Buster can type!

Hiya, folks!
Here's a link to where Ali's portfolio is temporarily residing while she attempts to make a website:
http://alisonbeckett.viewbook.com/portfolio
Check it out, why don'tcha?

Upcoming Show

Been busy lately working on this...



- Andrew

I'm in!

I found out on my birthday that I have been accepted to the Viewpoint! Yay! Thanks everybody for your support and kind words. I know I was pretty stressed out (read: beeotchy) for the last few weeks leading up to the deadline. Fun Ali is back!!

I did it!

Today I submitted my portfolio to the Viewpoint Gallery on Barrington Street. It is an artist run co-op for photographers with a beautiful gallery space right downtown! I'll let you know how it turns out as soon as I hear anything. Wish me luck!! Here are a couple of samples of what they will see:


These images are from my trip to Saskatchewan in 2006. The red building is an old grain elevator in Hepburn where my Mom grew up. The elevator is now called The Museum of Wheat.


These two photos are from Higgins Beach in Maine. Hannah didn't know I was taking this picture but she made an excellent model.

Ali xoxo

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Two days ago, that is.

- Andrew

Feeding the Interbeast

Hi, blog. Sorry I've been neglecting you. I have been legitimately busy, though, with real life stuff. Not that real life is more important than the documenting thereof. I would never suggest that. But you know what I mean, blog. Right? Geez, don't be so sensitive.

First of all, here's a photo from the previously mentioned The Lodge show, which proves that I was actually there as a participant. On the video all you can see of me is my right hand, but I'm the one going DUNNNNN-DUNN-DUNN DUGGA-DUNNNN DUGGA-DUGGA-DUNN.


The Lodge is currently recording. Drums are all done. It's going to sound pretty great.

Some other photo news is that Alison (with some help from me and our friend Chris) put together a portfolio of her photography this weekend, in order to apply for membership at a cooperative photo gallery in town. It looks really, REALLY good, and I can't see any reason why they wouldn't invite her right in and ask her to please put together a solo show. It's quite exciting to see so many great photos she's taken all together in one spot, and very nicely displayed.

Other, less high quality photo news is that I finally got those pinhole photos we took weeks ago scanned and fixed them up a little bit. Most of the stuff was unfortunately either completely overexposed or not exposed at all. I'm thinking some people's film was not turning properly on the spool when wound. But a few of my shots turned out OK, especially the ones I took at Johanna's choir's performance in a church. Here are the best:




We went to see Bob Dylan on Wednesday with Johanna, and also Krista. I have to say it kind of stunk. To be fair, his singing was better and less predictable than the one other time I saw him (i.e. he didn't sing every song using the exact same two-note interval relentlessly). But the band backing him up was incredibly bland: buncha session guys doing their best impression of the Blues Brothers, circa Jim Belushi. And Bob himself was playing this cheesy Casio organ thing that I believe he stole from a roller rink. It felt like we were on some kind of seniors' cruise most of the time. Apparently lots of people loved it, though, because we found ourselves forced into a standing ovation at the end.

Finally, I'm happy to report that I'm over the withdrawal from caffeine and feeling pretty fine, thank you very much. It took about a week. My energy level seems to be more consistent over the course of an average day now, less manic. And getting out of bed is easier when the alarm goes off. Today I pitched the first two games of the softball season, and I didn't fall asleep once. We still lost, though.

OK, blog? Are we pals again? You know I have other friends I have to see from time to time, but you'll always be my favouritest.

- Andrew

Shave and a Haircut...

Two bits of news. The first is that we got a new computer. It's pretty great. Runs like a dream and looks beautiful. I've never actually bought a brand new computer before. Feels weird to be on the cutting edge. It has a built in camera with which I can take hilarious pictures like this of myself. And the new Apple keyboard is a gorgeous feat of engineering and design. It's about 1/4" thick and the keys are all separated from each other and stand up about 1/8 of an inch from the metal base, so there's nowhere for corn flake crumbs and mysteriously long hairs to get lost. Keys have a satisfying and gentle "plip" to them. I am gonna miss those Helvetica Compressed Oblique characters they've had for so long, though.

