bilbored
One of my exercises is to get up a half an hour early and write 3 pages longhand, stream of consciousness stuff first thing in the morning. Alright so it is really third thing I pee first then feed the very insistent cats who are thrilled at getting their breakfast sooner then usual. The importance of first thing writing is to unlock the unconscious mind and drag up the demons before you become engaged in your day to day activities. The genius of three pages is the first page is a good old moan about the weather your physical aches and pains, the undone house painting etcetera, and then suddenly your sub conscious leaks out a hint of substance before you reach the end of the exercise.
Today I was contemplating on how through all the grief counselling and various professional advice I had taken over the past while, never once was the subject of sex and the loss of intimacy ever discussed. It was not avoided it just was not addressed. I have always had a healthy obsession with sex and this is the longest time in my life that I have gone without either sex and or intimacy. Needless to say it is a major block for me at the moment so it is no surprise that frustration bubbles easily to the surface. What was a surprise today was to have an idea of a connection to the belief in God the creator as a source of inspiration working through man the artist, that was not only spiritual but also sexual in nature. Heavy stuff at 06:00h. It went further. I have spent the last thirty years doubting the existence of God. I have fond memories of Church and organised religion and found the lessons learned as a child to be essential building blocks for me. It was only in the later teen years when the church rejected me for what it believed to be my sin i.e. my sexual orientation that I began to question the existence of God. How could and how can God allow so many organised religions to practise such intolerance in his name? And so in-consistent with the core teachings of the Christian gospels, centred around “Jesus is love”.
As I thought about all of this while writing those 3 pages today I wondered if my loss of faith was a part of my block as a creative individual. I returned to the idea of God and sexual fulfillment and was reminded at once of
The Ecstasy of Saint Therese as portrayed by Bernini and the very obvious sexual fulfillment in her mystical experience with God. And indeed also Bernini’s as an artist.
Last week I had another e-mail from one of those repent your wicked ways religious nutters who never seem to have to courage to leave either their name or a valid return path to the source of their intolerance. I thought about that intolerance and my own questions of faith; and how for the most part I have not dealt with the constant grinding away of my faith by disillusionment, from fighting the intolerance of others and wonder if the price I have paid has been a disconnect with God the creator as a source of inspiration and fulfillment not only as an artist but also as an individual….Bill
Tomorrow begins the invasion of our town with the First Ministers conference as the 10 provincial and 3 territorial leaders along with the barest minimum of bureaucrats(about 400) arrive with all of the national media, police protection and assorted hangers on and protesters that these events attract. The town has been a beehive of activity as flags, signs and various other civic improvements have popped up around town, over the last few days. Our union is providing some additional labour to the audio visual companies contracted to work the conference and we will be paid quite lavishly for some not very difficult or challenging work. We are also being paid what is basically ‘under the table’ Now what kind of example is that? I ask. The government cheating itself out of tax revenue….Bill
I have started to work through
Julia Cameron’s 12 week course, the Artist’s Way, A spiritual path to higher creativity. It is a self help course in discovering and recovering your creative self.
This is stage three in my plan for personal recovery of my self. For those of you who have been reading for a while you will know, stage one is this blog and stage two was my decision to leave my regular position at the Shaw Festival and take the time to evaluate the changes that life has sent in my direction. I have looked at many demons in the past few months, most of which I have not shared here, although many have leaked on to these pages with both conscious and unconsciously and that is perfectly fine.
The support through my blog has been an important step for me including the serendipity of meeting other bloggers and two bloggers in particular have been more valuable then they might realize.
Having said that Julia Cameron’s course has made additional demands on my time which I willingly accept. I have decided to enter a period of erratic posting on my blog. The next 4 weeks the posts will come and go on no fixed schedule meaning I will post when the whim strikes and time allows as apposed to my usual almost daily post. I do plan to visit all my usual haunts though as regularly as ever….Bill
One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.
