A Day of One's Own

I can't believe this is the fourth birthday post I've done! It's always been a fun way to share photos I had earmarked for a blog entry but that never quite formulated into a story. And then some of them make it in here because they illustrate a life lesson I want to share. But these aren't just ideas I come up with because they sound nice or suit the image. They are examples of the silly, expressive, unabashedly enjoyable ways I celebrate all my days... even the long days, even the overcast days, even the Mondays. And especially the birthdays. They're all good. 

If you would like more posts like this, select "Birthday" in the labels. Cheers!

Bank of the Welland Recreational Canal Nov 2013

Embrace the seasons.

Door handle on St. Andrews Presbyterian Church, Welland, ON

See the silly.

Spotted at the bottom of a lamp post near Battery Park, NYC

Notice the details.

Directional signs on Signal Hill in St. John's, NL

Find your way home. 

Love lock affixed to fencing along the Niagara River, Niagara Falls, ON

Profess your love.

Photographing BMX stunters behind the Civic Square.

Share your passion.

Autumn clouds behind the Civic Square in Welland, ON

Put your head in the clouds. 

My son's prose.

Celebrate expressive writing.

Looking down at Niagara Falls in the morning from Livingstone Street.

Never tire of the view.

Shot into the back window of my jeep at Crystal Beach, ON.

Do things your own way.

CM

In a Macy's State of Mind

Once again, I'm finding myself in a New York state of mind. Last night I had a dream that I was there, walking along 5th Avenue en route to Central Park, and I remember thinking "Hmmm, I haven't been to the Guggenheim yet. I would love to take pictures of that building and perhaps even go inside!!!" And then I was reminded that along the edge of the park, there are apparently several fine museums in which to get lost. Although I am a bit of an art history buff, I haven't felt the urge to venture up there, mainly because the limited hours in one of my quick darts into the city would be quickly eaten up by walking through the doors of any gallery. Of course what I should do is plan an excursion specifically for that reason, perhaps a dreaded summer trip when it's too damn hot to pound the pavement behind a camera lens. Surely, museums are air conditioned?

This one wasn't taken in the heat. It was taken at the end of November last year, crossing off one of the things I wanted to do in NYC: become entranced by the ingenuity and artistry of seasonal window displays along Fifth Avenue. Well as it turned out, nothing on Fifth caught my attention as much as the arrangements we saw right off the bus at Macy's. They were magical and animated and creative. So much so that I found my eyes welling up as I imagined that these gorgeous depictions of childhood wonder had at one time resided only in someone's imagination. And now there they were brought to life.

Somebody conjured up the idea of a little boy watching a shooting star against the Northern Lights, of a boy lying in bed with images of his dreams dancing over his head, of snowflakes cajoling above a pair of reindeer on a hillside, and of delicate fairies fluttering overhead carrying bubbles between their fingers. Fabulous ideas that would have become sketches. Then that person had to present these drawings to someone else and hope to hear that person say: "Those are some fine ideas. Now how can we transfer them to our window boxes?" Then someone else said: "I know how we could make that happen." And then someone else said: "I know how to build it the way you engineered it / designed it / approved it / imagined it." And because of all that, the original dreamer could stand before crystal clear windows and gaze at an actual rendition of the imagery that once only existed behind his or her own eyes. That's magical!

And speaking of which, I should mention that not only were the characters in each lavish window display realistically animated, they were motion-activated! For example, those of us standing before the display could wave our arms and watch as the snowflakes blowing along the window flew at the same speed and in the same direction as our arms! Never mind getting lost in MOMA, I could have spent a whole morning standing spellbound outside of Macy's!!

