Shelf tour #7: My Ariel

So I’ve been going awfully slow with this posting thing because in staring at all the unread books they’ve been drawing me into actually reading them. That’s the case with My Ariel by Sina Queyras.

My Ariel really jumps out on the shelf because it’s thick and has eye catching type. I bought this right when it was released but haven’t been able to read it until now. I respect Queyras as a person more than I can say, and they are one of my favourite writers. Each of their books is magnificent, and though widely varied in subject matter each is wrenching and transformative in its own way. I knew reading this book would be an intense experience and one I somehow didn’t feel ready for until this weekend. I wasn’t feeling well Saturday and spent most of the day resting, and it was just right—the right moment for me to begin. And my word, this book. It’s so good. I’m only a third through so I should probably finish it before I go on and on about it but it’s incredible. As eviscerating as I expected and with a twist, as Queyras writes in a slightly different style with a clarity so true and loud it leaves your ears ringing. I love Sylvia Plath’s poetry but I’m not terribly knowledgeable about her—I’ve watched the movie and we discussed her bio a bit in one or two classes I took—but I never researched her or read her letters or anything (nor could I get into the Bell Jar). If you’re afraid you need to be a Plath scholar to get into this book I’d say definitely not—like OO by Spinosa it’s might inspire one to read the referenced works but it doesn’t exclude readers who haven’t.

I might write more about My Ariel when I’ve finished it, but I’m so glad it was finally my moment to read this book. It’s stunning.

Ooh my heart: “OO: Typewriter Poems” by Dani Spinosa

I usually only ever feel like writing about books I really love, and I usually don’t end up doing so because I mull it over for so long I lose the thread. So here are some quick thoughts and immediate reactions to Dani Spinosa’s beautiful “OO: Typewriter Poems.” Mainly, on how much it makes me want to go make stuff.

First—labour. You can see and feel the work in these poems. The physical presence of the poet—in the typing, and to a lesser extent, in rendering the work in electronic format to make a book. It gives the book a striking and intimate immediacy. The poems where layers of typing obscure words are especially poignant—like I could feel the process of the author writing and erasing through writing and how much thought and emotion might go into such an act. This tactile thoughtful beauty makes me want to go write asap. 

Next—when I’m really excited about a book I can barely focus on it. My mind starts spinning off at full speed thinking about what it means and also what art I want to make inspired by it. That’s what I felt here and I feel so gratified by the conversation between Dani Spinosa and Kate Siklosi at the end in which this idea—of inspiration and in being in conversation with other authors—is so elevated. That this reaction is not a matter of being distractible, but a way of engaging. 

I love, too, the discussion of the gendered elements of that dynamic. This too is also personally so gratifying for me given that I have an interest in writing through/back at male (and sometimes misogynistic) writers through history whose work has inspired me. I’ve been thinking lately of doing more poems like Other Observations and keep wondering if anyone would care for such a book, but here I find this impulse shown to be not a personal compulsion but rather a broader interest shared with other writers. That’s pretty cool. 

What’s especially interesting too is that a book like this could easily be cruel, condescending, or dismissive. But the author interacts with others in a way that is critical but not mean-spirited. It’s thoughtful and a pleasure to experience. 

I also love the emphasis in the afterword conversation that the author places on not caring about making perfect things or what others think. This idea is the reason I keep this blog. There is so much pressure—whether from other writers or from the impulse to professionalize or from Instagram—to only create and share perfect things and that for me absolutely obliterates creativity. More mess, more attempts, more works in progress, more everything please. 

Also from the afterword—femmeship. This is lovely and really open in a kind of riot grrrl way that’s warm and strong and encouraging and comforting and inspiring. A concept that pushes back at any impulse that says there’s not enough space.

The discussion of the kind of insecure and boastful aspect of asking other people if they’ve read X is especially well taken here, because like the potential of such a book to be cruel it also has the potential to be snobby and exclusive—like, what, you don’t know all these author? Psh. But this too it avoids through thoughtfulness and an appreciation of the relationships between authors—the connections—rather than treating one’s influences and passions as tokens in an avant-gardist social status game. Instead this is a work of enthusiasm, sharing this catalogue of other writers with readers with affection. 

