Turn, turn, turn

I hope all of you,

are well and healthy,

and,

looking forward to some pleasant,

holiday plans.

My calendar is all booked up,

lots,

of fun and joyous times,

coming up.

I still have a few days,

of survey monkeying,

before a few days off,

for Christmas.

I have almost finished,

my shopping and prep,

there will quiet days,

for movie watching,

and,

reading and being with mom,

and,

there will be friend and family time,

should be nice.

Funny,

I have been thinking about,

going to midnight mass,

with mom,

on Christmas eve.

I can hear my atheist friends both dead and alive, screaming:-)

Fact is, I like churches,

I like the peace and calm,

the iconography,

the ritual,

I always have,

it isn’t a regular thing with me,

I am not a religious person,

but,

as many things in my life,

in the world,

I am not sure,

so I have been,

most of my life,

an agnostic.

I respect peoples faith.

I don’t like religion,

I think,

everyday and throughout history,

we see and have seen examples,

of the horror and small mindedness,

religion brings to the world,

and yet…

some of the best and kindest people,

I know are people of faith,

many are also not.

I will not be going to,

midnight mass,

looking for God,

I will go to commune,

with my fellow humans,

with my ancestors,

going to listen to the holy music,

watch the ritual.

I have been taking pictures,

of the chapel attached to the old convent,

near work,

I have taken them in all seasons,

with my camera,

with my phone.

The site is beautiful,

peaceful,

an oasis in a busy,

street,

city,

day,

strangely enough,

the site,

grounds me,

and gives me wings,

it calms me,

and,

fires my imagination.

I thought you all might enjoy some,

pics from every season,

to every season turn, turn turn.

Be well.

Later girls,

BB

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It’s coming on Christmas

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Winner GLBT category

It’s coming on Christmas,
They’re cutting down trees.
They’re putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace,
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on-River by Joni Mitchell

I think like many of you,

out there,

I have mixed feelings,

about Christmas.

I like it,

and,

I don’t.

I like the spirit of it,

I don’t like what that ‘spirit’,

has often,

come to mean,

and,

the time it lasts,

well,

it’s nuts.

I started listening to Christmas music, yesterday, the fifteenth of December, is more than early enough in my book.

I do like Christmas music,

the hoky and the spiritual,

the funny and the irreverent.

I like that I will be spending time,

with people I love,

my wonderful family and friends,

I miss,

the missing members of my family,

and of course,

a few friends,

who I have lost over the years.

Christmas is a time for rejoicing,

in what we have,

and,

remembering,

all that has made us,

who we are,

a time for reaching out to our fellow humans.

Of course,

I also think reaching out,

and,

having compassion for those less,

fortunate,

the lonely suffering people,

should not be restricted to Christmas,

but,

the social pressure,

the constant media barrage,

about Christmas,

can’t be pleasant or easy for those,

who have nothing and no-one.

And then there are those,

who have people,

but, don’t like those people.

Let us spend time with those we love,

not waste time with those,

who anger and make us feel bad,

about ourselves,

seek out those who bring us joy and warmth,

those we love,

if those people happen to fit,

the socially acceptable parameters of Christmas,

fine,

but,

if they don’t,

well they don’t,

be,

true to your heart.

Sure,

be kind and make an effort,

to alleviate loneliness,

spread some cheer and laughter,

but,

don’t allow yourself to develop,

an ulcer or feel chest pains,

because you want to throttle,

your mother,

your sister in law,

your uncle Morrie.

Spend time with friends,

volunteer in a soup kitchen,

don’t spend time with people you can’t stand,

it just isn’t good for you,

and,

this isn’t supposed to be hard,

it’s supposed to be joyful,

remember?

Of course,

even in loving families,

there are hard years,

there are fights and misunderstandings,

it happens,

but,

as long as you feel the love,

underneath,

you will ride through the bad years,

the difficult personalities,

life and even Christmas,

isn’t always about Hallmark moments.

