Beginning July 9, a collection of my paintings, Real Straight Talk About Souls, will be on display at the Woodcroft branch of Edmonton Public Library. The exhibit is part of a larger, ongoing body of work in which the titles of the paintings are borrowed from beat poet Jack Kerouac’s writings — mostly from Dharma […]
random thoughts
hallelujah moments
1. the first time i rode a two-wheeler, dad’s steadying hand at the ready but not necessary. hallelujah! 2. the time mom suggested i use a bigger bat because i was older now, and i resisted, but she insisted, so to please her i tried joey’s louisville slugger and swung hard and i hit a […]
when the shackles come off
my therapist says it’s all about sex i say no: what about god, and honeybees, and sentences complex? my therapist says which parent made you sad i say no: this is not about mom or dad it’s about hummingbirds and tap lessons and being pushed off the dock and that time i stole nickels from […]
Top 30 things I love about Edmonton
See, here’s the thing. I do not like winter. It does not agree with me. It depresses me, it makes me cold and cranky and ornery and sad. So why do I reside in a city that is occupied by winter for a minimum of five months each year? And not just mild winter; HARSH […]
torontosaurus wrecks
News item, February 2011: Toronto the Good ditches longtime nicknames T.O., T.Dot and Hogtown; dubs itself ‘El Toro.’ Dear Toronto, Please refer to Seinfeld episode #175: You cannot give yourself a nickname. It must be bestowed upon you by others. As George Costanza discovered, when you try to get people to call you ‘T-Bone’ you […]
(w)rite by the river
wimmin’s words from the SAGA sessions at wynne’s august 2006, with gratitude from this week i take rivers, mountains, loaded guns, lampshades and one dim bulb frou-frou little foreigners and wide-eyed jewish sisters seeking shelter hope and little green apples joy harjo and joan baez three matches a wedding dress from a junk store a […]
memory bank
overdrawn i cannot remember any of my mother’s native tongue my father’s favourite tie or my sister’s reasons for hoarding i cannot remember what i had for breakfast or anything you may have said the morning after we got married i cannot remember when i stopped playing the piano or when i started letting myself […]
why don’t dreams speak english
why don’t dreams speak english why do i crave coffee and salt why can’t two or more lovers vie for my affection with flowers sonnets, chocolate pearls & boat trips down the seine why don’t we hold hands anymore why don’t we give people names to war games like we do with hurricanes: peggy sue […]