately, all day, on the fancy new ferry, the Coastal Renaissance, right now to Nanaimo to pick up Roderick and the painting I commissioned from him, for the blank wall in my office. In any case, I managed to make it to Crofton, to the ferry landing without getting lost. There are no signs at all and I went every which way except the right way last time. I was able to cruise all the way down to the end of the dock so Roddy didn’t have to carry the painting, his guitar and bags so far.

BFF Cathy has hit the west coast and I hope to meet up with her later at the Boathouse in Horseshoe Bay. She always blows in and out of town, and my life, in a matter of days, frantically busy during the short time she is here so I’m lucky if I get to see her. Junior has come down with another cold! Poor kid. He’s miserable. It always hits him in the throat and he gets laryngitis. I suspect it’s partly, if not entirely, hormonal, his adam apple growing in, which doesn’t happen overnight from what I hear.

Sure sign of spring; I found a doe raiding the bird feeder. (See poem below.) The dogs were going ballistic; I let them out on the deck to bark at her, the only way to get rid of her. The deer aren’t afraid of humans, with no natural predators on the island, except perhaps the phantom cougar. Between the squirrels and the deer I am going to go broke buying birdseed.

Old folks nightmare. I dreamed I was hosting a reading at our house and the start time was delayed and before I knew it, and to my horror, all these white-haired, tired, old people kept lying down or passing out and wouldn’t get up when I tried to rouse them. They would not participate in any way, as performers or audience. I was in a panic, frustrated and upset, didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t room for them all and they were all over the house, taking up all the beds and couches. It didn’t seem that late to me!

Life is strange. I’ve been conjuring up a shot list in my head all afternoon, ideas for the video Roderick and I hope to shoot for How To Remain. I was thinking about horses of course, because Continue reading →

Snow, synchronicity and fat, flying squirrels. “Scout”

Journal, poems

It’s snowing! Again! I can’t believe it. Guess it was folly to presume that things were getting back to normal around here. Shit. I am so disgusted, keep dreaming of the desert.

Threw a pineapple at a squirrel this morning; a pineapple-shaped lantern-candle holder. I picked it up and threw it at a fat squirrel raiding the bird feeder. He flew into the bushes. Looked like he could use the exercise.

Synchronicity alert. While working on a poem yesterday, I wrote, “periwinkle as stars emerging.” Jon Stewart or someone on his show last night used the word “periwinkle.” What’s up with that? How does that happen?

There is something rather spooky about this project with Tina, the art book combining Continue reading →

Knee injury @ Slits show. “Victor.”

Journal, poems,

Ah, the familiar, the pluvial. It’s been a relief to have our typical weather return the last few days; dark, dreary, torrents of rain, which are thankfully washing away heaps of dirty snow, providing access to yard and property. A friend said yesterday that she would never complain about the rain again. I suppose we need to complain because if it’s not that, then of course there is always the government, the ferry or bad art.

I saw a physiotherapist yesterday about my right knee which I injured long ago at a Slits concert in San Francisco. I was too impatient to wait in the hideously long queue for the Ladies Room; so feeling very clever and rebellious decided to pee behind the rhododendrons in the churchyard next door. I wish I could remember the venue but I think it was the Geary St. Theatre-the People’s Temple. I suppose I could research that. Wherever it was, it was located next to a Catholic church, or cathedral would be more accurate. I have no qualms about peeing outdoors, was used to it after years of accompanying my father the bushwhacker. I will use whatever is at hand, toilet paper, napkins, tissue, newspaper, are bonus. I can recall climbing back over the tall, wrought iron fence and jumping down onto the sidewalk, which was a lot closer than it appeared in the shadows. My ankle gave way and Continue reading →

Future of reading, books, authoring. Dead boyfriends.

Journal, poems, ,

I was chatting with my buddy poet Pete Trower and we were commiserating about how hard it is to get into print these days. The subject of e-books and online publishing came up. Several authors I know have recommended Lulu com. I like the idea that a customer can choose between downloading or ordering a book, which isn’t printed until it’s purchased, going green in a big way. Then I found a message in my In box about how to sell your book online. Then, Jon Stewart had the CEO of Amazon.com on the Daily show promoting the Kindle, a device with a screen that can hold thousands of books. I have no idea whether I would want to curl up in bed with it, would have to try it out but I’m open to the idea. I’m some kind of hybrid I guess, a cross between a page baby and digerati. I am not a digital native like my 14-year old son who used to fall asleep on the keyboard as a toddler. I have been on the internet since the early 90s, published one of Canada’s first electronic literary zines, the Edgewise Cafe and have typed so much my handwriting is about as legible as a doctor’s, but neither am I texting or tweeting much. I just haven’t had time to adapt to them or explore Second Life either. Well, at least I’m finally blogging, as much as possible. In any case, I told Pete I don’t think books will disappear, that they will become rare and even more like sacred objects. They are art objects as well and people will want them around. The demise of painting was predicted when photography  came along and we all know the name of that tune.

Good news! My book of verse, “Window Seat” is finally going to be published! Richard Olafson of Ekstasis Editions has selected it for his fall list. I am so relieved, was wondering Continue reading →

Blue moon

Journal, ,

Is it a blue moon? My kid pointed out the beautiful full moon to me, much to my surprise. I’m usually the one calling him to come outside and look. We have such a brilliant night sky here on the island, with no streetlights. Perhaps my love of the natural world is rubbing off after all.

Snow again! This is the longest, coldest west coast winter that I can recall. It really is disgusting. I might as well be living in the prairies again. Other than that a good day though I am finding it difficult to focus. I’ll blame it on the bad weather. It’s distracting. I helped Lucas make chicken stir-fry for dinner and it turned out well, very tasty indeed.

I’ll be so relieved when Valentine’s Day is over! With all that there is going on in the world, the media becomes obsessed with Valentine’s Day, especially the Vancouver Sun and Province newspapers. Talk about fluff! Retailers should be paying them for promoting their flowers, lingerie and chocolates. Restaurateurs too. If two people are truly in love, every day is Valentine’s Day. How’s that for cheap sentiment?

When was the last time I was at a basketball game? I could not remember! We went to cheer on our niece Ashley. My nephew Jason and his girls—spouse Heidi, daughter Emily and stepdaughters Sanjezz and Ashley live in “Scabby Abby” as Heidi refers to Abbotsford. We all met up on the North Shore for her basketball tournament. We were not able to connect over the holidays, largely due to inclement weather. It seemed like a good opportunity to socialize so we Continue reading →