Life is also about duty,

and,

not just a hedonistic whirl,

around the dance floor,

but,

toxic should be avoided,

at all cost,

that shit will kill you.

Don’t exhaust yourself,

don’t go into debt,

but,

share the work and the joy.

Christmas to me isn’t about,

the birth of Christ,

it is about what I was taught,

it was,

good will towards all,

and presents,

let’s not forget presents!!

Have a a very merry,

coming on Christmas,

you all.

Later girls,

BB

 

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Soon, the end of the year, a few changes are in order

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Winner GLBT category

I was reading Austin Kleon’s blog,

the other day,

I like Kleon,

he wrote two books,

that I read and very much enjoyed,

this year:

Steal Like An Artist and Share Your Work,

pleasant, easy, short, thought provoking books.

The blog entry,

was about how people spend December,

reflecting on the past year,

but,

December,

is a month to work and create,

too,

a month like any other.

I agree with him,

but,

since,

I am reflective and retrospective,

by nature.

I have made a few decisions,

in the last few weeks,

and,

they are part of ,

what I am calling,

in my mind at least:-)

the great end of year clean up.

It really won’t be,

that sweeping,

but,

I am implementing some,

changes.

I will spend less time on social media,

because contrary to some,

of my friends,

I don’t multi task well.

I will spend more time reading,

I have allowed myself,

this year,

to be distracted,

by things and people,

not all that,

worthy,

of my distraction.

So,

off goes,

the phone and the face book,

at least during the hours,

that I write and edit photographs.

I will spend time with people,

I want to spend time with,

who’s company I enjoy,

people who reciprocate,

people I have a real connection with,

because as a friend of mine says,

I am not Mother Teresa,

and trying to fill the chasm,

left by my anarchist,

is an impossibility.

I have a few,

precious friends,

I think they know who they are,

I also have many acquaintances,

people of like interests,

people who spending time with,

is,

enriching or fun.

Gone will be the dementors,

A Harry Potter reference, the guards around Azkhaban prison, they suck the soul and energy out of people who attempt to escape or enter, we all know and have dementors in our lives

life is too short,

for people,

who make time pass,

so,

slowly.

This might,

for some of you,

be in the category of,

Duh!!??

Not so for me,

I have,

my whole life,

been a magnet for truly odd,

people,

that’s fine,

I am not the most conventional sort,

myself,

but,

there is a difference,

between odd,

even argumentative,

people,

and,

soul suckers.

I like people who push me,

to think,

to reflect,

who challenge my complaisance,

and,

my,

‘who knows where they come from’

ideas,

but,

I cannot abide,

people who ‘evangelize’,

‘explain’ what is good for you,

tell you that your opinions,

are ignorant,

because they are not,

theirs.

To be clear, lots of ignorant opinions out there and we should all change our minds about countless things as we grow, learn. I am not closed minded, stubborn and argumentative, sometimes, sure, but, not closed minded.

Lack of respect and not taking responsibility,

for one’s actions and words,

blaming bad behaviour,

and inconsiderateness,

on problems or a hard life,

has it’s limits,

well,

for me,

it does.

So this end of the year,

more reading,

more writing,

photography.

No time for Dementors or Polly Annas,

if that sounds selfish or judgemental,

well…

Have a great one.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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December 6 Th 1989

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Winner GLBT category

Some dates,

are important,

for good reasons,

for warm fuzzy reasons,

anniversaries,

birthdays,

milestones,

in our lives,

happy memories.

Some dates live in infamy.

The next few days, a few of those, the Ides of December, to quote my friend,  Arlo.

December 6 Th 1989,

is one such date,

for me,

it is the day that,

14 women were murdered,

at the Ecole Polytechnique,

here in my hometown.

It is known as the,

Montreal massacre.

and tomorrow,

will mark the 25 Th ‘anniversary’

(:

A month before,

that fatal day,

I had been rejoicing-

the fall of the Berlin Wall,

all possibilities,

of a new ‘freer’ world,

lay,

ahead,

and then…

14 young women,

students in engineering

(one of the women was a secretary, another was a nursing student waiting for her husband, a student at the engineering school)

gunned down,

for being,

women,

for being feminists,

for taking the place of men.