The other piece of news is that I've given up coffee. It was my last addictive vice, and I finally decided it had to go. I'd rather feel the way I'm supposed to feel, instead of tricking my body into feeling the way I'd prefer it to feel at the expense of it forgetting how to feel that way by itself. However, that said, I am so far generally quite sluggish and full of aches and pains I didn't know about. It's quite amazing and frightening how different two cups a day has made me. I'm not sure how long it'll take to get through the withdrawal period, but it is slowly getting better. I find the differences between nicotine and caffeine addictions very interesting. One of the big tricks to overcoming a nicotine "habit" is to notice that the feeling of "needing" a cigarette is not actually any kind of physical pain or even really discomfort that you can locate anywhere in the body, but just an intense DESIRE. Whereas caffeine withdrawal seems to be the opposite: I have no primary desire to drink a cup of coffee, except insofar as I know it would relieve all this physical pain and exhaustion I feel.

OK, there is actually one more piece of news, which is that The Lodge played their second show on Saturday, and it was superior in every way to the first. Having made our debut, there was less pressure and fear that we might blow it, so we could spend more energy just rocking out. We all had a really great time, and so did the audience. I'm kind of itching to play again as soon as possible now. Here's a frustratingly short clip, courtesy of Cliff's mom's cell phone.



- Andrew

Old Guy Type Stuff

Hmm. I seem to be down to three posts a month. Does this mean my life is slowly winding down and I'll soon be ready for the scrap heap? I hope not.

I am definitely feeling like an old man at work lately. Pretty much everyone is a lot younger than me, and they're all constantly yammering about some stupid new TV show or how drunk they got at the Liquordome or how many facebooks they have on their cell phone or something. I try to just ignore them and do my work instead of pointing out the errors of their naïve and shallow motives, but sometimes it's hard. Especially if I haven't had a nap recently.

Luckily, I've got the old Rock 'n Roll to keep me somewhat youthful. (Does 'n,' meaning 'and,' take one apostrophe or two? Alison and I were arguing about this the other day. There are letters dropped on both sides of the 'n,' but if you use two apostrophes it ends up looking like quotation marks. Except that the first one would be upside down. But nobody knows that these days. They'd probably just think you're trying to be ironic. And anyway, look at "won't". Not only are there extra letters dropped that are not indicated by apostrophes, but there's an 'o' that's appeared out of nowhere! What's up with that? I'm sticking with my one apostrophe before. I have seen it, rarely, with just one AFTER the 'n', but, to me, that would be pronounced "nuh," rather than "uhn". Yeah, that one's just totally wrong.) The Lodge has a second show coming up this Saturday, and we haven't had a rehearsal since the last one, so there'll definitely be some practising going on this week. We don't really have anything recorded, except rehearsals using one microphone, but as there has been so much demand from the virtual fanbase to hear something, anything — well, here's a song. It's from our last rehearsal before the first show. The ending is messed up, but you get the gist of it. Hope I don't get in trouble for this.

Last Sunday was International Pinhole Camera Day. Don't know if anyone was aware of that. Alison and Meg and our friend Chris and I all made scrappy little cameras out of Altoid mint tins. There was a bit of a long process to it, but it was fun. Then I went to see Johanna's choir perform in a church while the rest of them wandered around taking pictures. I got some shots of the choir and audience by setting the tin on a ledge and leaving it for three to four minutes. Indoor lighting = super long exposures. I wish I had some of the results to show you, but unfortunately we haven't been able to scan the negatives yet. The photo place was unable to make prints because the images take up too much length on the film, and the scanning has been problematic for the same reason. But I can see that there's definitely some good stuff on there. Verrrry panoramic and spooky looking. Here's some photos taken by other Canadian pinhole enthusiasts, to tide you over till I can get this sorted out. I kind of think the B&W stuff looks best.

Ali and I had a brainstorming session with our friend Matt last night, regarding this really great comic book idea we have. The three of us will all be working on it together. I don't really want to give away any details yet, but we managed to get quite a lot of the story hashed out. It was a lot of fun and I think the finished product will be quite impressive. Assuming I live that long.

We watched a movie the other night about a once famous novelist approaching death; maybe that's part of why I'm into this old man persona right now. It was called Starting Out in the Evening and was very very good. The old guy, Frank Langella, was especially watchable.