I loved this book. I love that it exists for people who might just be discovering visual poetry and becoming visual poets now. I think of myself about a decade ago, digging around for women visual poets, printing out Mary Ellen Solt’s poems and my sister binding them into a book for me. Sitting in my room reading in a sunbeam, my mom ironing in the next room, reading about Solt writing on her ironing board. I still have that homemade book on my shelf. I’m so glad this book exists—for what it means not only to me to read it now, but for what it will mean to others who are looking for a way in to vispo that speaks to them and their lives. I love that it exists for the people who are going to be totally blown away by Spinosa and Siklosi’s conversation, having never read anything quite like that before. This book is a real gift to vispo, it’s fans and present and future practitioners. It means a lot.

Missing Pieces

Physical distancing is a strange experience from an arts and crafts and writing perspective for me because usually I have a constant push/pull in my personal time of what I’d like to be doing—arts or other. Other contains a vast array of options—going to grocery stores, cooking, visiting friends, spending time with partner, going to the movies, going to the park, spending time with family, going to shows, going to restaurants, museums, and shops, and on and on. Sometimes I’ll do Other for a long time and long to make time to make stuff. Other times I’ll stay in my pjs until 3pm on a winter Saturday fiddling with some yarn and really wish I’d done Other while the sun was up, or that I’d at least showered. Now, there’s little internal conflict. Aside from watching movies, the one video game I can play, cooking, and board games, making stuff is the only thing to do.

Up until now I’d long for enough time to finish my art in my varied, balanced lifestyle. But having an unbalanced lifestyle foisted on my makes me see how much that blend of things made the time I had more productive and poignant. Without going out to chat with others about making stuff it’s not as fun. Without carving out time to work on stuff I don’t get down to business with the same focus. Without being able to plan to share things with others it’s not quite as fun—I always look forward to sharing things, hoping it’ll spark that moment of connection with another—that lovely moment. And without going out in the world all the stimuli I normally get inspired by isn’t there.

These are all very mild symptoms. I actually feel quite fortunate right now that my personal passions are arts and crafts and writing, rather than things that can only be done in public in large groups. I’ve been working on this and that and have been finding those endeavours pleasant. I’m sure that’s making this time easier for me. Indeed, when considering having to do this for an extended period of time I think I could do so with relatively good humour. But it is teaching me to value times when I don’t have enough time to do a lot of art all the more. To see how all the parts of my life fit together and complement one another. I have a long list of art projects I want to finish, but finishing them won’t complete them. They’re only complete when shared with others. I miss that, sharing my own stuff or getting the chance to see the art of others, hear the readings of others in person, and go to shows. Of course all the online stuff is great, and we’re so fortunate to have so many ways of connecting when we can’t be together. But that in person thing is a special kind of magic that I miss. When we’re back in the world again I think I’ll appreciate all the more the time each component of my life requires, and that time away from art is as big a part of it as the time spent on it. I’ve also learned time is not the issue—indeed there is no issue. Art takes a long time—I suspect a number of the books I have in mind will take many more years yet, maybe decades. These things are lifelong things, being a writer, being an artist. I’ll never finish the list… maybe just add to it as things slowly get crossed off. Which is good. The purpose is just to be—to be self-actualized and to do and share, to keep working and growing and longing. Not to cross of the list and then move on with life. It’s a drive, and not one that would never be satisfied by more time. As long as I am, I’ll be longing to make things. And for as long as I make things, I will want to share them. Looking forward to sharing in person again… one day.

Shelf Tour #6: Surfaces

Fridays are sort of strange now. That kid feeling of “the weekend!!!!” is sort of replaced with “well, I guess I’ll keep sitting here…” so today I wanted to do something out of the ordinary. So, I went through Eric Schmaltz’s beautiful book “Surfaces.” This is one of my most recent acquisitions, bought as a COVID cheer-up item. I’d wanted it for a while and wanted to spend a bit of money at Shelf Life since I’m presently employed, and I’m glad I got it. These posts aren’t meant to be reviews, but I love how this book reminds me of graphic design from when I was a kid, of the rolls of drawings my dad would be working on, and the stationary store near my house growing up… the wonderful shelves of pens and pencils and erasers and notebooks for various notepads for various vocations. Also check out this cover… the textures remind me both of cuts and of Kyle Flemmer’s sonnets. Very cool, very evocative. This one’s been sitting on the new books pile so now it’ll take its place on the Canadian poetry shelf.