Andre Gide
It has been a busy week for work, adding the last two shows in to the festival season including the insanity of cramming a full musical complete with orchestra onto the tiny thrust stage at the Courthouse Theatre, which will I expect from what I have seen of the “Floyd” rehearsals prove to be the surprise hit of the festival season. Not that, that will be very difficult to do this year with the generally lack lustre reviews we have had so far. “Nothing Sacred” is the Canadian offering on the Festival stage this year. I don’t know much about it yet except that it does have a very interesting set based on the works of Russian artist
Wassily Kandinsky.
Speeding down the Niagara River recreation trail I slow down as I always do to cross the wooden decked bridges which are equally hard on my boys as they are on my bicycle tyres. Half way across the bridge I am passed by Mr. Geared up to be in The Tour de France guy, on his equally glitzy bike. Nice legs I thought as he rattled by, over the bridge planking. Now I may look like I had just left work (which I had) but I am a serious cyclist and my bike might look rough but it runs well. Needless to say I soon caught up to Mr. Tour de France and much to his astonishment I passed him and remained ahead of him until the next bridge (I value my boys too much, to not stand and coast over the bridges) with a sneered look from him he sped by again. I’m thinking I have passed him once I can do it again. He is a fast rider but so am I, and so with visions of his nice legs and tight butt in my head I put on the speed. In a few more minutes much to his horror I ring my bell and slip by him, deciding in my mind that if I can make it first to the Mc Farlane house picnic area then the race would be mine. I heard his angry gears changing behind me and knew that he was ready to race. I know the path well and I knew the picnic area was only another ½ km. away and was mostly down hill so I poured it on and hoped there would not be to many other cyclists to pass. Breathing hard but not yet winded I gave it my all and despite his pro looking gear I entered the picnic area first and immediately slowed down for there were many others on the path as I knew there would be. As I manoeuvred around a Mom and her baby carriage. Mr. Tour de France pass’s by on the grass this time with out looking at me. He takes the trail to left whist I stop for a rest and a drink of water at the picnic pavilion. The yellow jersey is mine today….Bill
**
In the shade it is 30 degrees.
A three tee-shirt day.
In every corner of the house it creeps.
Under the ceiling fan the cat sleeps.
Blessed summer heat.
….Bill
In 1969 35 years ago I had just returned from Summer Camp. Camp Kee-mo kee was the scout camp I attended for a few years before graduating to the much more attractive Camp Queen Elizabeth run by the YMCA in the Muskokas on a real live ‘Indian’ reservation.
I was 10 years old and summer was very much an endless adventure. I remember that hot July evening very clearly, we had a cold supper at the picnic table in the back yard and then I was sent off to play on my bike for a couple more hours with my friends Matt and Doug. There was the usual reminder to come home when the street lights came on. But that night as we rode our bikes, now magically converted into space ships none of us needed any reminder to get home on time for we all knew that the Eagle was landing and we were anxiously awaiting for the live broadcast on
CBS of the next chapter in that magnificent journey called Apollo XI. When I got home my Dad had moved the portable Zenith TV from the den out to the veranda and my mother was busy arranging chairs for the family and neighbours who were going to join us for this special moment in history on that sweltering July 20th evening. I remember buzzing around on the veranda as excited about the fireflies in the front garden, which were now like the stars in the heavens brought to earth, as I was about watching our TV outside. Overhead in the hazy night sky we could see the moon the real star of this evening. I did not know much about the Cold war but I knew lots about the space race. Tonight was the moment we all had been waiting for and with one eye on the moon and the other on the TV we watched Neil Armstrong step off the lunar landing module and utter those now famous words "It's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." As a boy I knew the space race had just been won but more importantly to me though was the grand adventure of it all on that summer night of glorious youth when all was possible….Bill
I suppose I should write something, but the truth is nothing unusual has happened to write about. The sun did come out today long enough for the grass to dry out (that was unusual) and I like everyone else was out madly trying to get their lawns cut before the predicted rain again tonight started. No painting got done but the weeds got pulled the shopping was done along with the laundry and the housework. I did some visiting with a few friends and helped out a neighbour to move some appliances. Gossip over the fence, fixed the flat tyre on my bike, swept out the green house and did a bit of repotting all between rain showers. I got the mail and paid the house taxes, watched some TV and for the second time this July lit a fire in the fire place to chase off the cool damp of the evenings from all this rain. So there you have a perfectly dull ordinary weekend. Millions would trade places for such an ordinary weekend, I am sure, of stultifying peace….Bill
This fucking rain is so bad for my moral it has completely undone all the good of today’s retail therapy. I am just about ready to buy a plane ticket to
here. Where there is a seedy hotel that I am fond of in the colonial centro near the harbour and all those randy Navel Cadets….Bill
I first encountered
Diego Rivera’s murals at the Detroit Institute for the Arts in the early eighties. I was intrigued by his work instantly. Over the past twenty years I have had the privilege of visiting the museums, house’s and public buildings in Mexico where much of Diego’s works are installed. My favourites are located at the Secretaria de Educacions Publica in Centro Mexico city. I prefer these over the more well known series that he painted at the Presidential Palace on the Zocalo. I think it is perhaps the Arte Deco influence that I find most appealing along with his socialismo themes. This is more widely prevalent as a group in the murals at SEP then perhaps anywhere else.