It was about 10am on a Saturday when I took this picture, and most of the viewers were young families with children who were just as wide-eyed as the adults, and even more animated upon discovering they could make things happen just by waving their arms! But I think the person who intrigued me the most was a stylish man in leather pants with a black turtleneck under a pinstriped jacket, peering out from behind thick-framed glasses, aiming his smartphone camera at just one of the windows. Then I noticed a red Macy's store pin clinging to his lapel. He didn't appear to be affected by the exquisite production behind the glass, but I couldn't help but wonder about him: Was this a recently installed display and he was seeing it for the first time himself? Was he a seasonal sales person or a resident marketing guru? Or could it be that he was one of the original dreamers who was absolutely bursting inside but insisted on exuding professionalism and nonchalance about his ingenuity? Either way, he just paused before the window just long enough to capture a couple of shots, and then he turned around and went back into the store. I've said it before and I'll say it again: people-watching could be a vocation in New York City!!

IlluminAqua's Hibernation

This is where IlluminAqua's vibrant concert series takes place in Welland during the summer months. Under a fresh application of snow, its curving benches almost appear abstract and you can really appreciate the beauty of the design.

That's one of the beautiful things about snow: the way it changes the landscape so what you are accustomed to seeing appears very different. It must be sad to live down south where there is no change of the seasons, no reset button on the routines of our lives.

It's easy for me to say this now because I love snow and I love winter. And because I am invigorated by fresh, crisp winter air, I am more comfortable getting outside for activity in December than in July, thanks to the thick, muggy air we must navigate around here in the summer months.

This was the first major snowfall of 2013, taken on Wednesday, November 27. I typically go for a run along these gorgeous canal lands, but on this particular day, I decided to take it a little slower and bring my camera along for the excursion.

The snow that fell overnight was so thick and damp that it clung to everything it touched. Bare tree branches were adorned with thick, white highlights, giving them a fresh, pristine quality. They stood out like works of art against the darker apartment buildings and churches in the area. Ordinary shrubs were transformed into tidy topiaries and everything from fences to street signs were painted in the cleanest, brightest white.

Not only does the appearance of the thick snow produce a smooth, cohesive environment, but the blanketing effect also absorbs noise. It's more noticeable at night for obvious reasons, but even as I walked along the canal at 9AM, there was barely a sound, even though vehicles were being driven along the Division Street bridge as usual.

I took photos from this location, then walked down to Lincoln Street, and across to the opposite bank, and back to Division Street. It was calming, therapeutic, and stimulating all at the same time, and provided more evidence of how beautiful the city can be.

The Rink at Rockefeller, Manhattan 2013

It was a simple, specific goal. In the array of all that Manhattan has to offer, amid all the lights from the twinkle lights in the trees to the pattern of office windows still illuminated after 5, we wanted to see the tree at Rockefeller Center all decked out for Christmas!

As this year's trip was later in the year than usual, we decided it was a fair expectation. Not only were we on the cusp of December, but the sun would set earlier so we would have more time immersed in darkness and surrounded by lights before we had to make it back to the bus. As usual, the trip was a quick dart into the city... travel overnight on Friday and again on Saturday night, and be back in Canada by Sunday morning. I never spend the night, never stick around the see the sunrise. Some people say I'm crazy, but I think it's brilliant!

So around 5pm we made our way from Times Square to Rockefeller's explosion of lights. It was stunning but we were soon disappointed: there was a tall black void in the glow. The tree was erected but it was dark. No lights.

We wrestled our way through the crowd of skaters awaiting their turn on that famous rink. I stood on the platform and took several pictures of people whizzing past, before the glorious variety of lights. It was a gorgeous scene, one that eased our disappointment. As long as we didn't look too high upwards, it was a gorgeous scene!!

As we walked back towards the street, we spoke with a policeman in the crowd and discovered the tree wouldn't be lit until four days later. Four days into December when we would be back in our respective real worlds and putting up our own, smaller, versions of Christmas trees.

The knife became wedged in a little more on Sunday evening when my kids and I were watching Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. A holiday favourite for sure, particularly since both my son and I could utter the words: "I've been there" throughout the story. But he wasn't with me on this recent trip. So towards the end, when Kevin and his mother are reunited, the scene of the brilliantly lit Christmas behemoth was a frustration he didn't share. 

It was cool to discover, though, that the path leading up to the rink in the movie was adorned with the same angels and stars I had just seen in person. So that was good!