Shelf Tour #5: Stampede

Aside from five years in Montreal, I’ve lived all my life in Calgary. The announcement today that Stampede is being cancelled this year upset me more than I expected. It was inevitable, I know, but the Stampede being cancelled in some ways makes the effect of COVID on all our lives and this city feel all the more deep and real and intractable. As Mayor Nenshi said, this is tough—even the flood didn’t stop Stampede from going forward. I’m definitely not oblivious to the problematic things that crop up every year because of Stampede, and I loath almost all the country music I’ve ever heard, but this one still gets me. From the goofy window drawings, to childhood memories of having and ice cream with my mom and sister in Weadickville or watching the fireworks from Scotchman’s Hill with my dad, to getting to see bands I wouldn’t have been able to afford otherwise at the Coke Stage as a teenager, to enjoying a distracting day of fun when my dad was in the hospital, to chatting up the gardening people about what’s going wrong with my kale (everything!) and wandering around the art show, and of course, hiding from the the yearly hail storm no matter my age and eating mini doughnuts and watching the Powow dances, the Stampede is such a fixture that it feels like cancelling… I dunno. Regular life? Finding out in the same breath that Folk Fest was also cancelled was sadder still. I love Folk Fest and am very sorry and sad to see it cancelled too.

So, today it’s a Stampede book. I haven’t read this one… I think I got it at the CBC book sale, or my mom might have picked it up for me. I have a little collection of Western Canadian/Calgary community histories, and this is one of those. I think I might actually dig into this one on the weekend.

Shelf Tour #4: The Forks! The Lap! The Forks! The Lap!

Today is allegedly “Canadian Film Day” which might be a made up thing the toby I lived with used as an excuse to have us rewatch “My Winnipeg,” but that’s neither here nor there, as one needs no excuse to rewatch “My Winnipeg.” It is the best movie and one should periodically rewatch it unprompted for maximum enjoyment of life.

I first watched it after my mom, when she’d taken it out from the library. She wasn’t sure if I, not a Winnipegger like her, would appreciate it (she’s not from there but lived there for many years). At the time I was preparing to move to Montreal and a wept and wept watching it. Every time since then I’ve laughed hysterically at it. One day I would love to write something analogous for Calgary. For this reason when I found out Coach House had a “My Winnipeg” book I ordered it immediately, and have proceeded in my usual way to not read it but just poses it, greedily.

We got talking about Manitoba, and books, and that brings us a special guest book from the toby’s shelf: “Manitoba Book of Everything.”

In reading a list of “You Know You’re from Manitoba When”s from this book, I’ve learned that Winnipeggers yell “Halloween Apples!” either instead of or in addition to “Trick or treat!” when trick or treating. How interesting… how bizarre…

Shelf Tour #3: Tartans!

Today is the first in a long list of books that I got at the Fair’s Fair on 17th Ave & 14th. Sigh. I miss that bookstore so much. I’d gone there since I was a little kid and so many of my favourite book memories were there. Also Off the Wall. Ugh I still miss that place so much it hurts.

I don’t have the steam to write more about bookstore grief today, so here’s today’s book!

I bought this book because I thought “woah—how unique” though the next time I went to the store there was another copy on the shelf, ha! That quip aside I think this book is super appealing—it contains all these full colour reproductions of Scottish tartans alongside explanations of them. In some ways this seemed like the sort of book that wouldn’t get made anymore, and I really love books from the not at all distant past that might not be produced today. Often those are heavily illustrated books, to which I’m always drawn, and this one appealed to that sensibility.

Here’s the Anderson tartan for my friend Isobel :)

Anyway—as I mentioned—low on stream today. TTFN

Shelf Tour #2: My Cat My Soulmate

This one sort of stretches the definition of book a little due to length, but it’s a fun one… I’m feeling headachey and grumpy and thought a book of pure cheer would be good for today.

In November we had the great joy and privilege of visiting some good friends in Amsterdam. The trip was very special—not only were we able to explore this beautiful city with our pals but after a few extremely stressful, sad years of my dad being sick and passing this big holiday was an incredible boost. I’m grateful too that we got to go before COVID.