Many people have said,

the gunman was mad,

it was an isolated case,

not really violence against women,

in a regular way,

that we shouldn’t equate this,

act of a madman,

with domestic violence,

sexual agression etc,

right,

so much easier to say,

that-

to blame insanity.

I have never spoken that,

scum’s name,

I never will,

he does not deserve,

a place,

in my memory bank,

nor the sound of my voice.

I chose to remember the women:

Geneviève Bergeron (born 1968), civil engineering student
Hélène Colgan (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Nathalie Croteau (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Barbara Daigneault (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Anne-Marie Edward (born 1968), chemical engineering student
Maud Haviernick (born 1960), materials engineering student
Maryse Laganière (born 1964), budget clerk in the École Polytechnique’s finance department
Maryse Leclair (born 1966), materials engineering student
Anne-Marie Lemay (born 1967), mechanical engineering student
Sonia Pelletier (born 1961), mechanical engineering student
Michèle Richard (born 1968), materials engineering student
Annie St-Arneault (born 1966), mechanical engineering student
Annie Turcotte (born 1969), materials engineering student
Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz (born 1958), nursing student

I wish I could say,

that things have changed,

in the last 25 years,

but,

I fear that isn’t,

true.

Women are still,

victims,

of violence,

of neglect,

of belittling,

of second class citizen status,

even,

in a country as modern,

and,

free,

as mine.

To many,

too many,

calling themselves feminists,

seems to equate man hatters,

I see women defending their love,

of men,

and stating the platitude,

that not all men are violent.

As an old high school friend of mine used to say, No shit Sherlock!!!

Here’s another,

case of stating the obvious:

not all white policemen, kill young black men,

but…

I wasn’t raised to think,

women were less,

I was raised to think,

people were people,

some,

good,

some,

not so much,

that it had very little to do,

with their,

genitalia,

preferences,

or race.

That what mattered was,

intelligence,

kindness,

family,

your word,

and getting things done.

Trust people,

but,

above all,

trust yourself,

your instincts and your bullshit detector,

don’t be a joiner,

but,

help,

those who need it.

I have always believed in live and let live,

but,

I now find that when,

people spout,

crap about feminism,

I want to scream-

READ,

look around,

what dream world do you live in???

But,

I don’t,

I try reasonably,

sometimes I fail at that part,

to say we do not live in a world of equality,

there is still a gender division,

a racial division,

a have and have not division,

that we can change that,

but,

only if we recognize that it exists,

and,

work together to stop,

the violence,

the hate,

and the belief in the system,

that perpetuates these ‘norms’.

We should all call ourselves,

feminists,

we should all scream,

that we can’t breathe,

and,

don’t shoot,

we should all have a right,

to safety,

shelter,

a living wage,

an education,

a better future,

we owe it to the victims of,

too many

Polytechniques,

too many,

Fergusons,

too many,

Gazas,

too many more scenes of carnage and hatred,

we owe it to our children,

to fight back,

to break this cycle,

to build a better world,

with the bridges,

of engineers…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Stevenson and his great ideas

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Winner LGBT category.

A bit of grey early December

 

DSC_2580

DSC_2597

First let me apologize for,

my recent silence,

it isn’t so much that,

I have been busy,

more like,

sick,

I have had my third cold,

in less than two months,

and,

Winter,

hasn’t even hit,

good times

:-)

Moving on.

I have read,

another of the books,

in the great ideas series,

by Penguin,

An Apology For Idlers,

by R.L Stevenson,

delightful small book (113 pages)

of essays,

on the power and importance,

of a certain idleness,

I need not be convinced of this:-P

advice on living the life of an artist,

an essay on how age,

does not necessarily bring,

wisdom,

and,

my personal fave from this collection,

On Falling In Love.

