We are here.
was both too fast
and too slow.
Car travel still being
fast enough to leave you
a little unsettled
at the ever later
setting of the sun
but too slow
to by-pass the occasional tedium
of 4500 kilometers in a van.
We passed over
and walked by
a Sleeping Giant
clothed in Boreal trees.
Hit the Prairies flying
and stopped for Pelicans
and other birds in salty locales.
The Mountains were the stars
despite the heat and haze of smoke.
Well, stars until we found the Ocean again.
Still smells like home.
Soon it will be two years. Two years since I ended up on Monique’s blog. I can’t remember how I got there; one of those twisty internet paths I suspect. She was walking from Barcelona to Paris for the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP21), a journey that would take her 55 days. People were supporting her and I joined in and followed along until she reached Paris, and then life continued and I moved on.
Out of the blue in May I received a letter from Amsterdam. I had quite forgotten that Monique had said she would send a souvenir of her travel; she folded little boats made from paper found along the way. My letter contained a photo of the “fleet” as she calls it. You can read more about it here. It was very fortuitous timing as we are about to leave on our own lengthy journey and relocation. I folded a little canoe from the envelope as a tribute to all journeys.
A week from today we will set off on our trip to return to the West coast of Canada. All five of us and one bunny will drive 4500 km to Victoria, BC in 15 days. Flying. of course, would have been faster. But, apart from economics, driving allows for at least a little more time for the soul to adjust; the first step on a new path.
Little canoe ready to head off to the Pacific.
I had an amazing day last weekend studying colour theory with my very talented and inspirational cousin Maggie Rose.
A little Goethe as tribute :
“Colours are light’s suffering and joy. “
“You can’t, if you can’t feel it, if it never
Rises from the soul, and sways
The heart of every single hearer,
With deepest power, in simple ways.
You’ll sit forever, gluing things together,
Cooking up a stew from other’s scraps,
Blowing on a miserable fire,
Made from your heap of dying ash.
Let apes and children praise your art,
If their admiration’s to your taste,
But you’ll never speak from heart to heart,
Unless it rises up from your heart’s space.”
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
There are beginnings and endings, and there is the space between the two. Or maybe it is a process; turning the ending into a beginning. Either way, I’m finding it a bit difficult, sitting here in this gap. I expect there is a lesson in that.
I’ve been listening to this often:
I’ve set the rain
to be cold and hard
I’ve set the sun to
be bright and sharp
To wake you up
from your hollow dream
I’ll shake your bed
with a thunder strike
from my handLet’s come all steal
we will lie and cheat
and turn around
all their limit signs
and redirect this
this great old boring road
into the depths
of a lion’s mouthJust to see
if there’s something we believe.…
After a year without a decent camera, the resident photographer is back in action ! Colours of a southern Ontario winter:
Sebastien at Leslie Spit, Toronto Ontario.
Is it New Year already ?
A whole week in – I’m wearing purple and green – does that count ?
I make no special resolution.
Every night I’m full of resolutions; they lay thick on my wrists; they drip from my fingers. If I could live in that first hour after bed, what I wouldn’t accomplish!
I played with beads yesterday evening instead of finishing the painting. Feet to the fire ! I should finish the painting ! The resolutions were flying.
Have you followed a butterfly’s flight ? Perhaps my attention bears too much resemblance. Does painting fit with that ?
I landed on a new name: Curiosity Artist.
It will have to be enough.