On the trip we visited Budapest and Amsterdam. Though Budapest we approached in a different way better suited to the emotional resonance of the city, Amsterdam we approached in the usual way we do—highly scheduled! We love museums and want to cram as many in as possible in the time we have. We usually get worn out after a few days of this type of behaviour, so on one of the last days we went to the coziest possible museum in this city of endless museums—Katten Kabinet. It’s a museum of cats! No, not of upsetting taxidermy, but cat paintings and posters and sculptures (including a lot of like really legit art—pretty impressive!) and there are even a few adorable cats who live in the museum who come out to meet you if they feel like it, and run away back to their private floor if they don’t. One napped in the gift shop. It was awesome.

Aside from this being just a really fun and relaxing place it was nice after a week to meet some animal friends, as we were missing our little bruiser, Betty.

Anyway, like I said this is more of a glorified pamphlet than a book, with just a handful of pages of artists with cats, and/or with a quote from them about cats. Pure tourist souvenir fodder, and like yes cat museum—take my money!

So anyway—this one’s a memento of a lovely place on a lovely day on a lovely trip. Such things are especially nice to cherish in times like this.

Shelf Tour #1: Reptiles and AmphibianS

I’ve been mulling over where to start and kept thinking of a book that’d require more explanation and then this one popped into my head seemingly out of nowhere. I saw an early photo of London on a friend’s Facebook page and I thought “I really don’t Facebook right—I don’t follow any account with neat photos” and this came to mind. It has nothing to do with London or history or photography. Make of that what you will.

I bought this book sometime in the last three years or so on a family trip to Edmonton at that city’s magnificent Alhambra bookstore. That place is so wonderful—I think I might have got this on my first visit when I wanted to buy something that’d remind me of the place and it’s vibe. It’s got high shelves and the best possible used bookstore stock—a perfect mix of oddball books and wonderfully entertaining books and ones that you feel will definitely make you smarter. I don’t say all this for the sake of sounding chirpy and cheerful on the Internet… this is the depth of my feeling for this place—it’s wonderful.

So anyway, on at least one occasion I bought a mighty, perhaps an unreasonably mighty, stack of books from them, and I think this one felt like Alhambra to me—like a book to remember that bookstore by.

It looks like it was $4 which is pretty darn fair I think, and it’s just gorgeous. I love the late 50s combination of hand painted illustrations and modern typefaces. The interior is just wonderful:

I very clearly remember crouching on the floor agonizing over whether or not to buy this book because it’s not something I needed in any sense, but it made me happy so I eventually settled on bringing it home.

One of the reasons I was so drawn to it, I think, was because as a child, when not wanting to be a writer or a spy, I wanted to be a herpetologist, so this harkens back to those childhood dreams. The illustrations also remind me of this book of prehistoric creatures we had when we were little that I loved and read many times. It also just seemed really unique—like something I could get there at Alhambra but which I might not see the likes of again.

So that’s book #1! I checked online at from their Facebook page it looks like the store is currently, temporarily closed for safety during the pandemic. I hope, as I’m sure many of their grateful patrons do, to be able to visit them again one day when this is over. The memories of that place are really lovely anytime, but especially at a time like this.

Bookshelf Tour

I wrote a while ago that I’m trying to not over-plan this time spent at home to make isolation, including not telling myself I need to read all my unread books. Now, my usual choice of exercise is to go for walks, but because everyone else is out there walking and because it’s still February in Calgary I’ve been exercising at home, which involves a lot of staring at my bookshelf as that’s the room I exercise in. I’m still not going to attempt to read them all because we’re not going to be inside long enough I don’t think (I’m a sloooow reader when reading for pleasure) but I find myself thinking a lot about books as objects and the memories attached to them. I find spending time with the bookcase nice—reflecting on the people, time, places, and events that the books remind me of. So, I’m going to start sharing the books on here—not reviewing them but talking about why they’re part of my library after multiple moves and weedings, and what they mean to me, as well as discussing their content when it feels right to do so. I think this will be a nice way both to appreciate what I have—this collection I’m fortunate to have—as well as a nice way to connect with others and memories of before our isolation began. I’m not good at following rules so I don’t know how frequently I’ll post, but probably fairly frequently. I’m excited to spend time with my books and share them with you.

