Photo Story

Just a few of the pics I took while watching tv broadcastings of the Women’s free skate on Feb. 26/2010 Find the full selection on Flickr.

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Joannie Rochette, Bronze Medalist, Vancouver 2010 Women’s Figure Skating


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Kim Yu-Na, Gold Medalist, Vancouver 2010 Women’s Figure Skating


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Mao Asada, Silver Medalist, Vancouver 2010 Women’s Figure Skating


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16 year-old Mirai Nagasu, 4th at Vancouver 2010 Women’s Figure Skating with a promising future ahead.


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On Cultured People

Bored Kitty

« Un être cultivé, c’est quelqu’un qui sait vous ennuyer
à la perfection sur les sujets les plus passionnants. »
~ Georges Elgozy, Economiste français (1909-1989)

“A cultured person is someone who can bore you
to death while talking about the most fascinating topics.”
~ Georges Elgozy, French economist (1909-1989)

Not necessarily true of course, but it does bring to mind one or two people I’ve known in my life…

Pic by: pmarkham, Flickr

Painting Noises

Vicky Tansey, a fascinating woman probably in her sixties and in much better shape than I am, is considered to be one of Canada’s leading pioneers in the art of improvisation as a dancer, singer and visual artist, and is also an accredited Tai Chi teacher and Buddhist practitioner, according to her bio on the Visual Arts Centre site. I discovered her great enthusiasm and intensely physical approach to painting and drawing today during the first in a series of eight classes titled Painting as Expression, which is geared toward “beginners, and those who want to begin again.”

To start, she had us twelve students—all women, save one brave man—sit in a circle to introduce ourselves and describe what had led us to choose this particular course out of the VAC’s vast curriculum. Next thing we knew, we were making marks on paper with our eyes closed while engaged in a series of contortions; moving our bodies around our limply held “broken” wrists; drawing, arm extended, from as far from our easels as possible while standing on tippy-toes; with charcoal sticks held on our chest—like knives in a stabbing motion—following movements she performed for us with complete abandon, then switching hands and doing it all over again. Vicky was clearly right in her element. The rest of us were predictably inhibited and feeling foolish at first, but these exercises got her point across: if you want to be expressive in your art, it’s got to come from your whole being and not just from an ideal in your head and a carefully held paintbrush positioned at a perfect angle. As it happens, just the type of exercise I had signed up for.

First painting exercise: cut out four pieces of “found” cardboard, cover with gesso, then make marks with charcoal on each “canvas”—again with eyes closed and using the techniques we’d just explored—all based on vocal noises she made—much to our great amusement. Then, using only gesso and a paintbrush, she left us to our own devices to paint over the drawing in order to create new images from the initial markings. Making pretty and colourful images was discouraged—the point was to explore gesture and learn to follow our instincts. Each student managed to end up with very personal interpretations and image styles, almost surprising given the limited resources we were allowed. Just in case you’re curious, here’s what I came up with:

Cartoon Face
“Cartoon Faces”

Clouds
“Clouds”

Yellow Submarine
“Yellow Submarine”

The Bull
“The Bull”

The names just describe the images that came to mind as I was working on them.

Waitressing Not Required

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I’ve been on edge these past couple of weeks after talking to my insurance agent who said he had recommended me for extended coverage but that the matter was out of his hands and was being considered by a special team at the moment. Those at the hospital who are quite fluent in such matters predicted I would probably have to do an psych evaluation with a specialist chosen by the insurance folks. I was nervous about that. Ok, let’s admit it, I was terrified! It’s always the luck of the draw with shrinks, and while some are very decent and understanding (as is my case presently), others are unpleasant old farts who enjoy making their patients feel as small and as ignorant as possible.

Then I got a letter in the mail today. I opened it on the front porch as I tend to do when scary snail mail is sent my way, and lo and behold, found out they had agreed to continue coverage. This is a huge relief because had they NOT accepted to keep covering me, I would have found myself penniless by the end of the month. Which is nothing compared to the fact that I’m so scattered these days that I wouldn’t have had the good sense to look for something much above waitress-level. Not that there’s anything wrong with waitressing of course, just… it’s not really for me what with having held an executive position, and the fact that I am the world’s worst waitress ever (I know, I tried).

So Yay! They’ve written in a bunch of stipulations of course, but one thing that caught my attention was that should the need arise I could be eligible to receive payments until July 10th 2034.

!!!

That’s 25 years! Leading right up to the eve of my 65th birthday! Boggles the mind. I can’t even try to think that far ahead, makes me both dizzy and nauseous and we don’t want that. But I guess… I prayed for a safety blanket, and I got a supersize one, so thank you Mr. God, thank you in a BIG way.

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Clumsy Waitress pic by Corbis
Waitresses Available Sometimes pic by Candlemaker, Flickr

On Pursuing a Journey

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Faire demi-tour, c’est une mauvaise manière de poursuivre un voyage.
~ Per Olof Sundman, Académicien et romancier suédois

Retracing one’s steps is a poor way of pursuing a journey.
~ Per Olof Sundman, Swedish academic and writer

I should know a thing or two about that…

Pic: “The Road Home to Reykjavik” by Stuck in Customs, Fickr

Mimi & the Daisies, Fritz Going Crazy

Mimi & the Daisies

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You could say that handling plants is not my forte. I seem to have a talent for killing them in record time. This doesn’t stop me from buying potted flowers around this time of year and doing my best to keep them alive as long as they accept to live with me. The nice old lady at the market told me these just need about four hours of sun and some watering every day. I think I should be able to manage that. Mimi was quite taken with the new arrival. So much so that I was considering making her responsible for the flowers. That was until she started chewing at the new blooms… Oh well, guess I’ll have to do that all by myself too then.

Right after Mimi had her moment with the flowers, Fritz tried to kill me. I was picking him up at the vet where I’d left him this morning for some tests. Based on the message they left me late in the afternoon, they seemed anxious for me to take him back. He was lying inside the tiny litterbox at the back of the cage, growling and totally freaked out when I got there. The technician seemed afraid to handle him—apparently he’d been “difficult” all day—so I offered to do it myself. Good thing I had the presence of mind to put on protective gloves, because when I reached in, Fritz reacted as if I was his arch-enemy closing in for the kill. As he was fighting off what could have been my bloody stump by then, he managed to poop himself too, poor dear. The technician cleaned him up, seeming grateful that I was dealing with the savage beast. Then we put the cat in the bag and that was that. So now it’s really really really official: that cat is seriously mental. Apparently I shouldn’t blame myself and it’s not my fault. That’s good to know.