Delightful essays,

by a delightful writer,

full confession here:

I don’t believe,

I have ever read any Robert Louis Stevenson.

I might have been read,

Treasure Island,

as a child,

but,

I am not sure,

I remember fragments,

Long John Silver,

not much else.

This is quite an important,

oversight,

on my part,

Stevenson,

if I base myself,

on this book,

is a damn good writer,

I just remembered, I did read The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde, as a teenager.

So maybe,

I need to look into him,

more.

My Granny,

on my dad’s Scottish side of the family,

was a Stevenson,

Her grandfather,

father,

brother,

were all named Robert.

I seem to recall,

my granny has been gone since 1976,

her mentioning,

that R.L Stevenson was a cousin,

I like to think he was,

a famous writer cousin,

in the family tree,

yup,

sounds good.

Here is a sampling,

from,

On Falling In Love:

The simple accident of falling in love is as beneficial as it is astonishing. It arrests the petrifying influence of years, disproves cold-blooded and cynical conclusions, and awakens dormant sensibilities. Hitherto the man had found it a good policy to disbelieve the existence of any enjoyment which was out of his reach; and thus he turned his back upon the strong sunny parts of nature, and accustomed himself to look exclusively on what was common and dull. He accepted a prose ideal, let himself go blind of many sympathies by disuse…and now, all of a sudden, he is unhorsed, like St-Paul, from his infidel affectation. His heart, which has been ticking accurate seconds for the last year, gives a bound and begins to beat irregularly in his breast. It seems as if he had never heard or felt or seen until that moment; and by the report of memory of his memory, he must have lived his past life between sleep and waking, or with the preoccupied attention of a brown study-

page 29 An Apology For Idlers(On Falling In Love) Robert Louis Stevenson

Love gives your life,

wings,

texture,

falling in love,

gets your blood flowing,

and,

bathes the world in a rosy hue,

love is grand.

I am so far,

very much enjoying,

this great ideas reading,

food for thought,

and,

for dreams,

day dreams,

about my girl,

and,

how,

much better,

my,

life,

is,

since she came into it.

Have a wonderful day, you all.

Later girls,

BB

 

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thoughts on reading….

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category

I hope this grey November,

we are experiencing,

finds you all well,

and who knows,

perhaps your part of the world,

is not awash in grey.

Grey is a colour,

I am familiar with,

lots of grey in,

a city Winter,

I don’t relish it,

but,

I do know it.

I am in,

a very serious,

mood,

mode,

of late,

pensive,

not too social,

not anti-social,

but, more quiet like.

I have been reading,

Montaigne,

On Friendship,

just finished it,

I’m glad I read it,

I found that lots of it,

was,

right on.

I was equally put off,

by much of it,

Montaigne,

although a deep thinker,

is a man of his era,

women are pretty much,

silly ornamental play things,

not even close to being equals.

This bugs me,

as a woman,

it’s bugs me even more,

as a woman who has known,

deep friendship with men.

In order to enjoy,

and,

benefit from these books,

written by great thinkers,

hundreds of years ago,

one needs to push that aside,

that’s ok,

I’m used to it,

as a woman,

as a gay woman,

even more.

Change the genders,

ignore gender,

whatever,

it can be done.

I have often quoted Montaigne,

on friendship,

Because it was him: because it was me,

this describes so well,

the inexplicable chemistry of friendship,

in it’s mysteriousness,

it is much like romantic love.

Why two people,

can be perfect for each other,

‘on paper’

and,

have absolutely nothing,

to say to each other,

and in some cases,

actually feel repulsion,

and,

with others,

instant,

click.

Mysterious.

Friendship,

is a deep relationship,

not something light,

and frivolous,

although it may include fun,

mostly.

it is about dropping one’s masks,

trusting to be,

wholly,

yourself,

without fear of rejection,

judgement,

this is a rare occurrence,

some people,

I am certain of this,

never experience it,

perhaps it is a lack of luck,

or of,

putting their faith in unworthy people,

or an inability,

to open themselves up,

to another.