Delta Armoury Reflection in London, ON

 

"...the grass is always greener but you still have to cut it..." - Hawksley Workman

 

 

Usually, when the urge to get away pokes at the arm and tickles at the sides, plans are knit together for an evening away at a hotel, usually in Toronto. In August, however, the decision was embraced to stay in London instead. Here was a city I had never explored but one with which my travelling companion had developed close relations while achieving a degree at Western University some years ago.

Unbeknownst to me during the planning stages, this trip would end up tickling more than just one of my sides. It indulged my creative side, my musical side, my dreamy side, and my determined side that perpetually aspires to do more. Inspiration nudged up against me many times. Thankfully, I took notes.

So plans were made to visit London and stay at the gorgeously renovated Delta Armoury, but that's about it. Other than a sold-out Hawksley Workman concert at Aeolian Hall, there weren't any events that caught our eye. But that was fine - there was market-hopping and window-gazing and idea-mingling to facilitate our desire for an escape. The concert tickets remained in the backs of our minds, but the possibility of attending was creeping further and further away as the start time approached. Mere hours before the show, we finally scored entry thanks to an early morning hail-mary Kijiji ad seeking a pair tickets to the show!

I had first discovered the music of the quirky and passionate Hawksley Workman about fifteen years ago when I stumbled upon Jealous of Your Cigarette. (be honest: you're intrigued...) That was the only song I really knew, but over the years his name would occasionally surface and I came to view him as a creative and serious musician. Then I became enamoured with Oh You Delicate Heart and sought out more.

Experiencing his music live exceeded all expectations!! It was at times mesmerising and whimsical and intriguing but overall thoroughly entertaining. Everyone in the room seemed to know his music and some even gravitated towards the stage as the show went on to dance and become further entranced. My favourite takeaway from this concert was the discovery of his We'll Make Time, a song performed early in a repertoire of music largely unfamiliar to me, but one that I knew I would retain as a favourite.

While purchasing actual takeaways from the show, we caught up with friends spotted in the crowd, a charismatic couple known thanks to past jobs and schooling. Here were two people who had taken risks earlier in life to further their crafts, each one boldly proposing significant writing projects without any concern about whether their ideas would be accepted. But accepted they were - one of them has made a career out of cranking out episode guides to several very popular television shows. And that's just a side venture!!

The following day, we ventured to Western University and meandered around its bookstore. Along with a few good bookmarks, I happened to pick up Molly Birnbaum's Season to Taste, a descriptive and sensory memoir about embracing life changes and taking control of the next steps. In short, imagine an aspiring chef suddenly losing her sense of smell! You don't have to be a whiz in the kitchen to appreciate how that could derail someone's life path.

Aside from the inspirational message, this book resonated with me for a few reasons:

I was out of routine and still under the spell of an insanely expressive musician who didn't hesitate to put himself out there.

I discovered it while standing within a university, a destination I still wish I had pursued when I was younger.

And I was holding a personal accomplishment in my hand that I, myself, strive to produce, one that I know would be easier for me to realise if I read other people's words more often.

But why this particular book? The truth is I am a sucker for good presentation, and I would be lying if I said I didn't pick it up because of the cover: a simple row of mason jars, each one filled with a unique, unrefined food item. And the really interesting thing is if I had happened to come across the alternate edition, with the cover image of a woman sitting at a kitchen table, it would not have caught my eye at all. Funny how certain designs speak to certain people!

See below for two links that should serve to tickle any curiosity that may have surfaced from reading my impressions. I've described experiences that on the surface aren't related, but combined into one excursion, they continue to inspire and push me to reach some of the most substantial - and ultimately, achievable - goals on my list.

http://hawksleyworkman.com/2010/videos/the-delicious-wolves-videos/
http://mollysmadeleine.blogspot.ca/

Some Light on the Bridge

 

There are many images of Welland's old lift bridge rising out of the recreational canal like a pair of brontosauri approaching one another. Some photographs are shot at night, with strategically placed lights reflecting off the still water, one row lining the bridge and another row running back along the edge of the canal.