Now we're into the Cosmos box set. I can't believe it's been thirty years since that show aired. Man, was it ever great. I haven't seen it since then, and I'd forgotten how inspirational it was to me at the time. I remember now that my friends Blaine and Darren and I in grade six would come to school the day after an episode had been on and pretty much talk about it all day. I also remember giving an in-class presentation whose theme was "You're Crazy If You Think There's Not Other Life Somewhere Out There in the Universe," which seems to be one of the two major themes of the show. The other one is "You're Crazy If You Think You Need Religion or Superstition or Really Anything Beyond Science to Be Totally Awestruck by How Incredibly, Mind-Blowingly Vast and Complex and Beautiful Life and the Universe Are — I Mean, Just Look at Carl Sagan's Eyes Popping Out of His Turtlenecked Head As He Gets All Excited and Quasimystical Telling Us About This Wonderful Stuff. He Is INTO It, Man." I hope he's still admiring it all in some dimension out there.

- Andrew

Peaks and Troughs

The show last week went really well. Really well. We were all kind of nervous and somewhat stiff, but hardly any actual mistakes were made and lots of people seemed to really enjoy it. The photos are less than spectacular, but at least they're proof that it actually happened.



Here's a poster I've made for our next show. See if you can figure out the meaning behind the somewhat abstract design.


I think I kind of crashed after the weekend of rock last week. I've been getting up late a lot this week, and generally being sort of lazy and eating food that's not very good for me. As a result I've been somewhat cranky and non-accepting of my work situation, which of course only makes me crankier. Good thing Alison is very understanding and patient. But now a few good nights' sleep, a rash of beautiful spring weather, and an intense yoga class seem to have gotten me back on course.

Yesterday was especially gorgeous. Literally everyone and his dog was walking up and down the streets with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. Many were in premature but forgivable shorts (which I thought looked kind of ridiculous on the dogs but wasn't about to tell people how to dress their pets). We got all inspired and cleaned the garbage out of the sun room. Then I washed and tuned up my bike in the back yard while Alison raked and weeded around me. Runs like a dream now!

Today there was a softball practice, as predicted. Tim couldn't make it, and in fact hardly anyone from BPY showed up, but there were plenty of guys from the Propeller team there and we got some good batting and fielding in. It was not exactly warm, so I can't blame people for not wanting to come out. But judging from the four of us who made it, I'd say we're looking pretty good.

- Andrew

Buzz 2

Well, it looks like we'll be going to the Montreal show, since the Toronto one was sold out two seconds after the tickets went on sale. Of course, there were many people online who had "accidentally" bought too many tickets and were willing to offload them for the low price of four hundred dollars. Friggin' Toronto!

- Andrew

Buzz

Big show tonight. The Lodge will debut at Gus' Pub. I played there last night with Al Tuck. It was fun. They have a new stage that's higher up, so you can see it from more of the bar, and it has a background of seventies wallpaper that looks like an autumnal forest scene. I can't wait to get up there again and blow some minds with this heavy riffage.

I've been getting an average of five hours' sleep a night for about a week and it is taking a serious toll on me. Yesterday my head felt crazy all day and I was acting like a bit of a weirdo at work. It was such a relief to get to bed last night at around 3:30. I'll probably go back to sleep this morning pretty soon, but right now I'm waiting for Radiohead tickets to go on sale, in twenty-two minutes. They're playing in August in Montreal and Toronto, and we need to buy tickets to both shows as it's undetermined so far which one we'll be going to. But we're definitely going to see them, one way or another, and make a week-long vacation out of it with some friends. Pretty exciting.

Work is somewhat hellish, but art and life at the homestead more than make up for it. Plus, spring has poked its head out of the clouds and seems to like what it sees. I've been riding my bike to work and taking long walks at lunch. Next weekend will be the first time out throwing a baseball around. Tim, the founder of our softball team, has moved back to town, so I'm quite looking forward to the season. Alison's full of cool ideas for new photo serieses, and I've got some songs trying to burst out of me. All in all, life is good.

Twelve minutes left now. Gotta go warm up my mouse-clicking finger. Talk again soon.

- Andrew

The Boring and the Weird

Andrew: I haven't posted on the old blog for some time now, and I feel like I need to update folks about what we've been up to lately, but I can't really think of anything interesting. Seems like we haven't been doing much of ANYTHING.

Alison: You could tell them we've been watching the entire series of Twin Peaks.

Andrew: Yeah, that's true. It was pretty exciting to find all thirty hour-long episodes on DVD, and then find out you get it for a whole month when you rent it...

