Saturday, June 18, 2016

Happy Birthday, Macca

Have spent the last two days at the Canadian Writers' Summit at Harbourfront. My mind is fried. Here's today's bon mot: Poets are obsessed with death and commas.

I will write more about the experience when I've had time to process it  - lots of workshops and encounters, many scribbled notes. The weekend could not have been more beautiful, hot and bright, on the lake - Toronto at its best. And I made a new best friend - Judy McFarlane from Vancouver, whom I'd met at the non-fiction conference at Banff and reconnected with at the summit. She ended up coming here for dinner tonight, and as women do, we flung ourselves immediately into the story of our entire lives. We are born the same year, spoke about our parents and children and our MFA's from UBC, but most of all, about writing. A wonderful bond.

But for now, as I decompress, I have to celebrate something equally important: it's June 18, Macca's birthday. He's 74 today. No doubt singing his lungs out somewhere in the world right now. We love you, Mr. Music. Please don't stop.

A few pictures:
Playing guitar some years ago, and the other day, at a
concert in Berlin, in solidarity with Orlando. LOVE!

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