Back at it

The past few weeks have spread out like months, but then again, we now seem surprisingly far into April now. I’ve accomplished… basically nothing since self-isolation began. I’ve felt very introspective on the one hand, and on the other, focused on making daily life as pleasant as possible as we settle into this new indoor lifestyle. I’m normally staying up late, working hard on this and that, trying to get so many things done in my spare time… I cannot remember the last time I spent so much time basically just taking it easy. Now that I’ve adjusted to it, though, I feel back in a creative space. We now know we’re likely to be social distancing and self-isolating for months, it seems like a good idea to plan some long-term projects. But I plan to take them slow. Being at home now I realize how much I rely on going out to balance out my over-working at home. I’ll get deep into something for a while, pour a lot into it, feel both jazzed and worn out by it, then go out there and do something completely different. Now, there’s no more of that counterbalance. So I think it’s important to keep things all very reasonable and relaxing. There’s no way to tell what the coming months hold - for me, my family, my friends, city, country, the world. I think this will be a good time to put those introvert crafter skills to good use to pass the time inside, but I also don’t want to put any pressure on myself. Everything I plan right now might be upended, and I think it’s better to be open to how I’m feeling each day, to have lots of space in case something urgent needs to take over. As everyone keeps saying, this is an unprecedented situation. So rather than my usual go, go, go, long-term goals, big picture, loads of work in the present thing, I’m just going to let each day be itself. And maybe get a few things done along the way, if that works out. I plan on posting regularly as a way of staying in touch, and a way of passing this time.

COVID-19 Store Changes

While social distancing measures are in place, for the time being, Calgary orders can be placed for contactless drop-off only. Otherwise, for now, pre-orders are most welcome and gratefully appreciated, to be shipped using Canada Post upon the end of social distancing measures in Calgary, Alberta.

Recollections

I was looking for some piece of art… a watercolour of Montreal I think, and came across some drawings I did when I was 18 or 19. I drew a lot of birch and poplar trees—I’d completely forgotten how much I loved drawing those. I also have a bunch of frames I bought at IKEA to prep for Starry Dynamo that I didn’t use that I was going to return, but now that we’re stuck inside I thought I’d use them. So last night I made this as a fun project to use these leaves I collected on a family drive to Kananaskis this fall. I kind of neglected them on a shelf until David pointed them out to me recently, so I’m pleased to have incorporated them into a project now. Here’s the final product, and you can see the processing photos here. I’d post them but my internet is slow as molasses today!

Food, Grief, and COVID

Today’s a beautiful spring day, and while it’s easy for me to self isolate in winter and functionally end up doing it all on my own, this nice weather makes me realize how sad this is really going to be, for me and everyone.

It’s a sad time of year anyway because my dad’s birthday is on the 29th. This year I was going to be away and visit friends—a great way to honour my dad who loved pals and travel both. I thought that, or just the passage of time, might make this day easier. The media discussion and general fear of the potential loss of many of our older loved ones because of COVID is also, of course, not making my own loss seem easier. Just as I think I, and many of us, look to nature in times of grief which is complicated when the natural world is dying all around us, so too do I look to spring scenes of life going on, people together giving life meaning and all that, which is also not possible when the world is in a state of self isolated deadly pandemic.

The food thing though. This is sad too. At the base of course food is a basic physical need. But after that food is so much of our cultures, families, meaningful moments and holiday, friendships, celebrations, and emotional treats even. The panic buying… I don’t want to be too judgemental because I understand that some people might be scared and overdo it out of a genuine feeling of uncontrollable anxiety. But I find I’m starting to get stressed about meeting my physical needs—I’m on a medical diet for IBS and need some foods and can’t eat others, and I’m becoming stressed by the cleaned out shelves. So today I went through our freezer and cupboard and made sure we had two weeks of stuff as advised on one of the daily COVID update, both to be confident we’re set for that but also so I could feel confident in preparing the other shelf stable food we have, now or as per usual, like some noodles or whatever.

There are some things in the cupboard that are especially emotional. A container of caraway seeds my dad—who could no longer drive because of chemo neuropathy—has my mom drop off for me when I was sick so I could make his cure-all caraway and potato soup. A bag of expired pickled mustard greens we bought on one of our trips to T&T after we got the wheelchair for him—the very first thing we did, actually, though I think we got these on a later trip. These thing are in the cupboard because they’re technically food, but they’re not in there because I plan to eat them. They’re mementos made of food—one of our favourite and strongest shared things in addition to art.

