The Evaporating City

[Maybe in 50 years they'll put my pictures up in the VAG, but in the meantime here's one for free.]


Today I bought Fred Herzog's book, "Vancouver Photographs", the publication of which Douglas & McIntyre timed to coincide with a major showing of his work by the Vancouver Art Gallery. I'll be attending the show on Sunday, and was looking for a way to get grounded in the subject matter beforehand so as to make the most of my experience. $47.70 later, and boy am I grounded.

I've been feeling very over Vancouver lately, and I have to try and find out if I'm actually over it, or just frustrated with some of its limitations, namely its lack of friendly gay men. I've felt the city change dramatically in the fifteen years I've known it, almost entirely for the worse. Then again, maybe it's me that's changed for the worse, and the city's still the same lovely place it ever was.

The book is a challenge to me, to find my place here, or else find another place where I can. I am ready to begin my life's work, and want to make sure that I do so in a city with the life I need in it. Otherwise, it'll all turn out wrong, and I specifically remember that my mother promised me a happy ending.

A Change of Heart

Earlier, I posted a piece entitled "Apparently It's Valentine's Day". I sure hope no one saw it.

To anyone who might have done, on the off chance you're still talking to me, please accept my apologies. We animals do funny things when we're in pain. We lash out often as a way of reaching out.

Writing the essay was enormously therapeutic for me, because those words had been swirling around inside my head for nearly a week when I finally let them out. Last night I had a terrible headache and the chills, so I went to bed early; the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was get up and write that, even before I'd visited the littlest room.

Now, I will not apologise for the piece, only for the misuse of my intention in placing it here on my blog. It should not have seen the light of day; I sincerely hope it didn't.

It's our wounds that make us feel alive, which may be why they are so often self-inflicted. Unfortunately, it's our wounds that also kill us, and so we must nurse them. Within this cycle, though, there's enough power to break it.

Each time we heal it is imperative that we heal better than we were before we broke, until we no longer hurt ourselves or others.

Also, I really need to lighten up.

"Blessed Art Thou" by Kate Kretz

I have a vague recollection of this story when it was first in the news (a whole month ago!), but something really big must have been going down because I let it slip past without comment. I guess I was on Angelina overload; well, thanks to Anna Nicole that's easing somewhat (what an angel!) except now I have a serious case of Anna Nicole overload. Oh well, it's always something.

Wait a minute! What were we talking about?

Oh yeah, the painting... I think I like it.


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Why Not Have A Liberal Helping?

As we all know, the fat cats are getting fatter, and now so can you progressive types. Yes, Ben and Jerry have given Stephen Colbert the Jerry Garcia Treatment. Apparently, it contains chocolate covered waffle cone pieces and caramel.

Hm.

Yep, I think I feel a podcast coming on. That is, if the stuff's even for sale up here; if not I shall have some imported next week (oh, Seumas...? hint hint). If this is what they call investigative journalism then me likey.

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