Monday, May 31, 2010

To turn or not to turn

I've been wanting a space of earth I can call my own (or rent my own) for awhile now. I finally found it in the beautiful almost country like setting in Lasalle, on the south western part of the island of Montreal. I've also been meaning to set up a serious garden of my own, which I began yesterday at one o'clock, and after completing two rows of four, arrived home at 9pm. Hard work, but I prefer it to working in an office!

What is earth, the feel of it in the hands, the roughness of stone and silk of sand. The natural chemicals released as the ground is turned, worked, sifted. The movements, the bending, natural arc of the body, the hand. The mind curves in turn, atuned to the natural rhythms of the earth. Seriously, it's flesh and blood poetry. And I'm hooked.



Saturday, May 29, 2010

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Intuitively, passionately, without reservation (well perhaps just a little), the fantasy suspends essential parts--it is atemporal; it is vertigo.

I wrote about labyrinths last December, a work I shall return to soon. They hold such fascination. Were once believed to hold miraculous curative powers. Are meditative. Transgress the planes of consciousness. Yum.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Mixer Upper

1 part Gabriel Byrne, an armful of Gerard Depardieu, many cups of Sir Ben Kingsley, a brawny helping of Liam Neeson, and a full serving of Bruce Lee.


Oh, and that ginger from Queens of the Stone Age. And Titus Pullo, of course.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Kрасивая печаль

Since I discovered the Russian language at 21, after being engaged to a beautiful Moscovite for a brief stint, I have sought out opportunities to be closer to their culture, music and literature. Simply put, I love Russians (u ya lublu Ruski yazik).

I am tied to their passion, their pain. Their ability to adapt and create amidst shift and structure, plague and suture. The gift of insight into all that is flawed, that is human.

And so. I am always moved to tears watching this, the two, together. This union of omni-potens between the man who breaks my heart (20 years now) Vladimir Vysotsky, and the man who puts it back together, Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Bruce Lee, where are you when I need you?

I have lost my centre and cannot seem to retrieve it. I need a team of martial artists to take over my life.

That's right. A TEAM.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010


Hold me, silt and dust. Cover me the light, the air, the
silk. The river like a bow, we lie together. Our backs
bent. Caledonia Highlands, Prince Albert's footprint, and
John F. Kennedy Jr.

Of the lion's coat, a ship of Ἑλλάς, now golden-crowned;
tongues of thieves. Borrowed sight, but none of vision. The backs
of my grandfathers preparing my way to return
to the earth. Hard ground, now harder to (re)turn.
New Ireland, Albert Mines, Micmac Road. Trout in Wolfe lake,
Salem, the tracks removed. Lupines, caves, the lady slipper.
Wild blueberries at dawn. The trees, the lighthouse, the trees.
Cape Enrage. Ocean views, cliffs of vertigo.

Steeves, Phillips, O'Connor, Milton, Henwood, Clements (Clermont).
Germantown, Coverdale, Doyle Hill. Hillsborough, Middlesex.

Waterfalls. Bridges.

The silt, the dust, the covering
of air. Call one home.

(now, where to find 400 thousand dollars... anyone want to live on an organic commune with me? Complete with swimming ponds and forest paths, and so much land to get lost in)

Friday, May 07, 2010

Montreal Cats

Just a note for any cat owners out there in Montreal.

I have two cats (15 and 20), both who decided to get sick at the same time (one suffering from kidney disease and one from hyperthyroidism). I've been treating them with *some* recommendations from my vet but have had most success and witnessed the most progress and healing in dealing with a wonderful homeopathic practitioner who deals almost exclusively with animals. And I've switched their diet to RAW food and took away the dry completely (I only feed canned food at night, and only Wellness). (Read the truth about dry cat food)

My cautionary advice: I only know of ONE certified natural homeopathic animal practitioner in Montreal, and she is affiliated with the NHC and MICH homeopathic schools (Read up on homeopathic medicine for cats). Others area vets and former petstore owners, etc. tend to market themselves as homeopathic but use multiple remedies (ie. "urinary tract infection" remedy, that may contain 5 different medicines). This goes entirely against homeopathic treatment, which traditionally uses one remedy at a time. The idea is to treat the WHOLE patient, and then observe the one remedy's affects. This is also the case for human treatment.


Animals deserve humane and proper treatment. Moving day is coming up in Montreal. Please don't abandon a domesticated animal. Contrary to popular belief, they cannot care for themselves once they've been fed and taken care of by humans. Call the SPCA or a local animal shelter, and put up ads on telephone posts, craigslist, or kijiji. Ask a family member or a coworker to take care of your pet until you can find it a permanent and caring home. Take responsibility for the innocent creatures we share the planet with, and for those you agreed to care for in the first place.

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Dear Montreal

You are beautiful, really, but we must have a chat.

For nearly 5 years now I have been witness to your charms--the moonlight over your slim cousin, Saint Lawrence, stirring birds and beasts alike; your poetry, music to the streets at night, the sign posts and snow hills soiled with the print of human. Dirty, hard lucked; but music nonetheless.

However. The ease with which you judge your inhabitants harshly--in their dress, manner of being, the neighbourhood one lives in, or the amount of money one may have--is heartbreaking. Is this the air of the early poets who nominated the lonely walks of Montreal as intimate, rich, fierce? Are we not all of us Lords of Life?

My heart is heavy tonight, darling. I want so much to love you, your lights, your old walls and heavy ego. But there seems so often no place for my kind. Or rather, that I am invisible among thieves.

And so I retreat to your garden.
And I thank you for that.

You are a place one can disappear into. That's quite a feat, you, being merely an island.

Or perhaps it is I who remains the same,
wherever it is that I land.
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