All through my pilgrimages to Diego,
Images of Frida Kahlo kept popping up. I knew who she was and I knew she was a painter in her own right. I had not paid much attention to her as an artist and had dismissed her as one of those icky feminist painters whose preoccupation with all things female just made me go Ewww. Much the way I still feel about Georgia O’Keefe’s work today. In my quest to learn evermore about the strongly masculine work of Diego’s, Frida’s paintings kept insinuating themselves on me. I at first was able to acknowledge her technical skill but could never understand what I thought to be her surrealist themes always a problem for me with my pragmatic nature.
I began to learn about
Frida Kahlo the person. The life of Frida was not a happy one, first ravaged by Polio and then as a young student she was in a horrific traffic accident which she should not have survived. She suffered her entire life from that accident. Her marriage to Diego was tempestuous at best. She had affairs, like Diego, they were both ardent communists and lived the life of comfortable bohemia. As I began to understand that Frida’s works were not overly surreal or feminist or earth mother new age as later groups tried to reinvent her to be. But rather, inspiration came from her near constant physical pain and suffering and her great love for Diego. My understanding of her works began to coalesce.
When Mike became sick with cancer and we knew the outcome was terminal for him we were in Mexico on his penultimate visit, at the Casa Azul in Coyoacan, Frida’s home and now a gallery and shrine to her life. The cancer had already begun to take its toll on Michael he was in pain constantly, our love for each other was the strongest it had ever been. We looked at and talked about the art, all the while knowing that our own relationship was coming to an end and just as surely we both understood that Mike would experience some of that terrible pain that Frida had lived her whole life with. To understand Frida was the last lesson in Art history that Michael had given me. Indirect though it was. The life of Frida and Diego was, in a way a mirror to our own relationship and in that house where Frida died so did I understand the nature of my relationship with Michael, just as we were beginning to come to grips with his death.
I mention this now because this week was the 50th anniversary of Frida’s death. Her Art and her life were extraordinary. She held a significant place in the modern art movement during the early half of the last century. Yet she is not well known. Her works are difficult and dense, if you do not understand her life, fortunately that is easy to do today
Hayden Herrera’s excellent biography is a fascinating telling of Frida’s life and almost as good, is the
Julie Taymor biopic, Frida. I can recommend both. Frida's art is worth the effort….Bill
Today the supreme court in Yukon territory struck down the ban against same sex marriage. The Yukon now becomes the first territory and joins the three most populace provinces in allowing same sex marriage. This Saturday when litigants Stephene Dunbar and Rob Edge marry, as they plan there will be one other unique feature. It will be the most northerly jurisdiction in the world to allow equal marriage. It just might bring a whole new dimension to all those Alaskan cruises out of Vancouver, with their quick side trips back into to Canada.
To day is Bastille Day:
Vive La France!
