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!

Damselfly holding Peacock pose in Chapel's Cove, NL

One of the items on my 2013 "things I get to do this year list" is adopt a yoga routine. I have been wanting to try it for quite some time, citing a relentless onslaught of schedule management, supply procurement, people development, and financial administration. Plus I had a full-time job on top of all that! 

Some of the reasons people seek out yoga are muscle toning, meditation, flexibility, rehabilitation, concentration skills, and stress reduction. The latter two formed the basis of my goals, but I am discovering that the benefits of a yoga practise are all wonderfully intertwined. I am enjoying a little of each, save rehabilitation, with increased flexibility being the most noticeable improvement. And the most enjoyable part of the sessions.

Another unexpected benefit I've realised since attending weekly yoga classes is how much my body was already capable of. Sadly, one of the reasons I didn't take it up years ago when I felt the inclination was I was daunted by the poses and held fear that my body wouldn't be able to handle them. That was then! Now I have been rewarded with the discovery that I can bend, reach, and hold a lot more effectively than I thought. Instead of feeling frustrated by my body's limitations and wishing it were designed differently, I learned to appreciate it for what it is today and for how much it is capable of doing.

After just one lesson, I was intimately familiar with those terms that yoga aficionados seem to toss around so nonchalantly. Warrior II (I feel triumphant), Tree pose (I feel unsteady but determined to master this), and Downward Dog (a term I've always heard spoken adversely but I don't mind it).

Of course, the best one is Savasana. After the exertion of holding challenging poses and pushing the body to stretch in ways it's never stretched before, the immediate reward is to zone out and completely relax. Just like showers feel the most cleansing after a sweaty, intense workout and spring is more appreciated after a frigid, unrelenting winter, relaxation is more captivating after focused concentration. It's interesting that two ways to invoke such relaxation are imagining the body becoming immovably heavy, and imagining the body as light as air. I like the air reference because I visualise I am flying, or even lighter, blowing away like snow crystals. Sometimes I am melting, limb by limb. Or a feather being carried on the wind. Long grass waving in the breeze. I wonder what comparisons other people formulate in their minds during this all-encompassing meditative state! Maybe it is possible to think nothing at all, although I am thus far unable to pull that one off.

Afterwards, my pliable, weightless body carries me out of the gym with organised thoughts and a tranquil mood. I am walking tall and breathing deeply, my thoughts void of any judgement or uncertainty or agitation. Pure elation. Adopt yoga routine: check!

Great Concert. Big Fun. Sea of No Cares.

Great Concert. Big Fun. Sea of No Cares.

It was all present during Great Big Sea's outdoor concert at Safari Niagara this past August. The boys sailed into Stevensville, ON and delivered their trademark energy sending waves of elation to wash over the cluster of fans. Anyone who listens to Great Big Sea's music probably wonders if singer and guitarist Alan Doyle is as crazy and spirited in concert as he sounds on CD. And of course, like most multi-talented musically-reared musicians, his passion and energy comes across tenfold live. This is a man who obviously loves to perform and engage the audience. The entire band has always succeeded in doing that. Regardless of how many times I hear Sean McCann belt out General Taylor, with or without the heartbeat drum accompaniment, it always gives me chills.

The name of this tour is XX. Twenty. 2013 marks the band's 20th Anniversary of getting people on their feet and sharing in the craft of traditional and contemporary music. Upon reflection, I realised I've actually been immersed in their artistry for probably that long. The first time I saw them was many years ago - sometime in the  mid-90's. I was visiting my parents for Christmas, and a close friend of mine invited me to a concert at the Delta Hotel Ballroom in St. John's. I didn't recognise the name of the band but he assured me I would enjoy it and he never steers me wrong so I accepted the invitation. Great Big Sea was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. I wasn't a big concert goer back then, and growing up in a small Labrador community didn't expose me to a whole lot of musical diversity. The concert was standing room only which didn't matter because nobody would have been able to stay seated anyway. I became intoxicated by the exuberance of the crowd and the passion of the performers harmonizing their lyrics and alternating instruments as effortlessly as we alternate cutlery. I was enthralled by the buzz of the crowd who gleefully sang along and somehow knew that the sad introduction to the story of Pat Murphy wasn't really going to be that sad of a song...

