neck muffler

09Dec09

i made a thingy! stiched every knot, minus the ones i missed (a few), hooked every tog, needled every noddle… all part of my plan to age 50 years overnight, or else join the growing ranks of people my age finding peace, love, happiness, time to bitch, and a guerilla revolution through l’art des crafts.

don’t know if i’m skilled enough for guerilla status yet… but i’ve casted on to the trend.


hopped outside a few times this weekend. once, to nearly cross paths with a cougar in an open field, twice to see three river otters chase one another along the sea splash at taylor beach, and third for a dusky walk along whiffin spit. mmm.

the other hours of daylight had me drawing carving inking printing and pressing over 100 thank you cards for all the donations we received for the very well attended Metchosin Kids With Cancer silent auction on friday.

linoblock prints, i missed you. Hannah Firmin, i wish my skillz were more like yours.

below are some photos of how i like to mess up my mother’s kitchen… and that dusky walk.

tchussie!


today my palms are sprinkled with a few pricks of red from this afternoon’s adventure down the steps to the woodshed, chopping some kindling for the woodstove. i traipse from room to room brewing tea and tending to my mother dearest, who has fallen ill this morning, and, predictably, the fire is out in minutes. keep it stoked, keep it stoked. you’d think that having lived in a house where the equation of chopped wood + crinkled paper + lit match = warm fire has been an everyday essential since i was a tot, i’d have the hang of it by now.

the fire’s been burning for about 2 hours, since my one brush with the outdoors today to meet my old next door neighbour for a little tea n’ chat at our favourite corner cafe, the broken paddle. pulling into the lot, a small flood of guilt washed over me as i quickly noted one lone bicycle drying under the awning above the cafe door, a soaking wet reflective vest sitting on the saddle. i had promised myself yesterday that i would bike the 25 minute ride over kangaroo road to the cafe, but my mind changes as easily as the the island weather patterns  when rain is involved. (not that i didn’t survive 7 solid days of rain cycling through germany this past july!)

expecting to see some kind of fit old fogie at the coffee counter (there are many out this way), haley and i were surprised to see another young metchosin-born-and-rosen, neighbor/school-chum, hardly-recognizable-because-you-haven’t-seen-them-forever friend of ours, mariko. “it’s beautiful out there! metchosin in the fall, i’d forgotten how beautiful it is,” she said with a grin. she was apparently not at all phased by the rain, but instead, thrilled about being home from a year woofing and cycling throughout Japan on a single geared, granny-styled frame. although details of my bike tour through Europe consisted of 20 people and a support vehicle, i don’t think it separated our bond too much.  looks like the thing we most shared in common, however, was the desire to return home to metchosin, as many of us seem to do… even if just for a minute.

here’s a pic of some autumn apples that i stole from in front of our old house on rocky pt. yesterday (which is apparently going to be up for sale sometime soon if a few hundred people want to go in on it with me!).


a big tree!

17Nov09

meares island, tofino.

home to the most spectacular ancient forest giants i’ve ever seen. look at this thing! gawsh darn, if trees could talk.

the wcwc is in the midst of one of the most important environmental campaigns in this region. their pitch is to “save old growth forests and ban raw log exports” in an attempt to get the BC Liberal government to stop logging beautiful old growth forests like this one, and make the switch sooner, rather than later, to sustainably logging second growth forests instead. because once you get rid of these puppies, its all going to be second growth anyway. this action wouldn’t be putting an end to logging and forestry jobs on the island, it would just work to preserve our productive old growth forests (73% of which have already been chopped down!) for wildlife habitats and future generations alike to enjoy… just as much as i enjoyed our hike through the torrential downpours this weekend.

more info about their current campaign here.


i am home. surprise!

sitting in my mom’s metchosin home in her little office surrounded with books with titles like “Mushrooms Demystified”, “Food Plants of Interior First Peoples”, and right beside them (the real treat), “Myxomycetes: A Handbook of Slime Molds”. sun hustles in the window coming from behind angelic clouds billowing up from a few outstanding firs and cedars that will stay rich and dark all winter long. beads of hail threw themselves at our wooden deck outside the kitchen doors this morning as my mother made her ancient recipe tea biscuits which i had so been longing for. (i butchered the recipe into rock cakes in an attempt to recreate the magical biscuits while in germany. never trust baking powder with a german translation of backpulver…)

after a traumatizing 38 hours in transit from berlin to metchosin, including a rockin 13 hours of sleep-on-the-cold-floor, eat-chez-mcdonalds-for-breakfast in the paris cdg airport, i felt a sense of shell shock and have continued to have a strong inclination not to leave this house on camas hill for quite some time.

however, we all know that is a hard bargain to bet for someone who has barely taken off their travelling shoes.