Alison: Would you tell them how we felt compelled to go out and buy a dozen doughnuts after watching Agent Cooper scarf them down for a few episodes, and then spent all of Good Friday in front of the TV, eating doughnuts and drinking coffee?

Andrew: Hmm. I don't think I'd want to admit to that.

Alison: Yeah, I guess it's not really a good example of something interesting you could write about.

Andrew: Plus the episodes are getting so boring now! I can't believe they reveal who Laura's killer is only halfway through the series. The remaining subplots are pretty lame, although David Duchovny as a transvestite is quite funny. Still, I don't know if I can make it through another ten hours.

Ali: Yeah... I know! You could talk about your upcoming show.

And: That is kind of exciting, but there's not much to say about it. "The band finally has a name. The Lodge. Our first show's April 10th."

Ali: True. And it's not exactly happening now, either.

And: What about the Garageband experiments I've been doing?

Ali: What about them?

And: Well, I never bothered checking out that piece of recording software before, because I always considered it kind of a toy, but then I finally thought, "What's wrong with checking out a toy? I like having fun with music," and now I'm putting together some things I might not have come up with otherwise.

Ali: Yeah that's pretty good, I guess...

And: It'd be better, though, if I actually had a finished recording I could post as evidence.

Ali: Yeah.

And: Yeah.

Ali: Maybe it's not so exciting hearing how someone else is excited about a creative endeavour. What if you talked about all the changes that are going on at your job?

And: Now even I'm getting bored!

Ali: Come on! It's pretty interesting that the whole workplace was renovated, and now you have five people and a puppy in your office, which is twice the size it used to be. Plus there's a new creative director and they're supposed to be hiring another graphic designer.

And: Yeah, I hope it ends up being our friend Chris.

Ali: Me too. That would be so great.

And: But I think I might have already talked about some of that stuff. And I can't go into too much detail about work 'cause it's the internet and you never know who's going to be reading it.

Ali: Oh what, you think one of your millions of fans might get some confidential dirt on the fascinating goings-on at your workplace?

And: Ouch!

Ali: I'm just kidding.

And: I know.

Ali: Ummm... the radio shows we've been listening to?

And: Jonathan Goldstein's Wiretap?

Ali: Right. You could talk about how funny they are and how you keep laughing uncontrollably while walking to work, listening to them on your iPod.

And: Ha ha. I sure am glad Stu told me about that show and gave me all those downloaded episodes. It's really great. But again, that's not really a very interesting story.

Ali: Yeah. Maybe if you had video footage of yourself cracking up in public and getting embarassed.

And: Yeah.

Ali: Oh! I've got it!

And: What?

Ali: I read this story in the news today, did you see it? About a guy who uses his hahahahaaaaa!

And: Ha ha. Uses his what?

Ali: He uses his penis as a paintbrush!

And: What?

Ali: [nods silently while trying to stifle hysterical laughter]

And: Wasn't that the exact name of a feminist school of art criticism that you read about in your Women's Studies class?

Ali: I know! Penis-as-paintbrush!

And: And we wanted to start a band with that name!

Ali: I forgot about that part.

And: So why does this guy paint with his penis? Does he not have any arms? Or legs?

Ali: He does. Both. But he's a performance artist.

And: Oh, well that explains it.

Ali: Yeah.

And: In that case, isn't that kind of a non-newsworthy story? Isn't that just exactly the kind of thing performance artists are always doing? I bet there's a lot more than one guy who does that.

Ali: Wait, I'm reading it here now... Oh!

And: What?

Ali: I guess he paints portraits!

And: Portraits!

Ali: Yeah.

And: Like of people in the audience?

Ali: Yeah, or you can send him your photo and for a fee he'll mail you a portrait and a video of himself painting it.

And: OK, I guess I have to admit that IS kind of interesting.

Ali: He wears a blonde wig, a silver tophat, and boots, and nothing else.

And: Huh.

Ali: And a bowtie!

And: Well, all right so that is pretty fascinating. But you think I should talk about that on the blog?

Ali: Well... I don't know...

And: Let's just see whether Deputy Andy finds out who's the father of Lucy's unborn child.

Ali: OK. Popcorn?

- Andrew

Proof

I did it! It was really fun and also really terrifying. The day was perfect for it and the slopes were not too crowded. And today I can barely walk and I have a ridiculous sunburn on my face with a toque line, but it was worth it.

Here's what it looked like:

Am I a Yuppie Yet?

