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
Obamamania. Inauguration fever. Last day of the Bush regime! Exit interviews? As one of the fortunate survivors of race riots, the LA riots of 92, which seem like only yesterday, this day is very meaningful. Like so many other people, I never thought I’d live to see it.
Josef and I had coffee poolside with my dear friend and fellow poet, SA Griffin before we left LA. We discussed Bush’s absurd farewell speeches, the things he wants people to believe he accomplished as opposed to what really happened. Certainly he is trying to hack the media, the way his legacy is portrayed. I’m more inclined to listen to Keith Olbermann’s Eight Years In Eight Minutes. I don’t understand how Bush got away with all the despicable things he did!
January 20, 2009 THIS IS THE DAY WE BEGIN AGAIN
SA gave us several handsome posters of a poem he wrote commemorating Obama’s big day. We said we would be happy to distribute some in Canada and told him about the election night party we had on Bowen Island with its significant population of American expats. At one point, SA got up and gave a poster to a fellow who entered the lobby sporting an Obama-PROGRESS shirt. It seems the entire world is excited, hopeful at the shift in paradigm and it is my hope the world is able to stop hating America. Progress is being made, a characteristically American drive.
I was chatting with a friend this morning who has dual citizenship. Born in Montreal, adopted and raised in New York-Queens-I met Debby in Vancouver, then ran into her in Los Angeles after we had both relocated. We spent years painting the town red together and she is the inspiration for my poem, Three Blocks West Of Wonderland. I told her that I often miss my American friends and have so much fun when I’m down south. The people are generous, vigorous, expansive. After I hung up, I came across a funny article in the Vancouver Sun by Dan Gardner, called Get Over Yourself Canada, If this country were a teenage girl, she would be in for years of therapy which stated many of the things I had bitched to Debby about, including pettiness and parochialism. I am determined to buy a house in the California desert some day and winter there right about the time of year this place is at its darkest and coldest and it’s not just the climate that I am referring to. Perhaps geese aren’t such bird brains after all. Doesn’t it make sense to go where the food and good times are? Follow the sun? Screw borders. I’m a citizen of the world.
SA also has a son who is Aspergers so we share much empathy for one another. He has some interesting theories, Continue reading