In the ongoing and shame full display of politics the bizarre and desperate attempt by the US government to stop same sex marriage, with a constitutional amendment failed today but only narrowly. It is particularly sordid that some US lawmakers are only all to willing to trample a citizens individual rights for partisan political gain.
I am reminded of the reasons for Bastille day today. “On July 14, 1789, the storming of the Bastille immediately took on a great historical dimension; it was proof that power no longer resided in the King as God's representative, but in the people, in accordance with the theories developed by their philosophers in the eighteenth century.” Those same philosophers who created the underlining principles of all our modern western democracies today. During the age of Enlightenment.
I wonder as Stephene and Rob prepare for their wedding this weekend if they understand more so then others, that it was they today who upheld the principles of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity, or, Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, and, Peace, Order and Good government.
Congratulations,Steve and Rob ….Bill
******
Desire……………….. Totally and completely consumed by it. When I wake in the morning. When I fall asleep at night you are there with me.
Desire, all encompassing ever pervasive,
Desire, a steady stream of consciousness of you. When I make the coffee, or have that first morning pee, feeding the cats, or in the shower,
Desire. Whilst on my bike in a busy traffic stream, always there, relentless, You, You and You too,
Desire. Up in the air or down on the ground. Still the same;
Desire. Tuesday to Tuesday each time I see you.
I Desire. The same every day, each week from month to month. There behind every thing I do,
Desire. Make the bed, fold the clothes, wash the dishes another day, each day the same,
Desire, and
desire for change…. Bill
There is something unfulfilling about starting to work on a job, that after 4 hours of hard sweaty labour it looks worst then when you started. Yes I have finally started to scrape the house and prepare for painting. This morning thunder storms threatened but fortunately did not materialize. I got a late start today after working until midnight on the
‘Floyd’ focus at the Courthouse Theatre. Which was a pleasure after the agonizing calls we had, to hang the lights, early this week. Including me loosing my patience with one unqualified supervisor on Friday night much to the horror and delight of other work colleagues. I did not feel any better for it though. I do feel better for three days now, of warm weather free of rain. It just might finally be Summer at last and on that thought I am going out to dead head the roses and water the pots….Bill
Today I did the laundry, the shopping and some gardening. I rode my bike to St. Catharine’s in the blistering heat and I saw a classic car show, poked around my favourite bookshop where with the greatest of discipline bought only 3 books. I also got cruised big time in Starbucks, nobody told me Saturday afternoon is Gay Dayze there. I was also checked out by a young French marine Officer while he was still on board a small luxury Cruise Ship. I was on my bike waiting for the Carlton street lift bridge over the Welland canal while his Ship was entering the locks. Hey Sailor wanna ride my bike! He smiled. When I got home I made my self a Chinese stir-fry for dinner, did the watering in the garden and walked out for bread and milk in the cool twilight, and now sitting at my computer I lament a full, productive and not un interesting day. Why? Nobody, to share the day with….Bill
To the person who asked….
When I am not thinking about you Night And Day. I might be thinking about this sort of thing from the Globe …”Kant's ideas on knowledge. Kant did not believe that knowledge came from experience, but from pure, synthetic a priori cognitions. In themselves, experiences can never explain the totality of knowledge and reason.
As many philosophers have believed that the existence of God can be logically deduced, so, too, can the belief that God can be neither proved nor disproved. If one is to believe in an omnipotent and infinite being, then one must not discount the possibility that nothing is as it seems. Such a being would necessarily have the ability to deceive finite beings about the truth of reality. The simplest things, such as arithmetic, may not be true for reasons we can never possibly comprehend.”
Or Maybe this, Thought du Jour, “I have always thought of sophistication as a rather feeble substitute for decadence.” Both would be a nice change just now, from working and trying not to fall out of the Courthouse grid at the same time, for 9 hours today.