I guess it's been a couple of weeks, hasn't it? Let's see... there must be SOMETHING of interest going on around here.

Well, one major theme is that Ali and I have been watching these "webinars" (yuck) on the Oprah Winfrey (!?!) website every Monday night where she has our favourite spiritual self-help non-denominational enlightened dude, Eckhart Tolle, talking about his most recent book, A New Earth — Awakening to Your Life's Purpose chapter by chapter. I know, I know, it's Oprah. Yes, she is way too powerful. Yes, she does interrupt him a lot. And, yes, she does take almost every opportunity to talk about herself. However, it's pretty cool that such an insightful and potentially very helpful guy is being given a platform to reach so many people. One of the main theses of his book is that no one's going to change the world in any meaningful way unless he radically changes his attitudes toward life and himself first, and this is a way that such a change could actually happen on a large scale. The first chapter's broadcast had technical problems and crapped out on almost everyone, it seems. But it was viewable later, and the second one went off last week without a hitch. It makes a big difference seeing and hearing him talk about his ideas instead of just reading them. Highly recommended.

We're in the middle of a big snowstorm here. That's fine with me, because a) it looks really nice in a peaceful but mysterious way, and b) I'm going skiing tomorrow! Downhill skiing! I'll be picked up at 8:30 in the morning and taken to Martock with a couple of my coworkers. It's not a big hill or anything, but I'm still a little anxious about it. I've only skied probably three times in my life, the last time being over twenty years ago. When I first mentioned the idea to Alison, I was surprised at her concern about it. "You're not a young man anymore, you know," she said. "Your bones are more brittle and would take longer to heal than they used to." I got somewhat indignant, accusing her of being both a baby and a mother hen. (That's a mixed metaphor I hope never to see in a petting zoo.) Then the next day we ran into a woman I know who's maybe ten years older than me, and she was on crutches with a giant cast on her leg. "Skiing," was the one-word cause given. Then she said, "It's taking a lot longer than I would have thought to heal. I guess that's what happens when we get older." So now I'm biting my nails as I watch the snowflakes out the window. But I'm excited too.

I promised to keep this short so I'd have time to hammer together a couple of disassembled tables before getting a haircut and watching a movie, and it's already getting out of hand. So, in brief:

Johanna taught us a version of Scrabble called "Speed Scrabble," where you don't use a board and just work on your own crossword with your own letters, trying to get as many of them in both an across and a down word as possible. It's quite addictive.

Lowlands has its first two shows coming up in April. So far no other name has achieved a better consensus.

We lost two designers at work recently and are hiring two more to replace them. Plus, we're taking over another suite on our floor and doing major renovations, so things are in an interesting state of flux.

The Whales of August, even though it stars Bette Davis and Lillian Gish as a pair of ideologically opposed sisters, was directed by the formidable Lindsay Anderson, and is set on the spectacular coast of Maine at the end of summer, is one of the most boring movies you can possibly rent. You're better off with What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?.

I have a very good idea for the content of a comic. I just have to figure out how to draw the characters. That, and how to draw in general. And then draw it.

Bowling on a Sunday afternoon with four friends is a lot of fun and not nearly as depressing as you might imagine.

This morning while listening to Joy Division, I figured out the long-sought-after secret of their incredible songwriting: have the guitarist and bassist each write a section to a song, and then have them play their compositions simultaneously, even if they are not in the same key. Add some atonal singing that refuses to validate either part, and you've got an instant classic.

Stop. Hammer time.

- Andrew

Our Old Fashioned Adventure

So, Montreal was a great time. On the train there we were bumped up to a nicer roomette, the best one you can get. It was very old and comfortable and art deco. I think the car was probably built in the forties. Apparently the Queen stayed in one of these rooms. Everything metamorphosed and unfolded in ingenious ways, like a Transformer. The couch was a bed and one wall was a bed and another wall was a table and the ceiling was another bed. There was a nice old fan in the corner. The miniature soaps fit exactly into the rectangular indents on the stainless steel sink.

We had brought about a million books and enough groceries to last us a week, thinking it would be a long, boring ride, but we spent the whole time looking out the window and it was over before we were ready. After a shower (!) and a breakfast of hummus and bananas, we pulled into the Montreal station, where we were welcomed by my old buddy, Stu. He took us back to his new condo in Petit Bourgignon. We dropped off our stuff and went out to a favourite old diner in St. Henri, The Greenspot, for a more breakfasty breakfast and to talk about what our families and old friends were up to these days.

