Finally able to unveil them. I’m completely thrilled.
You never know what you’re going to find if you go out your front door. Just outside was an Amazon package.
I checked the address to make sure it had been delivered to the right place. It had. It’s the day before my birthday. What the heck was this?
Opening it up revealed a lot of those pillowy packing things, but I’m still not sure what’s inside.
OMG, it’s a pad of sexy high-class drawing paper!
Mr. Boggedy has to check the box, for security and cat reasons.
It took me a long time to get the plastic bag off.
Turned out it was a birthday thing from my old pal, Todd Kealey, in Ottawa! Wow. Thanks Todd!
Posting various sketches I’ve been doing. Mainly to do with the new “Star Wars” movie, which I finally saw, and “Emma” by Jane Austen.
Star Wars had some pleasant new characters, but it was basically a rehash of the same old plot. I mean where did they find the time and materials to build a totally new planet-sized space station between this and the last movie? In Montreal, it takes years just to repair a road.
I should be watercolouring more, since this is the season when people buy things, and I need the money, but have found it very tough to get inspired. Doing these things with the watercolour pencils is helping me get inspired. Plus, this woman’s voice in her youtube tutorials is very soothing.
My nice neighbour Sylvie is trying to coax a little declawed cat out from under a front porch around the corner. Unfortunately, she’s doing this by rapping with spoon on a closed can of cat food.
I think she’d do better with opening the can, leaving it a little distance away from the gap under the porch, and waiting quietly for the creature to come out. Mr. Boggedy was stuck under a back yard terrace when he was a young and stupider cat, and he only came out after dark.
I shovelled my own and the neighbour’s steps. There’s a nasty layer of ice under the snow, which was hard to get off.
Meanwhile, there are a lot of bikes chained to posts. Some of them falling over. I’m afraid they’re going to be turned into twisted scrap metal when the little snowplow tanks come whizzing by.
Finished the book BOO by Neil Smith. It’s a bittersweet fantasy story about childhood, getting over pain, and forgiveness.
A little boy wakes up in the afterlife, a mysterious place where everyone is the same age as he is. The tone is gentle; for me it’s an improvement over Smith’s book of short stories BANG CRUNCH, which seemed show-offy and brassy.
The thing about BOO is that it really captures the feeling of what it must be like to be a shy, outsiderish, brainy boy with hidden aches. The book explores the rules of this “heaven,” Boo’s relationships with those around him, and his quest to be at peace.
I have a middle-aged neighbor named Michel, who lives across the way here on rue de Rouen. Yesterday afternoon, when I was lugging my bike down my front stairs, he beckoned to me, and crossed the street, wanting to talk.
I was headed off to Expozine, the November book, comics and alternative art fair. But he had a question for me.
Since I spoke English, I must know something about Leonard Cohen, the poet and songwriter who had recently died, right? Then what did these lyrics mean? With a little fiddling, he brought them up for me on his smart phone.
“But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya”
(You have to imagine this conversation in his French, with a little English, and my very bad French.)
So, what was happening here, he asked. Love is positive, right? So why was someone in love shooting his lover? And what did “outdrew ya” mean?
With expressive hand gestures, I conjured duels to the death, and scenes from cowboy movies. “Draw” meant pull your gun. “Outdrew” meant you pulled your gun and shot faster than the other person.
He looked puzzled. How did love involve shooting? I came up with the image of Cupid’s arrow. The biggest hurdle was to explain how love wasn’t always a totally positive situation. A relationship can involve conflict.
I think he understood. He slapped me on the back, and thanked me for making things clear. I was glad I was able to do that. Talking together, we were waving hands around, and practically shouting. I wondered what the neighbours thought.
Coming back from Expozine, the November book and alternative art fair, I thought I’d take a detour and visit Leonard Cohen’s house at the corner of Boulevard Saint Laurent and rue Marie Anne in Montreal. My friend used to have an apartment around the corner, so I knew this place well. Never saw Mr. Cohen, however.
This was 5:30 pm. November 13. From my point of view, the place smelt strongly of strawberry licorice. Probably an offering.
I had played an album of his earlier work when my Dad was sick, and now it reminds me of that time. Hard to play it any more, but I like his later tune, Tower of Song.
This is a quilt of Cohen memorabilia and testimonials hung up at the site.