to doodle

My friend Byron Fry came over the other night to take some pictures, and by chance, told me about the Western Canada Wilderness Comittee’s trip to Tofino this weekend, and suggested i find a way to come along. the folks at wcwc are some of the most admirable people i know for their dedication to saving Old Growth Forests on Vancouver Island, and this weekend will serve as my first intentional walk into a (reeeeeally) old growth forest with two local Tlaoquiaht first nation’s guides to show us the way! truly exciting. plus, we get to learn from the best about how to boost our knowledge of environmental activism-y skills, as well. just in time, too, those skills may come in handy for any upcoming copenhagen events.

i’m a long, long ways away from where I was on monday, sleeping in late and pressing two little cups of breakfast coffee amidst celebrations of the 20th anniversary of the fall of the wall, and i’m even further away from my psycho summer spent entirely on a bicycle… but things are good here at home. and i’m happy to be back on the wild west coast.

prost.

bike doodle



toilet wisdom

04Nov09

The beginning of an attempt to document the wisdom that inspires a certain few while in the confines of a public washroom. Berlin’s WCs are a mecca for colourful artistry and let seat wisdom or, “the writing on the stalls”, if you prefer. For some strange reason I am intrigued by these closet conversations and might just keep a regular tally of them!

help others

Morgenrot Cafe, Berlin


In appreciation of the new chilly season which is worn on my shoulders daily, and after a long anticipated and over-extended wait, i’ve uploaded a few photos to my secret online gallery at flickr.com … hurrah!

spiral and haze

Unfortunately i don’t quite understand flickr, so for now this is the numerical/alphabetical disaster of a link to see those clickers: http://www.flickr.com/photos/39760784@N06/sets/72157622577916910/

I’d like to take a few and craft some stories around them… hopefully that project takes off sometime soon and I’ll have exciting treats on the saltd lion in der near futur.


Oswiecim

29Sep09

wind amplified in hollow echoes through tour headphones. yellow leaves softly falling to the ground. a corridor of photos. portraits. number. name. arrival. birth. death.

a corridor of faces. of eyes.

we trudge along in lines. stomach doing knots. knees weak. overwhelmed, shocked by history realized. experiment. punishment. perished. stripped.

this basement.

something in my throat. scenery only relatable to a movie set.

i had school field trips to the hartland land fill. 14 year old polish students are obliged a field trip here. sideswept bangs, dark eyeshadow, spikey blond hair, long-sleeved billabong sweaters.

tom from bellevue, beck from (r)adelaide, me, and 2000 others following each other’s footsteps through camp #1.

this building.

opening in ceiling. black ceiling. i’ve been to a crematorium before, but it had a sitting room, and civility.

headphones off. slow steps. here. right here. she compares our lives, today, with their lives, that happened, right here. “you can say today that we lived comfortably…”

yes.

this barracks… 52 horses or 1000 people. smell of ages. leaning against the wall.

i’m cold. it was colder. i’m hungry. they were hungrier.

i just don’t want to see anymore.


dr. loose leap

25Sep09

a new day ıs upon us and ı shall be leavıng thıs country once more. who knows when to return.

ıncluded ın the day has been wakıng up slow to make myself eggs and cheese toast and tea. wanderıng the streets wıth an 8lb package to be maıled home wıth success (sorry for the dırty clothes, mom), stoppıng for one last tıme at a turkısh patısserıe for some turkısh treats of gooey stıcky honey dıpped baklava, a present for the amazıng man whose couch ı have been surfıng for a grand total of about 2 weeks now (he says he ıs goıng to go on a two month break from hostıng people now… oops! thanks emre!), loadıng my backpack to the brım, bungeeıng a stuff sack to the back of my bıke, lookıng up a hostel ın odessa, and shortly ı wıll be paradıng the brodıe elan we have all come to love down a flıght of staırs and back ınto the great outdoors for one last rıde through turkey. well, through istıklal ı suppose… seeıng as the ferry to the ukraine leaves from the bottom of the hill.

40 hours from 5pm tonıght ı’ll be in odessa by way of the black sea, and back to a cyrillic (sp?) alphabet. great.

but for now ıts goodbye to ıstanbul. the cıty that has been so good to me from the start on that day when we rode ınto the marmara sea on our bıkes and then the hıghway dıdnt even bother to eat me up alıve despıte my foolısh cyclıng pattern.

where pedestrians move the streets.

where you can’t help but love shaved meat.

where call to prayer crackles loudly on the hour,

from speakers atop every mosque tower.

where starbucks reigns on istiklal,

where a haze of smoke puffs from sultanamet’s bowel.

sip tea with salesmen.

buy a blue bead talisman.