Then there was the birthday party for my grandfather, Papa, attended by most of my family. It was his ninety-third. We decorated the "tea room" where he lives with balloons and streamers and had a real pleasant little get-together. Well, I guess most of the decorating was done by my niece, Hannah. He got some very thoughtful gifts, had some snacks and cake, and then we saw him back to his suite. Alison and I stayed at my grandmother's condo that night and stayed up late catching up with my sister, Dana.

The rest of the family went home the next day, but we stuck around all week, getting plenty of visits in with both grandparents. Granny Gwen took us out one night to a fancy French restaurant, where we had a long and many-coursed meal of the gourmet variety. We went back to her place again that night. The full lunar eclipse was spectacular from her balcony overlooking the snow-covered park. It was nice to chat with her about life and art over her famous big breakfasts.

A lot of the times with Papa were spent playing Scrabble. I ended up winning all three games we played, but the last one was very close, and would have gone to him if 'qi,' which is definitely a word, had been in his outdated Scrabble Dictionary, thereby allowing him to get rid of that lousy 'Q' at the very end of the game. We were also able to run some errands for him and help clean up a little, plus hear about various distant family members and the good olde dayes. I finally found out that Papa's mild oath, "shaw," which he's been saying all his life, is actually "pshaw," with a silent 'p'. How did I never realize that before?

The remainder of the week was either walking around freezing cold Montreal looking for old haunts and/or photo ops, or spending time with Stu and sometimes Cliff, my other old Montreal buddy. We stayed at Stu's place most of the time. He was working a lot at his new software engineering gig, but we were able to spend most evenings with him. I really haven't been in touch with him much over the past decade or so, so it was quite funny and exciting to find that we're still very similar. His bitter hatred of Stuart McLean had me smiling with recognition. Then when he related a lengthy explanation he'd recently given a woman why his feelings about musician Leslie Feist are lukewarm at best, when it was obvious that the response the poor woman had been expecting and probably deserved was more along the lines of, "Like her? I can honestly say without exaggeration that she is the most creative artist living today and I worship her every excretion," well, I just about killed myself laughing.

There was a dinner with Cliff at the Star of India, an old standby that is still exactly the same down to the exotically dressed Caucasian mannequin who watches you eat from her perch over the front door. Another night Stu took us out to a vegetarian restaurant whose delicious Bocaburger comes with an "avalanche" of salsa and which is in such a terrible location its doubtful it'll be anywhere near as successful as it should be. We also went to see the latest Michel Gondry movie, Be Kind, Rewind. Jack Black was very funny in it as the guy whose magnetized brain accidentally erases all the VHS tapes in a terrible old video store in New Jersey. Alison and I really liked it and Stu tolerated it. Finally, we went for one last breakfast at the Greenspot, meeting up with Cliff who this time brought along his wife, Vitska, and 2-year-old son, Elan. They're a really sweet family and we were glad they were headed toward the Atwater Market too when we went there afterward for some last-minute train snacks and souvenirs.

The ride out of Montreal was not as nice as the one there, but still pretty great. This time our roomette was only half the size, and the cars were all super-modern. You would think that a modern train car would be better than one built in the forties, but actually most of the design decisions they seem to have made in the interim are poor. No fan, for instance, and no sink indents into which the soaps could fit. Plus the ladder up to the upper bunk squeaks all night long. But Ali fixed that problem with a pair of well-placed socks and we enjoyed the views just as much as the first time around. Baie de Chaleur first thing in the morning was particularly spectacular. Especially as Joey, our porter, brought us fresh coffees on waking us up. Before we knew it we were home in the land of ugly architecture and scarce taxicabs and mild temperatures and lovable kittycats.

- Andrew

Hey, Everybody!

We're back. Montreal was a real good time, as were the train rides to and fro. Fro maybe a little less so than to. But we're home now and ready to jump back on that treadmill called daily life. I've got a band practice to get ready for right now, but pictures and stories will follow soon.

- Andrew

Last Post for Awhile?

Not that I have been anyway, but I might not be able to blog in awhile, as we'll be on that train to Montreal in a couple of days, and gone for over a week. We're both really looking forward to the trip. My grandfather's not feeling so great and in the hospital right now, so our visit should be a nice cheer-up for him.

