Roots

Strolling down an avenue, encountering the billowing roots of aging trees, I think of rooting, embedding myself somewhere, settle, become familiar enough with a locale to burgeon, evolve and become rooted. Yet as I see these roots spill over paths, forced into confined quarters barricaded by sidewalk and curb, I think that the contortion is descriptive of how I would feel. But perhaps I need this squishing to produce new work. Limitations often provide an environment where production is prolific.

Listless

When I returned to Vancouver, just 6 weeks ago, sitting on this waterway seemed an appropriate reacquainting act. The restlessness of hands occupied with the tasks of everyday living are not yet finding materials that make this artist functional.

A studio is secured, and is currently housing remnants of other's lives; sorting, discarding and repacking are the daily activities. I can see the floor, now, and am hopeful that by months' end I shall resume my work.

Beginnings and endings. Begin again.

End with a new beginning.

Rain

http://vancouver.weatherpage.ca/


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Vancouver-westend.jpg

Today, after weeks of sun, the rain pours. Its a day when the deceit of the past is getting washed away from my soul. A day of reflection. A day of decisions about the future. A day of mourning. A day to beleive in myself. A day to replenish my joy in living. Rain, cleans my heart.

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For my own part, I don't believe in a partial liar--this art does not deal in veneer; a liar is a liar right through.
The Lair of the White Worm by Stoker, Bram View in context
A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth.
Fables by Aesop View in context
This fellow is either a lunatic or merely a liar--just a plain, every-day liar whom Yountsey has no call to kill.
Can Such Things Be? by Bierce, Ambrose View in context

More resultshttp://www.thefreedictionary.com/liar

Tiresome

Jericho Park, Vancouver, BC
Used to be a wonderous place, for me.

Now, I am driven to despise
this playground for the
enterprising liars
that populate that shore.

They feign morality.

The lies are as numerous
as the grains of mutilated rock
shipped to the beachside.

I hate lies. They are sand in my eyes.

http://www.jericho.bc.ca/webcam/webcam.html

Sunnyside

Voyeuristic, I note that the sun shines today, yesterday, last week and in recent memory... a phenomenon in Vancouver.

I say voyeuristic because I have trapped myself into the cloister of my dwelling, working towards a goal, to 'proofread' assignments, not my own, while life and sun continue outside my blinded windows. I peer through the slats, allowing my eyes to enjoy glimpses of the phosphorous green of the glowing cedars, wishing I was a part of the life that encompasses sunshiny days.

Meanwhile I continue to labour over the thousands of pages, where anatomy meets physiology, wondering when my corporeal self will emerge into the daylight, thinking that by the time I finish, rains will permanently be my solace, my existence.

Sun, will you shine for me some day?

Sultry Vancouver

Here in Vancouver, any temperature above 20 degrees C seems to cause its residents a sweltering discomfort. We are perturbed by the elevated temperatures. We are disquieted, by the disorder the heat creates.

Drive, and you encounter profanity, rage, and speeding annoyances railing about their discomfiture; these course, brash, insolent people are peevish, affecting my hope for august tranquility. Perhaps I attempt this stability prematurely.

Brash as the public heat-sufferers become, this is no match for the intensity of turmoil that my actuating forces endure. Platitudes of misunderstandings dominate my intellect; emotions are vanquished, being consumed by the consequence of a choice where my best interests were not considered... by me.

Evening is lovely. Renewed vigor seems as close as the fan blowing at my calves.