I still can't confirm how far back that concert occurred because my original ticket stub doesn't have a year on it!!! It just has Friday, Dec. 27th at 8:30 pm. But that's OK. I'm just glad to have been there as well as many more of their concerts over the years. And following the 2013 concert where I took this picture from the grass of Safari Niagara I was proud to purchase their anniversary tour t-shirt knowing that I was singing along to Mari-Mac long before anyone else in Stevensville, ON was doing it! That is, if they even can!

Buffalo as seen from Crystal Beach

 

 

Like many people, I am usually carrying around a pretty substantial mental list of things I would like to do "if I have the time". You know what I mean: specific little activities that would make me smile and breathe deeply and appreciate the beauty and whimsy of life if only I could make space for them. I'm not talking about the so-called "bucket list" of monumental events that require a passport and a second mortgage. I'm talking about the little pleasures.... activities that are usually pretty easy to make happen, close to home, and completely affordable. We all have them, based on our individual values, our personal preferences... comprised of those undertakings that either provide an escape or enlighten the senses or tickle some talent we have simmering inside.

I'd like to think such wonderful outlets don't become shuffled to the bottom of the To Do List of any given day because they are considered unimportant. It is because they are tasks that don't require immediate attention and don't affect an item high up on someone else's To Do List. As long as we complete our pressing tasks, our lives continue on their courses whether we get to the fun stuff today or next month or eventually. Nobody will nag at us for not indulging in the fun stuff. Except, perhaps, our own hearts!

This picture illustrates something that I have always wanted to do: drive out to the dock at Crystal Beach, ON, and take in the expanse of Lake Erie as well as some pictures of the Buffalo skyline. Crystal Beach is only a half hour's drive from me so it was easily doable. I drove out there this week and drank in the wide open space and gloriously refreshing autumn air while contemplating life from its lakeside collection of quarry rocks. I was snap-happy as well and with the dynamically shifting display of clouds, I was presented a different image every few minutes! It was a well-received escape from my usual landscape and I returned to tend to the other items on my list completely rejuvenated.

Salted View on the Rock

Salted View on the Rock

Cabot Tower, Signal Hill, NL

 

 

This is my latest in an eclectic collection of self-portraits. Never one for symmetrical or sparkly pretty,  I enjoy the natural filters applied by the reflective surface of choice: the abstracted ripples of a stainless steel wine fermenter, a round mirror's distortion, a window's slightly muted weathering... always unique and always inverted!

 

I love the idea of capturing by my own hand a moment in time in a place that intrigues me. They are so personal to me that I never have to write down where or when they were taken, even as they float contently in a sea of thousands of images.

 

This one was taken during a trip to St. John's, NL. I was looking into the exterior of the Cabot Tower while standing atop its roof and my Mom was looking towards the ocean due east! I was visiting in July and in addition to the warm sunshine, there was barely any wind! Another different way to experience the rock.

 

 

 

The spot on which we're standing can be seen in the photo below:

 

 

 

 

 

And for those of you who don't know what the Cabot Tower is, here is my full shot in all its strong, stately glory:

 

 

 

It's funny because I visit St. John's yearly and whenever I'm there, I venture to Signal Hill and I devour the imagery with my camera. Every time. Of course I always add new corners and streets to the list of things I want to see, but Signal Hill is always included. And I always grin when I'm standing there and I imagine that I'm taking the same shots again and again. But today, as I was searching for the specific illustrative shots seen in this post, I had to go through my archives to find them! The first picture is from 2013, the second one 2012, and the third was taken in 2010! So it's gratifying and exciting to learn that I am adding to my collection every time. And that regardless of how many times I see a familiar landscape or building or historic site, there is always something new to discover. After all, it is being experienced through refreshed eyes and another year's worth of experiences and understanding.