The sky above my mother’s house
If healing means to make whole, as Michael Meade claims, then what part of me is missing? I have a hole in my chest a mile…
Triple spirals: Magical, simple, complex
Chris and I loped up the hill toward the burial mound along with forty or fifty other tourists – T’s, as we referred to them, laughing…
Thanks for the gift of a play date with artist Mo Hamilton
Emerging from a peaceful Thanksgiving weekend, I’m grateful for so much: my extraordinary, beautiful life on the farm with LW, my family, friends and neighbours, my…
upholSTORIES: Be glad your couch can’t talk
The ultra-talented Carin Makuz has created upholSTORIES—an exhibition of photographs and stories showing now until May 14 in Gallery A of the Robert McLaughlin Gallery in…
Blurry photographs
One of my favourite editing gigs is as copyeditor for the Journal of Childhood Studies. I work with an amazing team, and every issue I learn…
The thunder of moving light
Carin at Matilda Magtree writes about skies that are impossible to ignore. I can’t ignore the one I saw yesterday in the late afternoon, in the…
String and silence, entwined
Carin at Matilda Magtree illustrated her recent post about how to write seasonally unaffected greeting cards with her photographs of Judith Scott’s amazing fibre sculptures.* The…
Charles Elliott: carver, teacher, language saver
I used to write profiles for a small magazine in Victoria that catered to seniors. The gig didn’t pay well ($10 a profile, $20 if I…
Protecting our sanctuaries
I live in something of a self-imposed media vacuum. I don’t watch TV or read newspapers, except occasionally online. LW flips on CBC radio in the mornings while…
Art for the masses
Ever since I wondered aloud yesterday whether mass-produced art is really art, I’ve been batting the question around in my brain like a ping pong ball. No, it…