Monday, November 26, 2012
Persistence and resistence
Philosophy is a real thing:
“While we believe that the quarry would have brought significant economic benefit to Melancthon Township and served Ontario’s well-documented need for aggregate, we acknowledge that the application does not have sufficient support from the community and government to justify proceeding with the approval process,” said John Scherer of The Highland Companies in a press release.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
"shake it like a polaroid picture"
The good folks at Heavy Weather just sent this EONS video to Matt. He just passed it along to me. We've been anticipating its arrival since it was filmed at Sappyfest, and I believe his exact words to me via e-mail were, "Here it is, Sugar Ass." Band nick names, eh? After I post this, I'm going to return to "Thanks a mil, Angel Dick" in my drafts.
Matt starts EONS recording tomorrow, which makes this appearance in his inbox extra bold. Enjoy!
Eons - River Rock from HEAVYWEATHER on Vimeo.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Our place or ours?
Tonight is the launch in Toronto. I'm excited and nervous. Not as nervous as I would be if I was staying home and watching the vice presidential debate, but definitely more excited. Last night, I asked myself, "Why do I feel so relaxed about plans for tomorrow?" The answer came quickly: "Because Matt Cully has taken care of everything, ya princess." My pals! Their love is a magic, limitless gift certificate to Rona. I think I could actually build a house with it.
Tonight! Come oh-verrr!
Sunday, September 30, 2012
it's never money in my pocket
Found notes (on “falling in love”):
“Like blood coming back into your foot after its been asleep”
“Like a droopy piece of celery in a glass of cold water”
“Like getting in the ring with someone whose kicked your ass
a bunch of times”
“Like a birth and a death, simultaneously, on opposites sides of the world”
Found notes (on “rehabilitation”):
“Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, with a sense that he was
different from the rest. All the king's horses and all the king's men cannot put
him back together again because they don’t relate to his design. It isn’t
formulaic. They don’t know that his desire, every time, is activated by the
fall...”
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Review in The Coast
Thanks to Andrew Patterson for this thoughtful review: http://www.thecoast.ca/halifax/music-for-uninvited-guests/Content?oid=3331357
Learning how to read...
Performance of "Leading Man" at Wakefest, to a room of near-and-dears; filmed and posted by Chrissy Shannon:
Monday, August 27, 2012
Wakefield
Thanks again to festival organizers, Alasdair and Elizabeth Gillis for an amazing time at Wakefest. Bruce played at the Black Sheep Inn with Shannon Ross and Matt Ouimet, to a generous and genuine crowd that kept the music going. Other highlights for me included introductions to the work of author, Terrence Rundle West ("It's about history, that's all. History...") and photographer Franziska Heinze ("It's a good thing we have so much drama here in Wakefield..."), and swimming naked in the Gatineau River with best friends and solid strangers. A truly dynamite summer send-off.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Happy Birthday, MB... this one's for you.
BP had a great couple days at the OTHERfolk festival, playing
at the Roxy Theatre with Elliot Brood, First Rate People and Mary Cassidy. Thanks
again to Josh and Aly for having us down, and to the festival volunteers for making
us feel at home.
Before leaving Owen
Sound, Kari Peddle, Neil Haverty and I made a short
two-part video at the Days Inn. I know that sounds like a racy disclaimer (“the
night we turned into that kind of
band”), but get your mind out of the gutter and just go have a look.
Linda Blair, you look fabulous—PART ONE
Linda Blair, you look fabulous—PART TWO
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
book on screen.
For those of you who want to read your copy of Music for Uninvited Guests in print and on screen simultaneously, the pdf download is ready when you are. I'm looking at you, Ma. xo
Monday, August 13, 2012
file name "blog violence"
The
conversation was about scary movies: who likes them, who doesn’t. I used to
like scary movies, but I watch them less and less. The older I get, the more I
catch myself welling up at nonsense commercials and wincing at scenes of
graphic violence.
I like
scaring myself, though. I used to feel secretive about it—the periodic desire
to dwell on dark fantasies—but the older I get, the more I see the possible benefit
of it (when done in moderation).
Sometimes
I let my thoughts travel very far, through the woods, up the mountain, until
they come to a precipice. It is at this edge where the preciousness of life
feels so real to me, that I become afraid. So afraid that if I could grow roots
and plant myself, I most certainly would. And I would never ever leave, never
ever go anywhere, and people could come to me if they wanted, just like the
birds go to the branches. My thoughts can go farther now than
they could go even as little as a year ago. Reflecting on past excursions leads me to believe that
this precipice is a moving line.