Perhaps, this too is mysterious.

Friendship,

while mutually beneficial,

is in and of itself,

giving,

not counting,

in order for it to be,

true, deep,

it must be surrounded by,

a leap of faith bubble,

absolute trust,

nothing can bring,

the level of joy,

that friendship can,

nothing can bring us,

greater pain,

when trust is broken.

Nothing.

We often use the word friend,

when what we mean is,

acquaintance,

colleague,

comrade,

even

Moreover what we normally call friends and friendship are no more than acquaintance and familiar relationships bound by some chance or suitability, by means of which our souls support each other.

he goes on to say:

In the friendship which I am talking about, souls are mingled and confounded in so universal a blending that they efface the seam which joins them together so that it cannot be found. If you press me to say why I loved him, I feel that it cannot be expressed except by replying: “Because it was him: because i was me.” Meditating this union there was, beyond all that I can say specifically about it, some inexplicable force of destiny-  Michel de Montaigne, On Friendship, Penguin Great Ideas, pages 9-10

beautiful, heartfelt,

but,

there is more,

All the arguments in the world have no power to dislodge me from the certainty which I have of the intentions and decisions of my friend. Not one of his actions could be set before me-no matter what it looked like-without my immediately discovering it’s motive. page 12

the friendship of Montaigne and La Boetie,

is a rare one,

most cannot count themselves as lucky.

The loss of his friend after only a few years,

makes it,

perhaps,

worse,

I merely drag wearily on. The very pleasures which are proffered me do not console me: they redouble my sorrow at his loss. In everything we were halves: I feel I am stealing his share from him- page 19

After I finished reading,

this small book,

I went through my bookshelves,

because I wanted more,

on friendship,

and I came upon,

a small book of essays by Emerson,

one of the essays,

is entitled,

simply,

Friendship.

Emerson is a dour old,

New Englander,

but,

his words are filled with truth.

I hate the prostitution of the name of friendship to signify modish and worldly alliances- Friendship, page 45 of Self-Reliance And Other Essays

Friendship is as important to Emerson as to Montaigne,

his view is not however of two souls in perfect harmony,

Friendship requires that rare and mean betwixt likeness and unlikeness, that piques each with the presence of power and of consent in the other party. Let me be alone to the end of the world, rather than that my friend should overstep, by a word or a look, his real sympathy. I am equally balked by antagonism and by compliance. Let him not cease for an instant to be himself …better be a nettle in the side of your friend than be his echo-page 47

The types of friendship,

Montaigne and Emerson,

experience,

are different,

but,

both are filled with love, respect, and genuine affection.

I have experienced both in my life,

both are nourishing,

satisfying,

both make life worth living.

These are my thoughts,

on the reading of these two great works.

They are worth the time,

the mental gymnastics required.

Just wanted to share with you all,

what sticks out,

for me,

after a first reading.

Great ideas,

a good choice,

for a grey November,

when there is time,

for reflection and grief processing.

Grief over lost friendship,

is a long process,

well,

it is for me.

I take time to digest things,

always been slow that way.

I imagine some,

of you,

maybe be thinking,

enough time has passed,

move on BB,

I get that,

I also get that people,

think,

and have even said,

not in a mean way,

that losing a friend,

can’t be compared to losing,

family.

At first,

this hurt me,

a little,

it felt a tad,

inconsiderate,

clueless,

but,

on reflection,

I feel,

that perhaps,

they have simply never experienced that,

level of friendship.

I am fortunate,

I have,

I do.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

 

 

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A ‘great ideas’ challenge to myself

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Winner GLBT category

Good morning you all.

I hope the sky,

wherever you are is less,

grey,

than here in the,

beautiful ugly,

ah November,

the dreaded one.

I have had a wonderful weekend,

time spent with precious friends,

work,

photography,

laughs,

entertainment and even,

a little shopping,

good weekend.