And all of that is just 4 more reasons why I think porn is good….Bill
Bicycling home from Virgil today I took a more rural route so as to avoid the construction on highway 55, it is not my favourite route but it is the shortest one. That road is a peril to cyclists. It was heartening to learn from one our alderman at the post office today that an announcement will be forthcoming about the long awaited bike path that is to parallel this road. It can only mean that an agreement has finally been reached with the greedy but powerful business’ that have been in opposition to giving up their use of public land, that they have freely enjoyed for so many years. And the damm path will finally get built.
There are many fields, orchards and vineyards within the urban limits of our town. Most of the roads are paved and the residential population in the rural areas exceed that of the 4 villages that make up Niagara-On-the Lake, which is itself surrounded by the cities of Niagara Falls and St. Catharine’s side by each and the imposing Niagara escarpment to the south. Gentile and prosperous it is. Having said that, I notice a remarkable similarity between our towns rural areas and the farming areas between Puebla and Tlaxcala. The Valle de Puebla in the Mexican alti plano, just east of Mexico city is blessed in the winter with hot days and cool nights much like our summers. The area is intensely cultivated and also highly populated as is our area. What is also similar, most of our farms heavily employ migrant workers from Mexico and the Caribbean. Theirs are the most common faces to be seen in the fields and byways. They move around on bikes and in colectivo’s. Taxi vans, with no doors and narrow benches for seats, are a common feature both here and in Mexico. On a hot day when I bike through the flat paved rural roads in the nearly treeless countryside, I am almost in Mexico. A few well placed Cacti and the occasional Catholic church or pre Columbian ruin or two and the picture would be complete. I doubt the field hands would share my bucolic vision and rather again, see just another rich gringo on a lark while they slave away in the dusty fields…Bill
***
A red balloon
Escapes its master.
Oh what joy!
....Bill
I was going to start scraping the paint on the outside of the house today. But I did not. I instead reworked several hours of last nights writing before throwing it all out. After the rain, friends came, and in the humid hour before noon we found lilies newly opened in the garden. And then more rain. I watched some porn then had a nap, I listened to Mozart while again more rain. Tonight 5 hours in my riggers harness working until midnight hanging lights, and yes more rain.
It rains in my heart
As it rains on the town:
What is this languorous ache
That wounds my heart?
Gentle, the sound of rain
Battering roof and ground.
How sweet the sound of rain
For the heart in pain!
Paul Verlaine – Tr. Manu Bazzano
….Bill
I just love something for free. Thank you
Patrick for pointing me towards a free and easy photo web host. Go visit him today he needs cheering up. I contacted blogger and all they are doing is promoting their “Hello” thingy which I found was unduly complicated for any one over the age of 16 and born before computers were anything more than a military secret.
I have added two items to my sidebar; 1) an OK but not fab picture of me. 2) a link to site in support of The
CBC. During the last election some politicians were engaging in their favourite sport CBC bashing. Now with a minority government it will be easier then ever for the politico’s to ignore the CBC more so then usual. If you believe in a strong CBC please follow the links and sign the petition to encourage support for the CBC. It is easy.
Here are a few photos from my *NEW* Better Homo & Garden collection:
Orchids Resting in the Green house
In the Green house Cactus’
"Arty" Tool shed
Me and my huge Heraculeum -?
Another without me
Here I am again
….Bill
It is an ideal summer day 27C, 82% humidity perfect weather for me and it stayed that way until 17:30 when a big old fashion thunder storm arrived with heavy rains and lightning bright enough to cut through the daylight with plenty of load rolling thunder mixed in with those jump off the floor crashes that sent the cats to their safe places. Only a cat would know why the top of the fireplace is the safest place in the house. Go figure.
Jazz FM does a weekly big band show that is a constant favourite of mine it starts at 17:00h and runs until 22:00h. Tonight in honour of the release of De-Lovely, (Which is sadly getting mixed reviews, except for the music. Which is great.) they are doing all Cole Porter music needless to say I am delighted several hours of Cole Porter played by a huge variety of musicians and singers. So happy am I, I don’t even mind the rain again. In fact if it was dark I would be outside naked in the back garden enjoying the refreshing down pour.
