place

The sea. Under the sun I can almost make them out. I call out to the pod of them, all lined up, then they dive. When, moments ago, we wandered the beach to the chalet, we were silent. The seals honk at us, "You are on our shore!". We don't leave. I turn around, you follow.

Cape Breton is the piney fresh air that an air freshener is not. Sea soaked sandpipers skitter for clams. The crunch and brown of forgotten gravel roads take you to ancient gravestones. Stone structures proud, tall, Scottish. The Island is your cousin you don't often see but when you do the times are laughable because you both 'get it'. Windy. Witty and charming.

We wander aimlessly along the beach. Our feet our solid, our breath even. We listen absently. Heads bob in the sea as they squawk, the waves lapping carefully upon the Eastern shore. I can hear their cries, out in the bay, along the backs of their bodies. And those that are not there are coming. The tortoise, the sunfish, expanding as it moves, like a balloon, gliding under water along the sharp edge of the surface. You slow down, clear your throat, stand erect, turn around. Yes, you whisper aloud, they are part of who we are, they are here.

Rice, Rice Baby!

The video part is what I get paid to do. Shoot, edit, upload...all in a day's work.

Click on the link below:

Rice, Rice Baby!

moments

96.3 FM is Toronto's New Classical. Their tagline: "Beautiful music in a crazy world". I've turned to this because I need more calm in my world. I am searching for balance. And I do enjoy classical music. It's lengthy saga of notes, pitter patter quickness, drawn out violin cries, concertos, arias and sonatas. Yo Yo Ma.

Then they play an Lexus ad.

Which spurs me to write this because all the ad says is: Moments. Moments. Something else. Moments. This is the moment for a Lexus. And another finishing sentence on how a Lexus will better your existence.

Life is a series of moments.
But most of them do not involve a Lexus.

They involve things like:

At a 50th anniversary during a retrospective video, you see the man reach around his wife's neck, embracing her as they watch images of their life on screen, he squeezes her shoulder, leans his head against hers. She leans back and runs a hand along his forearm, holding on.

Football movies that bring you to tears where the underdogs come out on top, winning the game because they tried real hard and it paid off.

Pink clouds.

Sarah Palin's voice on the radio that makes your skin crawl.

The shiver of shock that happens when you hear about the death of someone you know. The aftershocks and feelings of emptiness, helplessness, and quiet that follow. You rethink your life. We only get one shot. What are you doing? What is the point? What will you change? You rethink your death. Who will you leave behind? Are you afraid? We are fragile and small and weak.

Yoga breathing.

Watching a meteor shower. Getting perspective on our place in the solar system. Being overwhelmed by what that actually means.

Stroking your lover's hand, reassuring them everything will be okay.

"You either live in the past or you live in the future. Where is the moment?"
- Ricky Roma, Glengarry Glen Ross

Brockton Writer Series

Below is the first two paragraphs of what I'm reading next week at the Brockton Writer Series:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=logo#!/event.php?eid=145742252111513

Jane slides off the examining table and reaches for her underwear. The room is severe. All metal and white with its sharp edged seriousness. The used paper sheet lies crinkled and lifeless behind her. It smells like alcohol and old paint. Her stomach turns and she steadies herself with one hand on the counter. Playing doctor as a kid was silly and exaggerated. Far from this calculated, sensible reality. She takes her jeans off the chair. Routine. She shuts her eyes and squeezes. Lavender foam bath, a crackling log fire, freshly baked bread.

Outside, the nausea from before creeps up inside her like a lizard. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It’s been six months. They just wanted to be sure because the test results were irregular. Other things that are irregular; verbs, galaxies, geometrical shapes. On the sidewalk beside the busy street she stares at the traffic. The smell out here is worse than inside. A combination of diesel, garbage and panic.

the big picture

Four and a half hours North East of Toronto is a town called Calebogie. Winding roads lined with grey and rust coloured slate of the Canadian Shield, clean lakes, rivers full of bass. Also in Calebogie is a fancy racetrack at the Calebogie Motorsports Park where I was hired to shoot some video last week. If you've got eight thousand dollars to spare you can rent it for the day. Or for three hundred bucks you can get "the Mustang Experience" - a lesson on how to drive a stock car followed by a ride a on the track with a pro who will drive as fast as you can stomach it.

The pace of the town does not match that of the track. The general store just closed. Talk of the town. It was next to the LCBO so now you can get beer, but not water or milk. Locals say the woman who runs the pizza place is going to pick up the slack and start selling duct tape, toothbrushes and bottled water.

On my drive out there I picked up a curried chicken sandwich in Bancroft. I ate half of it in the loaner car the client provided while I checked my email. Half and hour later ate the rest of my lunch.

I pulled over at a boat launch where a guy in a wheelchair was casting a fishing line into the lake. He didn't notice me. I stood for a while and listened. The midday sun was high. A couple of cars passed over the bridge. Birds glided by, water rippled, a breeze swept through.

Being somewhere else helps to see the big picture. Being somewhere where there is no need to speak. No reason to discuss and analyze and question and debate and argue. No planning, guessing, dressing, worrying, pondering, wondering. No purpose to go fast or slow, to be on time or late or organized or funny or professional. No responsibilities to uphold, no people to impress, or disappoint or rely on.

Of course you do need to get back into it.

The guy in the wheelchair turned around when I started my engine.
He extended his arm out and waved in my direction.
I did the same.