I
asked myself once, realizing I was in control of all these thoughts: Why do I
choose to scare myself sometimes? Why do I bring myself to that place in my
mind? Some people jump into the lake at night even though they’re afraid of not
knowing where the bottom is. Or slip into lucid dreams to induce the experience
of flying—even though one time, a pair of hands came out of the darkness, and
they woke up on the verge of being yanked into nothingness. Why do they do it?
For me, it’s a strange clarity that hints at an almost unreachable idea of fear
being like a friend. Not the kind of fear that conquers you, but the kind that
you can simply count on being there. The kind of fear that has a willingness to
know who you are that maybe even exceeds your own willingness to know yourself.
A bizarre mechanism of self-acceptance, even more bizarrely gift-wrapped in
something that scares the living shit out of you.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Bruce Peninsula just returned from a magical Sappyfest 7: Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. Just two weeks before that, we were at the Dawson City Music Festival, feeling similarly enchanted on the other side of the country. Thank you Paul Henderson, Jon Claytor and Jenna Roebuck, for being masters in the art of bringing people together. Thanks for winding your heads up tight so the rest of us can go responsibly wild for a few days.
Music for Uninvited Guests premiered at Sappy, probably the most safe and loving book launchpad a writer could ask for. If you're reading it, I hope you're enjoying it in your own way. I can assure you there are at least five good lines in there--which, for a first book, would be totally dynamite.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Alex Durlak at Standard Form sent me an e-mail while Bruce Peninsula was in Dawson City, subject heading YOUR BOOK. It was a picture of the uncut pages on skid. Neil just sent me a similar e-mail, subject heading ALMOST. It was a video that starts with pages being slid into a binding machine (like a little kid being dipped underwater for the first time) and ends with a finished copy of Music for Uninvited Guests popping out the other end.
I feel flattered by these thoughtful updates, which take time to make and send. I also appreciate the glimpse into the other side of the book making process. It’s like they’re keeping me in suspense about a movie I’ve seen a hundred times.
Wednesday is pick up day. I told Jacob, who edited and designed the book, that I was equally excited and nervous to “see the real thing.” He said he was nervous too, but also told me not to worry. “Let’s just do this, and then do something else.” Good advice, Jacob—especially considering what a luxury it is to have such worries!
Monday, July 16, 2012
“Don’t wait to be inspired,” my grade nine English
teacher wrote on the green chalk board of room 136. “Impulse, not inspiration,
is what makes a writer write.”
THREE PRE-IMPULSES
One.
My seven-year-old niece: I love
butterflies. I watch them. Even the monarchs are so beautiful.
Me: I think so too. And you know what I can’t
get over? How a butterfly starts out as a caterpillar.
Niece: And moths...
Me: Moths, too?
Niece: Moths start out as itch worms.
Me: What’s an itch worm?
Niece: An itch worm... is a little worm...
where if it bites you... then it’s itchy for the rest of your life.
Me: Whoa. I never heard of an itch worm
before. Where did you learn about them?
Niece: I learned it from myself when I was
a baby.
Two:
My stepdad: Let’s heat up some of those... oh, what the hell are they. Spinach pies.
Me: Spanikopitas?
Stepdad: That’s it. Spaniko-pitas. I was confusing
them with those other things.
Me: Which ones?
Stepdad: I knew you were going to ask me
that. Shit, I’m trying to remember. Pause.
What are those little triangles that come from the east?
Me: Samosas?
Stepdad: Samosas! Fuck, are they ever good.
Three:
Walking past my aunt while she’s watching
TV.
My aunt: That was weird.
Me: What?
Aunt: Plants have ESP.
Me: Really?
Aunt: That’s what “Weird or What”
says.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Post one
I’d like to dedicate my first blog post to Neil Haverty, the creator of this website. Without Neil, I would have zero online presence—even though, at one point in my life, I thought I would become a great technological innovator.
As a kid, I was really into taking stuff apart, seeing the insides of things--and one day, when I was maybe eight or nine, I decided I was going to turn a lamp into a computer. I unplugged it, took off the shade, unscrewed the light bulb… and then let it sit there like that until my mother put it back in the family room. 22 years later, I got a gmail account.
And that’s it, Neil. That’s all I’ve done.
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