I mentioned a few months ago,

that I would be reading,

Montaigne,

a sort of a tribute to my anarchist,

Montaigne having such,

pertinent,

thoughts on friendship.

I downloaded the complete essays,

on my e-reader,

it has proven to be,

a daunting task,

but,

I will not be deterred,

I have found a,

perfect solution,

I think.

:-)

On Friendship,

in the Penguin Great Ideas  collection,

so,

a small,

easy to handle,

portion of Montaigne,

about a hundred pages,

and,

it is the essays on friendship,

like I said,

perfect.

This collection is made up,

of five phases,

I have read a few,

and,

plan to read a few more.

This is what Penguin ‘says’

about this collection:

Throughout history, some books have changed the world. They have transformed the way we see ourselves – and each other. They have inspired debate, dissent, war and revolution. They have enlightened, outraged, provoked and comforted. They have enriched lives – and destroyed them. Now Penguin brings you the works of the great thinkers, pioneers, radicals and visionaries whose ideas shook civilization, and helped make us who we are.

So, an idea,

came to me.

Why not read,

one a month,

not a big commitment,

and,

will allow me to read some,

quality non-fiction,

which,

sadly,

is something I don’t read enough of.

These are slim volumes,

can be carried anywhere,

pocket, bag, whatever.

The first on my list,

is the Montaigne,

second: A Room Of One’s Own.

Virginia Woolf,

has been a challenge for me,

perhaps,

I am just not literary enough,

this small essay,

I know I can handle,

and,

more than certainly benefit from.

Perusing the list,

I found there were many,

I had a real interest in reading.

On Solitude-Montaigne

An Apology For Idlers-R.L Stevenson

On The Pleasure Of Hating-Hazlitt

The Jewish State-Herzl.

These will bring me into April 2015,

at the one a month pace.

Friendship,

a place to create,

idleness,

I believe anyone who knows me,

or reads my blog,

is aware that these,

are important themes to me.

The Hazlitt on hating,

well,

because,

I think Hazlitt an interesting character,

and,

I have an interest in haters,

I am not one,

but,

I know a few.

:-)

what is that hip hop expression?

Haters Gonna Hate.

The Jewish State,

because I am fascinated by all things,

Jewish,

yep,

I am intrigued to read,

where,

the father of Zionism,

was coming from.

So that is my,

reading project,

well,

one of them for the next few months.

I am still wading through,

Walden,

an important book,

no doubt,

but,

it is tedious,

definitely a broccoli read

:-)

If any of you,

would like to join my in this,

endeavour,

please do,

lots of Great Ideas books to pick from.

Let me know,

guest post?

Why not.

Be well.

Later girls,

BB

***Very sad news, I learned this morning of the passing of Leslie Feinberg, Stone Butch Blues shook me to my very core

here is an early blog post in which I describe the experience of reading it :http://bookishbutch.com/?p=157

RIP Leslie***

 

 

 

 

 

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Pretty darn good day

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category

Sunday morning,

going on afternoon,

been up for hours,

time goes so quickly,

sometimes.

I am sitting here,

in my L.L Bean flannel robe,

the new one,

Pablo Casals on the Spotify,

Bach cello suites,

soothing,

perfect music,

to write to,

for me,

maybe your thing,

is death metal,

different strokes.

:-)

I had a truly wonderful day,

yesterday,

the sun was out,

it was cold,

but,

I was dressed for it,

took the subway to work,

walked by Starbucks picked,

my double long espresso,

low fat turkey bacon breakfast sandwich,

early, not too early,

strolled to work,

stopped in front of ,

the university building that used to be,

a convent,

took a few pics of the last,

remaining leaves.

This convent used to house,

hundreds of nuns,

a female environment,

French Canadian Catholic nuns,

now,

it houses,

hundreds of students,

of all points on the gender spectrum,

of every creed,

of every race,

who speak,

dozens of different languages,

their habits,

are a little different,

interesting,

well I think so,

post Catholic society.