I very strongly associate many favourite foods, or the idea of food as an adventure to share with others, with my dad. Like I said, going to favourite grocery stores like T&T and the Hong Kong Market were our first trips when we got the wheelchair, aside from art galleries and museums (also closed now). I think this strange food environment is going to make his birthday hard. We’re not having a famine or true food shortage but people do keep beating me to the punch at the store (I don’t want to go early when it’s busy and get close to people—that’s the main thing we’re supposed to avoid, right?) and I’m not sure how long this behaviour is going to last. Maybe next week my family will still be able to get some takeout from a favourite restaurant of my dad’s, but we can’t sit together to eat it. Nor could we cook something together and enjoy it.

Last year I went to Scarponi’s and bought my dad’s favourite things from the deli and some cake, and I ate lunch with him at his resting place. I brought him flowers from Co-op too. I went to the Esker where we had such beautiful experiences of art together. For dinner we gathered with friends in a busy restaurant—Raj Palace—my dad’s favourite Indian place—and sat together and enjoyed a delicious meal and fun chat.

I find it a little hard to talk about the emotional and social needs related to food as I know some people don’t get their physical food needs met, and that’s not ok, and I don’t mean to sound oblivious or like a total tool. But I think a lot of us will also feel the lack of some of the emotional, social needs we have around food in these coming days, weeks, and months. I certainly will. I’m trying not to be afraid of COVID and to take care of my emotional well-being—to follow the directives on keeping myself and others safe, and to take solace in how enthusiastically everyone I know has picked up these measures. But the idea of eating a can of no salt mushroom soup mixed with water on my dad’s birthday is really, really sad. Just as we’ll miss each other on the days we want to spend with each other, I think we’ll miss all the social parts of eating together. I don’t really have a point. It’s just one more thing to grieve in this time of grief. It’s a personal grief—me and my dad—and it’s a large-scale social grief many will feel. I remember how important it was bringing my dad favourite foods in the hospital. What if people can’t even visit their loved ones? It’s all just sad. That’s all.

Art subject matter and COVID

Reading that social distancing is likely to go on for months I find my myself considering which art projects I want to work on over that time. I have a project called The Winter Garden which is apocalyptic, and some others that deal with the grief of loosing my dad. Otherwise my stuff’s all over the place—flowers, an odd novel, paintings, animals, personal experiences… I wonder—will I want to work on things that are really in the nose, or will that make it harder? And what will people feel they want to read or see—something completely different or something dealing with this experience? I just don’t know. Probably a bit of both I guess.

Reading indoors

It occurs to me that even if I did nothing but read books in my spare time during our mass confinement I probably have a 0% chance max of reading all the books I already own. This is partly because I read so slowly and partly because of the quantity of books. I feel a little funny about this but mostly fine. A personal library is a lot of things but a timed project I think it is not.

I am mulling over trying to go through the various “learn to draw” and “learn to bind books” and “here’s how to calligraphy” and “acrylics—voila” books I have though. Those artistic skills I wish I had but never work on because they take a long time to master. Perhaps this is a good moment to give those a try methodically and see if indeed I do wish to bind books or if I’d rather continue not doing so indefinitely. I already have a lot of creative pursuits and I sort of suspect that if I’m not doing a thing it’s because that thing isn’t really for me, but now I could see. Am I a secret bookbinder in waiting? Now I could find out…

No writing or art again today! Still relaxing into this new indoor lifestyle. Thinking about this idea with some leaves and an ikea ribba shadowbox frame and ink and felt pens though. Doing so while wrapped in two fleecy blankets with no intention of moving enough to let any limb get cold. Watching Dylan Moran. I feel validated by him about the whole fleecy blanket situation.

