February 27, 2003
lightning strikes: random, infinite, impossible. the determined and the delicate stand side by side, their fate equally tempted. some things simply are, simply must be - and a detour is of no consequence, since it leads from the danger of the open expanses to the shelter of the very tree waving its perfect boughs at destiny.
if of thy mortal goods...February 26, 2003
my delightful friend pauline, who lives in henley near ipswich, loves flowers. so, when I wanted to show my appreciation for her unbounded hospitality, i snuck off during a visit to tesco’s, or sainsbury’s, or safeway, or wherever, and purchased a bunch of tulips – how fitting! – to grace her home. the selection was lamentable, and the bouquet i ended up buying was extremely meager and extremely makeshift, and cost more than five pounds. i was chagrined. we are spoiled in holland. for much less we can feed our souls with flowers like these:
minor works of art, creative, colourful, bound by twine and tender hands….
black, white, redeemingFebruary 23, 2003
light trickles through the window. on the table before him are piles of photographs: their life together captured in image upon image. he shuffles them, shifts them; he cannot resign himself to not remembering. he stacks the black and white, the sepia; the pinked edges dimple his determined fingers.
slipping the restraintsFebruary 21, 2003
as andy warhol once acknowledged:
we are scattered around the globe: one in southeast asia backpacking from harbour to hamlet, the oldest and i at home in wintery holland, and the youngest in canada, hugging lake ontario and taking beautiful pictures:
thank heavens for the internet and instant interaction. the world, shared, becomes intimate.
eggs & inspirationFebruary 19, 2003
last month, the yearly office breakfast: an early-morning banquet for a hundred sleepy souls. and, as welcome as the coffee was, and as delicious as the rolls, the cheeses, the bacon, the eggs and the waffles all were, it was the location..
...that captivated, satisfying souls as well as appetites.
chill factorFebruary 18, 2003
if this icy cold were just a fraction less, we could all lose a few layers of bundling. and if the wind would just lie a little low, we could all appreciate the clear skies and the crispness.
just desertsFebruary 17, 2003
after tossing and turning and dreaming of dreams, after shivering on the edge of an icy railway platform, after biting back all manner of expletives when the fast train adjusted its pace to the slow train that beat it to the junction, i was rewarded by a spectacular sunrise over the ij.
blue times twoFebruary 16, 2003
even the tackiest of tourist-trappings take on a certain dubious charm under the blue skies of a glorious amsterdam day.
welcomeFebruary 15, 2003
we are patient souls. we plod, when necessary. the construction work has produced visible, and visitable, results. the words and images have been manoeuvred into place.
my friend isabel surprised me last week with a coincidental copy of "grass roots" (the 1974 edition), the annual creative publication of loyalist college in belleville, ontario, where i studied a long, long time ago. and lo, behold: my name, on pages 11 and 17.
my belief in
i was delighted. and, funnily enough, i remembered precisely why, at those very moments, i scrambled for pen and paper.
glass, slowFebruary 14, 2003
the other-muse and i spent a chilly tuesday afternoon not long ago in two photographic musea in amsterdam: the FOAM and huis marseille, both on the keizergracht. in the latter, our breath was taken away by an exhibition of naoya hatakeyama's work: his amazing images of sewer-gutters in tokyo, his dramatic perception of a rock-blasting, but especially his "slow glass" collection - milton keynes through raindrops on a car windshield - stopped us short in admiration...
*image courtesy of www.fotonet-south.org.uk
of broken dreams..
it is remarkable how one can become possessed by an image, by a perception, by a dream..
*image courtesy of www.globaltravel.melbourne.net
upward and outwardFebruary 10, 2003
it's been winter for a long time: a bit of blue sky would be much appreciated.
an afternoon offFebruary 06, 2003
there is nothing finer, on an unexpected afternoon off, than an unexpected cup of coffee with two of the sweetest men one could hope to know...
angel in the snow
children fly. that's what they do. and this one, the youngest, has flown far, and descended into the chill, and the snow, and the warmth of her grandmother's welcome.