Things are moving along nicely with Alison's photo-superstar plans. All of a sudden there are numerous people presenting her with business opportunities, so she's got some deciding to do. Meanwhile, her boss/guardian angel has lots of good ideas for how best to shove her into the photographic limelight. She just got back last night from a shoot in Newfoundland with him, which I guess went off without a hitch, but then they paid for it on the trip back.

The weather here was wet and slippery, so their plane was diverted to Moncton for six hours. When they arrived back the driver of the shuttlebus that now takes you to the new airport parking lot flipped out because they didn't know where their car was parked. Never mind that a ticket had been given to them indicating exactly where it was, which ticket they had dutifully handed over to the driver as instructed when they got on the shuttle. Never mind that the driver no longer remembered which, if any, of the for some reason three tickets left in his hand even though they were the last party on the shuttle, was the one they had handed him. No, it was definitely their fault that they had no idea where their vehicle was in the pitch black of the brand new, featureless parking lot, and there was nothing else he could do but flip out and tell them to get off the bus or he would call the cops. Seriously. They refused to get off, as it was pouring rain and they had almost literally tons of camera equipment with them. So he stopped the bus and called "the constable," who eventually showed up and turned out to be a nice guy, offering to help them find their car in his car. But then as they started loading some of the aforementioned equipment out of the back of the bus and into this new, nicer guy's car, they turned around to see the bus racing off, the remainder of the equipment having been unceremoniously dumped into a puddle. When the photographer called the maniac's supervisor to complain, the supervisor said he hadn't heard the other side of the story yet, so he couldn't really do anything, but feel free to fill out a comment card. I'm not sure whether "I'm suing you," technically counts as a comment...

When they finally got back to the photographer's studio late at night, his steep driveway was so covered in rain-soaked ice that it was impossible to drive up, and they had to walk all the heavy gear up said driveway. By this time there was nothing left to do but laugh at their ridiculously bad luck, so that's what they did.

I, meanwhile, continue to slave over a hot computer, making black and white photos of cars sporting cartoon explosions full of phrases that end with exclamation points look pretty, and writing really stupid jokes to direct people's distraction and avarice toward the client-chosen objects of desire. Except that lately the jokes get so manhandled and reconfigured along the way that by the time they make it to print there is nothing recognizably humourous left in them. In order to bolster my comic abilities, I'm thinking of signing up for this class I noticed at the local comedy school:

HUMO-2046 The Knock-knock Joke

Students will be subjected to many examples of this timeless classic, becoming familiar with its history from the invention of the wooden door through today's post-modern variations. Creative discussion will be encouraged, and an original KKJ will be written by the student for the final class/critique.

Class topics will include:
Early precursors — mock-Greek names and the knock joke.
Who's there, indeed?
Suspense v. irritation in the participatory nature of the classic KKJ.
Character is punchline.
Suspense v. irritation II — banana banana.
Bing-bong, you go first, and other contemporary subversions.

Additional seminars will be available for those who "don't get it", and tutors Dwayne and Tyrone have volunteered to make housecalls as required.

See you in the funny papers!

- Andrew

P.S. Happy Valentine's Day.

It's true, I have exciting news!

Hey all!

My big news is that I finally showed my boss James some of my work and he was very impressed. He strongly believes I should become a fine art photographer, and he's interested in investing in me! I'm not exactly sure what this means, but he did say he could provide start-up money for gear, printing, and other things. I think he's going to help me figure out how to become a successful working artist.

James never knew this was my dream to begin with since I never showed him any of my stuff or really talked about it either. I think we took each other by surprise! Anyway, I'm still kind of reeling from his reaction.

So now I'm working on putting together a book and also an art show — I have quite a collection of images that I need to sort through and organize! Wish me luck! Any advice would be welcome and appreciated. xo

-Ali

Some Random News

Ali and I are going to Montreal in a couple of weeks for my grandfather's 93rd birthday. We'll take the train up, stay for a week, and take it back again. We're in a compartment with beds and a bathroom, which I've never had before and am quite psyched about. Just like The Darjeeling Limited. It'll also give us a chance to catch up with my old friend and roommate, Stu, with whom I haven't been in touch for over a year.

Last week I had a performance review at my job. I guess I was dreading it a little bit, but they didn't really have anything bad to say and I got a raise.