Rest and relaxation

As I’ve mentioned before I’m a dedicated night owl, but looking in the mirror tonight at not even 11pm I look wrecked. Last day working outside the house for me, and it was pretty agonizing. I feel worn out by it, though now that I’m pretty much just gonna do as every level of government and medical professional says and stay in my home I feel much more relaxed and that I’m doing my part. I know this might go on for a long time but giving a flip through social media I feel totally overwhelmed by the number of tasks and hobbies and projects and resources and entertainment options and think pieces and online version of in-person events and museum tours and books and audiobooks and so on everyone is posting. It’s cool everyone is so industrious and wants to share things that other people might dig at a time like this (and that everyone is so dedicated to staying in touch… this does make me feel like I’m perhaps a bit more solitary than average than I previously realized…) but honestly, I feel like in my free time I just want to watch a couple old movies I’ve nearly memorized and maybe stare into space for a little while. I’ve had a job where I go to a place to work since I was 15 and aside from one summer working on my MA project (and even then I frequented the library) I’ve never been home full time since I was… what… 3 years old maybe? Yes, I’m inclined to spend lots of time at home, staying up late alone and collaging random things on to other things while the other beings inhabiting this house sleep (partner, furious tortie cat), but being an artistic homebody who likes some alone time is different than trying to spend as much time away from others as possible to prevent a deadly virus from spreading, of course. As I mentioned in my last post I think the best approach for me, when I’m not carrying on with my full time job, will be to do things in moderation. Keep up with art, but also make sure I’m spending some time staring off into space. I might get bored or stir crazy at some point down the line but for now just doing the usual daily stuff and processing the daily local pandemic news feels like enough to keep me occupied. We’ll see how that goes.

As for art, like I said, I’m pretty drained today. Thought about sending out the monthly newsletter with the online stuff people can check out from us but then thought “people seem to have a lot available online to do already” and just wrote this. Will do that another day soon. Thought about writing poems, too tired. Bed before midnight maybe? Weird.

COVID-19 Plans

When it became apparent that the spread of COVID-19 would mean a lot more time indoors, for a second I thought “oh yeah—I’ve got this.” Truly, my natural tendency is to stay home writing and making art and never go out and see anyone except my family, and to go to parks. Also I like restaurants. But anyway my point is that I actively remind myself to socialize because I know I enjoy it and it enriches my life, even when staying home is a big joy in my life too. After tomorrow I’ll be working at home for… I don’t know how long. I don’t think any of us know what exactly is going to happen. I hope it’s not long for the sake of public health but it could be a while. So I’m thinking about how to manage all that home time… I think I’m going to need to actively not fall into an art hole… deliberately make time for things like exercise and leisure such as reading and watching tv. I know I can burn myself out with the intensity of my focus on art and writing so I’m going to be conscious about avoiding that. I’ll still have more time than before to work on art and writing which I’ll document here, but I’m resisting the urge to say “FINALLY I WILL FINISH THE 17 BOOKS ON MY LIST I WANT TO WRITE MWAHAHA!” Because even though I will be staying home more—a lot more—to do my part for public health, if this turns out to be a protracted thing I think it’ll be easier the more balance I maintain from the very beginning. Tonight we watched The 36th Chamber of Shaolin and I didn’t make anything and it was awesome.

Night off

Today… thought about writing… poems for a collab, finishing up my next manuscript, working on Winter Garden. Thought about working on a commission, thought about working on a new piece of birch trees. Thought about weaving. Thought about working on a Lady and the Lathe piece. Thought about adding items I photographed this weekend to my store.

Did weights, squats, a little bit of stretching, ate some spicy tofu soup I made, and some key lime pie from Duchess Bakery (special delivery—thanks Julya!) and watched Hell Boy (the new one) which was some perfect metal schlocky nonsense straight after my heart.

9pm still thinking about starting all the projects and more. Just gonna keep thinking for tonight I think.

The Mess of Success

So—I’ve been doing a lot of activities lately—art shows, readings, events, etc. I also have a full time job and a home life. Not that anyone would consider me some paragon of success but in chatting with others I know that seeing people online saying “look at all the stuff I’m doing falala!” can be alienating. Why, you might ask, why is it when I try to do extra stuff is everything a disaster? So I thought I’d share how I managed to get through the past six weeks.

First—Process in Process. I got the art show up by not over planning it. I took a pile of art—more than I needed—and my mom and just figured it out when we got there. We also hung some of the sets of work on string instead of individually 3Ming stuff up. Also, my mom helped me, and my sister gave me the clips for the laundry line hanging. They also got the food for that night which was indispensable. My job also doesn’t pay overtime but gives time off for extra hours and so I used up my overtime for the day the show went up.

