Saturday, February 11, 2023

The John Tory story

Amazing how things can change on a dime: last night I watched a documentary about a British artist trying to paint the Mona Lisa as Leonardo would have, using the same techniques and type of paint. Just look at the folds in her sleeves! he kept exclaiming. At 11, though my computer is usually off by then, I took a quick look at Twitter before bed. And discovered our boring, hypocritical mayor had just resigned after being outed about an affair with a young staffer. There were lots of funny tweets, including the Beaverton: John Tory's career cut short by his raw, unstoppable sexual magnetism. 

If you want to know why that's funny, Google John Tory. And a fresh scandal is brewing around Doug Ford and his developer buddies, no surprise there. So now we have no mayor and more dirt on our premier. Maybe there's hope for fresh energy for this poor benighted city. 

Another lesson: when you want to see a blockbuster, book immediately. The huge Vermeer exhibit in Amsterdam just opened yesterday, and even though I hadn't set dates for travel, I thought I'd better book a ticket for the date in late March when I'd probably be there. 

Sold out until May, on the first day. So much for that.

It simplifies my life, however. Lynn is warning me of the dire unrest in France, constant strikes, especially trains and the Paris metro. So perhaps not going anywhere special is best while travel there is so unsettled. Though of course this is France, there are always strikes; any issue is discussed by striking or marching in the street. 

My neighbour Monique solved another problem. She said, absolutely, I should go and rent her sister's apartment if it was available. Yes, the flat, in an incredible location in the 6th opposite the Louvre, is available, and I can rent it for 200 euros off the usual price. And Lynn is free to come up from Montpellier at that time. 

So a trip to Paris is probably going to happen, folks. Woo hoo! The thought of time in my happy place is making me happy. Something to get me through February.

I tell students, when the thought of reading a manuscript one more time makes me want to throw up, it's time to shove it out. The last step for me as a writer, before writing goes out into the world, is to have it printed for one last go-over. My wonderful printer Ramy this time cerlox bound it as a gift, so it looks like a book. I spent the whole day yesterday going over Solo Woman: Writing through the storm, mostly to be sure it flows. It flows. I didn't throw up, but it's definitely time for an outside eye to tell me what's wrong. Inshallah. 

There's sun today. And here's more sun for Valentine's Day: my daughter with some of the Indigenous elders she cooks and cares for. 

Love is.

2 comments:

  1. Just back from 3 days in Amsterdam/Utrecht. No chance of tickets for the Vermeer exhibition, but thoroughly enjoyable time anyway. Observation: I saw thousands upon thousands of people riding bicycles, but not a single one was wearing a helmet. Greetings from Alan, now back in Zurich.

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    1. I think cities where there is a good bike infrastructure and everyone cycles are so much safer than our cities. I wouldn't wear a helmet there either. I do wear one here, though. Greetings back to you, Alan.

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