The few remaining leaves,

are yellow,

they are always the last.

Pretty,

in early light,

the red are my favourite,

I am a maple leaf butch.

This photo was taken late in the afternoon

10799734_945354082144833_1704572377_n

 

this one is a morning shot

10806949_946877721992469_1569283352_n

both un-doctored,

phone shots.

this one I call,  Saturday morning, after:-)

10816158_946876705325904_2074156220_n

 

some red leaves, just because, they are pretty

DSC_2460

Shot these before work,

worked all day,

stopped in and had a book chat,

at Argo Books,

at lunchtime,

and then I met my friend,

for dinner.

Just that constitutes,

a pretty good day,

But,

it got better…

After a bowl of Sobe noodles.

coffee and dessert,

a brisk walk around the block,

we proceeded to,

Theatre St-Denis,

to see one of my favourite,

singer songwriters,

Sarah McLachlan.

The St-Denis is.

not too big,

not too small,

perfect,

sound is fine,

you see well.

We heard,

old favourites,

big hits,

and lots from her,

new album,

Shine on.

Sarah was in fine form,

an accomplished musician,

a gifted songwriter,

a warm and articulate woman,

forty-six,

looking healthy and happy.

Sitting there,

with my old friend,

listening to,

an old friend,

as days go,

this was a pretty darn good one.

Be well you all.

Later girls,

BB

 

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The lessons of grief

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category

Been six months,

to the day,

since my anarchist,

died.

I miss him,

it’s a constant,

always there.

I look for him,

for his humour,

for his counsel,

for his intellectual rigour,

no one,

was ever like him,

no one,

ever will,

be.

A true original,

a big burly,

sweaty,

Francoys portrait

joyous man,

who bit into life,

with gusto and excess,

with passion,

with tenderness,

for his fellow man,

not complaisance,

love.

He went way too quickly.

He was one of those,

pain will pass,

keep walking,

things will work out,

kind of men.

I know some of,

his friends,

are angry at him,

for not,

taking better care of himself.

I am not one of those.

He died dramatically,

in a flash,

much as he lived.

His appetites,

were not those of an old man,

even an older man.

He remains,

forever etched,

in our collective memories,

as a young and a middle aged man,

laughing,

smoking,

filling our world,

with his presence,

with his good humour,

with his rocket fuel coffee,

and,

indignation.

Appreciating him as he was,

means,

accepting his passing.

I do.

That,

in no way,

means,

I don’t miss him.

I do,

very much.

Grief and dealing with death,

is a much larger part,

of growing older,

than,

I would have thought.

I guess,

I forget,

mostly,

that I am getting older,

and,

so is,

everyone else,

around me.

I look in the mirror,

vain ole butch like me does that a lot-wink,

and,

I am occasionally surprised,

at the older woman,

I see,

reflected,

I am by no means,

old,

but,

older,

I am.

Weird,

seems like yesterday,

I was thirty,

I suppose in a larger,

cosmic sense,

it was,

yesterday.

I didn’t need,

Francoys’s death,

to illustrate my mortality,

to me,

nor will I,

now,

commence,

to eat,

nothing but,

wheat germ and distilled water,

nor take up,

sky diving,

or going to raves.

I take better care,

of myself,

I have for some time,

but,

I,

too,

wish to live,

my life,

my way.

With joy and compassion,

for the world,

and,

also,

anger and frustration,

at the world,

as it is.

Keep walking,

keep going,

grab the love you can,

don’t worry too much,

about the opinion of others,

consider the source,

and listen to yourself,

and to your people,

take the time,

work,

create,

love.

Enjoy the everyday,

the wind,

the music,

the struggle too,

keeps you,

alive.

The lessons of grief?

It’s hard,

losing people we love,

I know, major insight there!!

our ‘world’ is the poorer,

for it,

they live on,

with us,

in our hearts,

in our memories,

in our stories,

and anecdotes,

but,

they leave gaping holes,

our landscape,

forever changed.