I also worked ahead because while I was getting ready for that my good pal and collaborator Kate Siklosi was in Banff doing a residency and I knew I wanted to go see her on two occasions. So I knew I could do X amount but not more if we were going to have our time to hang out.

For the three readings I read stuff I had ready but hadn’t read before or hadn’t read in a while. I was very nearly late for one reading practicing it at home, but made it in the nick of time.

For The Bright Side Festival I was pretty careful about keeping my workspaces tidy which is not my normal operating procedure. I knew though that if I didn’t do this my house would descend into a level of untenable chaos. I deliberately stopped working an hour before I normally would and neatly put things away. For the show I also picked something I’d started over Christmas break when I cut the lathes and ladies out, so I wasn’t working from scratch. I had to push it though to be ready in time—just working on that on the weekend and in the evenings—no other extra stuff.

Writing the poems to go with Stacey Walyuchow’s art I did by spending snippets of time studying the art, and then setting aside one Sunday to just do those. I was pretty pooped both from the other stuff and from a hike we did but that actually put me in the exact right headspace to write. But it took discipline. I knew I couldn’t do anything else until it was done or time wouldn’t be in my side.

All this time I was measuring out my time and scheduling and tidying and doing yoga and all in all being very controlled about everything in a way that is very non-me. I think I missed cleaning sheets and towels one week but otherwise I was on top of it. If I was going to meet the promises I’d made to everyone I had to be super focused.

I got a grant application in just in time. Submitted 11:40 pm a whole 20 minutes before it was due. Sleepiness ensued…

Finally, getting ready for Starry Dynamo and having that and the two art shows in the same week pushed everything over the edge. We ate Thai Express and frozen pizza. I used a precious vacation day to take Friday off to prep for the market and also just chill after a big night of two shows. I cleaned up the mess I made over the past two weeks all day yesterday, and my desk is still half covered in junk. I drafted David into not doing chores the week before (so as to not have all this seem too one sided) and there were small Betty fur tumble weeds from the skipped week of vacuuming. I cleaned the fridge yesterday and there were some rice noodles that I couldn’t remember cooking and which had turned half black in their container. My neck and back hurt. I haven’t done yoga for a week and a half at least. I was so tired yesterday and now with the time change I’m totally beat.

I also didn’t do everything I wanted to. I deliberately scheduled one obligation for after all this when I would have liked to do it sooner. I have a list of things I wanted to prepare for the arts market that I never started or didn’t finish. Cloth still on the loom. Mini paintings I bought frames for not just unfinished but not even started. A chapbook of visual poetry yet to be scanned. I didn’t make plans to see any friends, even seeing my family less than usual, which is rare since my dad passed.

I don’t say any of this to whine about the amount of work this all was or to imply that something I’ve seemed excited about is actually rotten inside. Quite the contrary—I’m exceptionally pleased and fulfilled by the things I’ve gotten up to these past few months. I’ve had a lot of really, really amazing conversations with so many people about art and writing. I’ve had beautiful transformative experiences. I’m so happy to have made some things I’ve been dreaming about making. I’m touched—deeply touched—by the people who said my poems resonated with them or who bought art or a chapbook from me. I’m really happy about all of it. I say this to say—it’s a lot to do and it’s not like everything was easy and tidy and well organized along the way. I got it all done by sacrificing some things, like tidiness and socializing, though until the last week I really tried to emphasize the health stuff so I could make it to the end of the busy time. I couldn’t work at this pace indefinitely. Now I really just want to poke away at some poems slowly, watch a movie on my mom’s couch, go for a hike, and not do anything. I’d say read a book but I think I’m too sleepy. Anyway, I say this because if ever you feel like you’re not doing it all, that even though I posted about doing stuff on social media I’m not doing it all either, and I couldn’t have done what I did do without my family pitching in or my partner picking up some of my slack. I’m sleepy, I didn’t go to some shows I wanted to see. It was worth it for that burst of time but now I need a break from the scheduling… I am not regimented by nature and it’s not something I can do for long periods of time. So if that’s how you feel after giving it a big push I’m with you. And if you have cat fur tumbleweeds rolling through your house while you’re trying to finish your project I wanted you to know you’re not the only one…