My prime goal today was to get the cactus’ staged in the green house and cut back the
bougainvillea. I was nearly done when my friend with the digital camera promptly! arrived (Thanks Roddy) to take a few requested photos in and around the garden. Since this is a cheap free blog I can’t post photos here. I will investigate one of those freebie photo sites ( some day ) in the mean time if you would like a photo of me and my huge Heracleum lanatum send me an e-mail and I will send it out. Let me know if you have high-speed and I will include a couple of other lovely garden / green house shots as well….Bill
I did three loads of laundry. I tidied up the shed a bit more. I went grocery shopping. I went to the hardware store to get the last of the supplies I need to paint the outside of the house. That should guarantee the end of the rain now that I am fishing for reasons to put that horrible job off. I also spent 4 hours baking in the green house while I gave it a through scrub down, now that it is practically empty for the summer. Tomorrow I will move my Cactus collection from the house for a 2 ½ month bake a thon while the orchids gently steam on the more shaded side under the
stephanotis vine climbing overhead. Now I just wanna have fun! So where is he!........ I will, just have to settle for a Rum drink after, I water the pots out in the drive. Fatigued…very fatigued….Bill
Our town is being invaded by holidaying Americans this weekend. I hardly saw a single Canadian license plate when I went down to the post office today. I don’t know, isn’t there some thing slightly un patriotic about fleeing you own country and going to a foreign country for
The July 4th Weekend, even if it is just Canada. Only a thought….Bill
This was an actual announcement over the load speaker system backstage at work today.
Ladies and Gentlemen: For
Man And Superman. This is Hell. Please standby for the top of Hell. Places Please, for Hell. Thank you.
Well yeah, WE ARE at work….Bill
Some days I am such a fag and I don’t even know it. The day started out butch enough. I got up put the coffee on (double espresso latte) then went back to my room and pulled on yesterdays boxers and a ratty old Tee shirt; so I could take my coffee outside to the patio table but still be comfortable. Unshaved unshowered and enjoying the morning warmth it is already 23C and only 09:00h. My neighbour comes over with his coffee after seeing his Dad off who had been visiting and we discuss our parents age related health problems. He is dressed just as tatty as I am,(well except at least he had pants on. Neither of us noticed that I did not, or at least pretended to not notice.) We talked about home renovations (paint colours) in that guy sort of way and a bit about our respective work places (Art ,Music, Theatre) etc. After he left I pulled on my jeans (501 button fly) put on my old safety shoes and cut the lawn (and transplanted some fashionable ornamental grasses) and worked up a good sweat. Before lunch and an hour to read in the garden. (Naked sun tanning being careful to turn every 15 mins. to tan evenly.) And then a well needed shower. (Plenty of product, glycerine soap, skin cleansers, aftershave balm, moisturizers etc.) After lunch, and time for a few domestic chores. (A little light dusting and a quick vacuum)
Now I Know this will be a shocking surprise but we had a thunder storm from 15:00h until about 16:00h. Then the sun (came out). It was the tinniest sounding thunder, something more like (an amateur opera society) then anything else with a few light showers. I had a nap while this side show went on.(Under a light, white Martha Stewart cotton throw.) After I had gotten dinner under way and I was in the middle of finishing some odd jobs (refreshing a floral arrangement). My friend Jo dropped in for a drink before she went to work. (( We discussed gardening and decorating for a whole hour!)) After she left I had dinner a cold roasted chicken sandwich (I roasted the chicken today myself) a salad (Catalina lite dressing) and to drink (Iced green jasmine tea) and for desert yogurt (low fat of course). All the while listening to (show tunes), while I ate (at a set table). I cleaned up the kitchen put the garbage out (and disinfected the pails again this week). I Had a visit with my neighbour across the street (did I mention he is a hottie) then I came in checked my E-mail ( YAY! Discount coupons, Just enter coupon code BANG at checkout... and watch your savings EXPLODE !, from the on-line porn store’s, 4 day, 4th of July Bang-a-Thon) And so another day done, I’ll try harder to be butch tomorrow at work….Bill
