Not much to say except - I leave in a few hours for the airport (at rush hour - crowded subways, many Canadians to warm me as I journey.) I just read today's Star and am very glad I can leave behind and try to forget briefly about Stephen Harper and his twin Netanyahu, cynical exploitive terror-mongers both. Now I can learn about another country's problems which don't matter so much.
My grandson went skating for the first time today, wish I could have seen that. In meditation this morning, Judy mentioned that perhaps, as we walked the path she was guiding us along, we might be holding someone's hand. And I was, I was holding Eli's hand. How I will miss him and his beloved mother and his wonderful uncle. I've come through a very long whirlwind with my kids, I now realize - so many years as a single mother, years of worry continuing to very recently. Because neither of my kids has chosen anything like a traditional path - steady job, steady relationship, hell no, that's much too conventional.
They are beautiful human beings, loving, kind, generous, loyal and funny. And I can only hope that my staying home with them, impatient, scattered and inconsistent as I was as a mother, has something to do with that. Anna showed me a picture recently of a storytime session at a local drop in; there are ten kids on the floor, surrounded mostly by Filipina nannies, and the one kid riveted on the storyteller is Eli. His mother's patient focus and attention shows so clearly in him. I am so very proud of her.
Her brother Mr Tall, Tattooed and Handsome is blazing his own path - he is in a cocktail making competition at the extremely trendy Drake Hotel next week so is practicing his cocktails. He helped a friend who has just opened a new bar by working there on St. Patrick's Day, in the drunken frenzy, from 11 a.m. till 4 in the morning, and then they discovered a problem with the Visa receipts and stayed till 6 a.m. working it out. I could not be more proud of him either.
So I am the luckiest of women. Paris is the icing, but the cake - no, the bread, the core, the raison d'être - is family.
I need to find my new place in the 14th arrondissement and then find an Orange shop and get something called a clé that will give me the internet before I can chat from France. I'll be in touch.
P.S. As a final going-away present, just got this email from a former student:
This is a quick note from a voice from the past. I have just finished watching the final round of the Canada Reads debates and decided to write you a note to say a heartfelt "Thank You". Today was the first time, ever I believe, that I have not felt like an outsider watching the literary debates around choosing this year's Canada Reads book. I was moved to tears by the thoughtful discussions - on both the books' literary merits and their social relevance, the respectful and yet passionate arguments put forward; and the presenters' pride, without exception, at being Canadian. For today's experience (and many others like it), I am grateful to you and your patient coaching. You were top of my mind today as the show signed off.
Thank you, I'm so glad.
Signing off, b.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
I've gotta get out of this place
The endless departure - I'm still here, but barely. Tomorrow night at this time - 9.15 p.m., I hope to be on the plane, though it doesn't take off till 9.35. And at 10 a.m. Friday morning, we land in Paris.
That's the plan, anyway.
As I try to extricate myself from my full life here, I'm overwhelmed by how much there is to do and wonder why I am leaving (not to mention the lack of a certain Booboo for five whole weeks. By the time I come back, he'll be skateboarding and going steady). There's a long TO DO list in my day-timer starting the day I get back. But then I realize - that's why I'm going. I need to spend a few weeks without my full life - just my very small self, my mind and heart and tourist eyes and a suitcase that's not too bad though probably still more full than it should be. But really, for 5 weeks, not bad.
Not feeling great, but not actually sick. Victory. A last guided meditation with Judy and the group tomorrow morning, last minute errands, last minute phone calls, a last lunch with Wayson, and then - get me out of here.
To keep everything in perspective, to remember just how insignificant we are, here's a breathtaking film made by NASA.
http://www.collective-evolution.com/2015/01/20/nasa-has-released-the-largest-picture-ever-taken-it-will-rock-your-universe/
That's the plan, anyway.
As I try to extricate myself from my full life here, I'm overwhelmed by how much there is to do and wonder why I am leaving (not to mention the lack of a certain Booboo for five whole weeks. By the time I come back, he'll be skateboarding and going steady). There's a long TO DO list in my day-timer starting the day I get back. But then I realize - that's why I'm going. I need to spend a few weeks without my full life - just my very small self, my mind and heart and tourist eyes and a suitcase that's not too bad though probably still more full than it should be. But really, for 5 weeks, not bad.
Not feeling great, but not actually sick. Victory. A last guided meditation with Judy and the group tomorrow morning, last minute errands, last minute phone calls, a last lunch with Wayson, and then - get me out of here.
To keep everything in perspective, to remember just how insignificant we are, here's a breathtaking film made by NASA.
http://www.collective-evolution.com/2015/01/20/nasa-has-released-the-largest-picture-ever-taken-it-will-rock-your-universe/
Monday, March 16, 2015
Wolf Hall is coming
One of my sorrows about going away is that I will miss, not just my grandson, but the first episodes of "Wolf Hall," the new BBC series based on the brilliant Booker-winning novels about Cromwell and Henry VIII, and starring my favourite actor on the planet, Mark Rylance. It starts on PBS in early April and my British friends say it's incredible. According to the Guardian today, this series has at last made Mark an international star. About time. He is such an odd duck in life, no question, and yet magnificent on stage and screen, magical, the most committed and brave actor I've ever seen.