 

This bridge stands strong and proud as it guards the great intersection of our city. Not having been raised since 1972, it has remained an integral part of Welland's identity and a recognisable feature for so many residents and visitors.

 

With Niagara College's campus reaching north from the canal, there are so many transplanted young people stretching their wings for the first time as they live away from home. It is unfortunate, but they likely only venture downtown for a specific excursion, just to see what it's like, since everything they need is up near the college.

 

Twenty years ago, this was me. I lived just a few minutes away from the college and pretty much walked everywhere I had to go. One evening, I decided to take advantage of the newly launched community bus service that circulated later than the regular city buses. I wanted to see downtown, but I was happy to take the long way to get there so I could tour the area as well!

 

Seeing the lift bridge for the first time was awe-inspiring for me. I'd never seen anything like it, and not having yet viewed ships in the functioning waterway, I marvelled at the idea of a bridge - a part of the street - actually lifting into the air! And as we drove around the general area, I could spy glimpses of one tower or another through the buildings, grounding me as the bus followed its route.

 

I imagine it would echo the thrill of being in Paris and finally gazing upon the illustrious Eiffel Tower that one had only previously seen in two dimensions.

 

Even with its bridge-adorned canal, I know Welland is a far cry from Paris, but a historical, recognisable structure that reaches up into the sky, visible from many areas of a city, is something to be revered and preserved, regardless of its international stature.

 

Fast forward to a June evening in 2013 that saw me as a long-time resident meandering along the winding pathway leading towards Main Street. I was behind the Civic Square and shot several images of the bridge and its accessories as the sun receded into the escarpment. Like many people, I typically traverse the bridge on four wheels as I make my way up Niagara Street in the direction of the college. But this time, I saw aspects of this familiar structure while on foot that I'd never noticed from a vehicle, such as this smooth nautical light.

There are many ways to see the bridge, and many angles and facets to contemplate whether the vantage point is from a sister bridge or from the foot of its towers. Hopefully it remains a prominent Welland structure, and continues to be valued and maintained to stand tall in our downtown.

Toronto Rocks Lacrosse!

Although the game of lacrosse is one of Canada's National Sports, it was only recently that I had the pleasure of cheering on a game. My son had received three tickets to a Toronto Rock game for his birthday. So on a comfortable Sunday afternoon in January, he and his chosen companions (well, he chose his cousin -  I was more of a given not a chosen!) rode the GO train to Union Station and Air Canada Centre.

For some reason, I'd always assumed lacrosse was similar to ball hockey. After all, there are sticks, and a ball and a goaltender and the desire to move one past the other. I figured the main difference between the two was the passing of the ball at eye level as opposed to ankle level (which would explain the absence of shin pads which initially made my soccer and ball-hockey-playing son cringe!) But after viewing this game, we agreed that lacrosse more closely resembles basketball with its structured offence and defence rotations and even a shot clock!

Curiously, a very noticeable difference between professional lacrosse and other professional sports was the continuous presence of music. The playlist was of the same flavour but unlike watching a basketball or a hockey game, nobody hit the pause button upon the continuation of the play. During a hockey game, I would just be getting into the song when it would stop as the ref was dropping the puck. I always thought: wouldn't it be nice if the music kept playing as they athletes were playing? But now I also wonder if the energetic tunes might interfere with the spectators' attention to the intricate activities of the game itself!

Perhaps the onslaught of music actually adds a layer to the climate of this crazy game! After all, players are constantly whipping one another with their lacrosse sticks and jumping over one another. They clearly don't subscribe to the traditional sporting practise of calling penalties - there were barely any throughout the entire game. But it certainly wasn't due to the absence of roughness!

Overall, it was highly enjoyable to observe the skill required to line up a ball with a guarded net using a handheld net, and seeing players darting around with the precision and determination of a dragonfly intently following its supper. It was a thrill to experience something so action-packed and so Canadian - I  now know what a lacrosse game looks like!