We take up a new,

route,

path,

walk,

life.

I have always been a big believer,

in,

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

but,

maybe it’s more like,

what doesn’t kill you, doesn’t kill you.

For a few days,

now,

I have been listening,

to Barbara,

the great French singer,

she was my anarchist’s favourite.

One of her songs,

Dis Quand Reviendras Tu?

tell me when are you coming back?, lose translation,

has a line,

that I like very much,

I am not of those who dies from grief.

Life goes on,

we remember,

we grieve,

but,

we live.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

 

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November ramblings

canadian blog awards

Winner GLBT category

I have been busy,

mondo busy,

hanging with friends,

family doo,

lots of social activity,

been a nice couple of days,

chasing away,

the November blues.

November,

as I have written,

numerous times,

is my least favourite,

month of the year,

even February,

gets more slack,

from me

:-)

I associate November,

with the death of loved ones,

but,

I can also say that some,

I love,

much,

were born in November,

puts a bit of a balm.

I haven’t been,

blogging,

or writing much,

that I am ready,

to share,

but,

I have been writing,

lots.

It is still in a very fragile state,

feeling my way.

Also after a bit of a lull,

I was in full,

photography mode yesterday.

Had a great time with a friend,

taking some street shots,

in a very interesting.

multi ethnic,

sort of,

gentrified neighbourhood,

or as refer to it:

Hipster Heaven

:-)

was fun,

even with the hipsters,

wink

I don’t mind hipsters as a rule,

their fashion sense,

is pretty close to mine,

boots, flannel, caps and beanies,

I suppose I am a walking cliche,

too,

so what,

I like,

good coffee,

plaid,

and

caps,

always have,

I figure soon,

Normcore will fade,

and I’ll still be wearing,

my L.L Bean,

I have for years,

right now,

I appear to be dressing,

as a twenty something hipster,

of the male persuasion,

it’s funny,

and,

dare I say,

Ironic

:-P

The new header shot,

was an accident,

I was taking a photo,

of the club chair,

my dream chair, I can so see myself, sunk into one, reading, chilling, perfect for someone, who, like myself isn’t very tall.

I downloaded the photos,

and,

there I was,

clearly reflected in the shot,

I like it,

vintage store,

vintage butch.

I guess being born in 1965,

makes me a mid-century modern,

too.

I haven’t been taking too many photos,

lately,

I’ve been a little down on myself,

questioning the pertinence,

doubting….

And then,

yesterday,

I thought to myself–

screw the pertinence,

shoot the shots,

have fun,

stop over thinking everything,

and,

all of a sudden my shots,

were better,

I think.

I love taking pictures,

that is what I have to focus on,

the market,

the pertinence,

all important,

but,

at this stage in my life,

in my development,

so much less so,

than,

the sheer joy,

of,

doing,

learning,

All kinds of thoughts are,

competing,

for my time,

my focus,

my attention,

memories jostling new passions.

November,

may not be my favourite month,

but,

it has always been,

a month of,

fertile thinking,

of looking to the end of year,

of summing up,

and,

forging ahead.

The cold,

forces you to be more,

vigilant, prepared,

to use all that you have learned,

to make it,

through,

to survive,

another,

Winter.

I don’t live in the bush,

nor am I,

truly vulnerable to the elements.

But, Winter is difficult,

more isolation,

less outdoor time,

it has it good points,

but,

it is much less carefree,

focus,

occasionally grit your teeth,

bear down against the wind.

wear your hat and gloves,

keep going.

A picture shooting buddy,

took a picture of me,

taking pictures,

from her original,

photograph,

I got this,

detail,

in black and white

IMG_9290 - Version 3

Diadra Sherwin ©2014

I really like it,

I’m cold and concentrated,

happy,

not silly,

looking, being,

no posing,

an unguarded moment.

November,

brings out the introspective,

the inner ramblings,

this photo,

reminds me—-

focus.

Be well,

thanks for reading.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

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