On Saturday night we went to a Brazilian festival called Carnaval. The Zumbini Circus played, same band we danced to on New Year's Eve, and they were just as good this time. There were also a few different demonstrations of capoeira, an Afro-Brazillian martial art/dance/social game. Kind of like highly acrobatic and fluid break-dancing, but with machetes and sticks sometimes. Very cool. Alison took some pictures, but they all just look like red faceless people on fire. It was pretty dark in there.

Check out the HBO comedy series Flight of the Conchords, about a fictional two-piece band from New Zealand trying to make it in New York. It's now rentable on DVD. There are twelve episodes, but I defy you to stretch it out over more than two days of watching.

Finally, Ali's got a bit of news about her photography that's really exciting, but I think I should let her tell you about it.

- Andrew

Other Voices, Other Rooms

In the past couple of weeks I started doing some internet research on the artwork of northwest native Canadian culture. I don't really remember what started it. Oh, I guess it was a section in The Gift about the potlatch ceremony in Haida tradition and the copper engravings they would make and trade as gifts. (The book, by the way, is a fascinating piece of prescriptive sociology wherein the author compares systems of gift exchange with those of commercial exchange and then goes on to show how useful it would be, for both artists and their audiences, to think of artworks as gifts rather than commodities. Check it out if you have any interest in art or economics or anthropology.) The engravings reminded me about those interesting repeated shapes in totem poles and other artifacts of the Pacific coast, how they fit together like psychedelic poster artwork of the 1960s, and how they often depict mystical animals inside of or attached to other animals.

So that got me all excited for awhile, and then while I was looking at some mind-altering Haida comics online (who knew such a thing existed? The Japanese, apparently.), I remembered a really great Dover colouring book I had as a kid, of North American Indian art. And then I recalled also having a calendar of black and white Inuit art prints. I hadn't thought about it in a long time, and the pieces I could picture from it struck me as weird and magical.

So, soon I was at the library, borrowing a book called Dorset 75, a 1975 annual collection of graphics from Cape Dorset in what is now Nunavut, and it was just the stuff I was looking for. I didn't know it before, but the Inuit began printmaking only in the late '50s after being shown how by a guy named James Houston who was trained in the Japanese style. That partially explains the look of a lot of this stuff, but the Inuit also have this inimitably naïve style that is elegant, childlike, and otherworldly all at once. I soon fell in love with the work of Pudlo Pudlat and Peter Pitseolak. I also have to show you this piece, because it just happens to be titled "Our Igloo"!


And then I discovered that the National Gallery of Canada's website has tons of fantastic prints you can look at online, with plenty from the golden age of the 60s and 70s. I've made a little video here of my favourite stuff from the two sources. There are a couple of black and white pieces whose look I'm hoping to somehow adapt for my alleged comic-in-progress. Also see if you can pick out "Thoughts of the Walrus" by Pudlo Pudlat, "The People Within" by Jessie Oonark, "The Woman Who Lives in the Sun" by Kenojuak Ashevak, and "Joyfully I See Ten Caribou" by Pootoogook.



Last weekend Alison and I travelled to Fredericton to attend, with my family, a memorial for my aunt Chooch. I told you about her in November. We were kindly driven there and back by my dad's cousin and her family. The memorial was held in the Charlotte Street Arts Centre, a large school that has been converted into studio and gallery spaces, largely thanks to Chooch's long and relentless pushing for it. I'm not sure how many people were there, but it must have been over 500. It was quite inspiring to see the great effect she had had on the entire arts community there. Many many people had thanks to give and stories to tell, including the local MP and New Brunswick's lieutenant governor. My dad also did a great job with the closing words. Ali and I returned home determined to get our asses in gear and consciously connect with our own community, rather than just enjoying our lovable but insular igloo.

The Shape of Your Absence

Bring me the bitter and frightened tears
of those who loved you best;
replace my own, too subtle in their flavour
ever to toast you fittingly,
full as they are of opportunity
lost and memories of your dog.

Even the friends and artisans
whose works and lives you still inspire
with an honesty and love that already survive you
(and, yes, the voice I suddenly remember)
can't parallel their view with them
who now must look ahead
into a brutal world more sad and alien
than anyone's mother should contemplate
or any husband dare consider.

Let me just observe them in a spoon
if I might not taste their salt,
that sympathy may train my palate's grief
and pain expose my heart —
I will not shrink from the gift
of their pure sorrow.

- Andrew