My dear friend Richard is going to tape the first episodes for me. So - I guess I'll go after all.
Am fighting - of course - a cold! Met a friend at the Y who had a cold and I said, Keep away, I cannot get a cold. An hour later, I started to sneeze. Three hours later, I felt the bug moving in. But am taking French homeopathic medicine thanks to Monique, and much Vitamin C and zinc. Will NOT allow this to take root. Do not want to take a trans-Atlantic flight with the sniffles.
Monique had her francophone dinner last night - a marvel of conversation, as always. Jack has read Bill C51 and thinks it's perfectly fair and balanced, but then Jack is considerably to the right of the rest of us. We discussed why "Fifty Shades of Grey" has had such success, the state of Israel today (Jacqueline had just come back from a junket there), and many other things. Food, friendship, great talk - and I only drank 2 1/2 glasses of wine. Okay, big glasses, but still. I am discovering abstemiousness. At this late stage. Hope it doesn't last.
Last class at Ryerson tonight - goodbye, dear students, it was a wonderful term. And now, my time is mine. Once I cross these forty-seven things off my list and get onto that plane. Without a cold.
My dear friend Richard is going to tape the first episodes for me. So - I guess I'll go after all.
Am fighting - of course - a cold! Met a friend at the Y who had a cold and I said, Keep away, I cannot get a cold. An hour later, I started to sneeze. Three hours later, I felt the bug moving in. But am taking French homeopathic medicine thanks to Monique, and much Vitamin C and zinc. Will NOT allow this to take root. Do not want to take a trans-Atlantic flight with the sniffles.
Monique had her francophone dinner last night - a marvel of conversation, as always. Jack has read Bill C51 and thinks it's perfectly fair and balanced, but then Jack is considerably to the right of the rest of us. We discussed why "Fifty Shades of Grey" has had such success, the state of Israel today (Jacqueline had just come back from a junket there), and many other things. Food, friendship, great talk - and I only drank 2 1/2 glasses of wine. Okay, big glasses, but still. I am discovering abstemiousness. At this late stage. Hope it doesn't last.
Last class at Ryerson tonight - goodbye, dear students, it was a wonderful term. And now, my time is mine. Once I cross these forty-seven things off my list and get onto that plane. Without a cold.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
See him run at 95
As I sit here eating breakfast and drinking coffee, I turn to FB to waste some time, as if other ways to waste time aren't piled all around me. And then I see a film of a 95-year old man breaking a world speed record for his age, and now feel like the laziest slug on earth. UP AND AT 'EM!
http://bbc.in/1Bql8BL (video courtesy of BBC Radio 5 live)
I'm packing. And it looks like this:
http://bbc.in/1Bql8BL (video courtesy of BBC Radio 5 live)
I'm packing. And it looks like this:
And, for your very great listening pleasure, here are some talented white Canucks with a fabulous sound, in a tribute to Shad, the new host of Q:
Arkells – Tracks of my Tears
Saturday, March 14, 2015
60 Shades of Grey
Wendy VanReisen is a multi-talented woman - an actress, artist, writer and designer who now lives among the First Nations people on Haida Gwaii on Canada's west coast. I was lucky enough to be on stage with her in 1996, and with her skill and big heart, she reminded me what theatre is really about. She sends out a blog periodically and here's a beautiful piece that came today:
60 Shades of Grey: My Year in Masset
When I was a young girl, I lived with my aunt and grandma. My grandma Lila had grey hair. I loved her. Sometimes her hair was blue-grey and sometimes purple-grey, depending on the number of washes since her bluing ‘rinse’ at the hairdressers. But if you asked me what colour her hair was I would have simply said “grey”.
March is my birthday month (since one day will no longer suffice). On the 21st I will be 60 years old and it is abundantly clear to me that, rinse or no rinse, grey is not one colour. Nor is it simply colour-less as a scientist might quip. In the art world, adding grey to any colour is said to ‘sadden’ the colour. I say AGEISM!!!! Grey, rather than lacking the colour of the freshly blossomed bud, is the ash left from the glorious burning of every petal. My abundant 60 shades of grey float not only through my hair but, like Mt. St. Helen’s, blanket the wider world and drift deep into my bones. I am more compassionate, empathetic, kind, arthritic, forgiving, loving, gracious, fat, fearless, outspoken, wrinkled, creative, giving, free, passionate, near-sighted, accepting, inviting, generous, old, helpful, humble, inviting and grey then I ever thought possible. I am very thankful for my rich life. I am very thankful for all the connections I have made with others. I am very thankful to be alive.
Thank you, Wendy, from one grey bird to another. Me too. Happy 60th birthday.
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