kind notes

That does it, I've left a message for my doctor. It's such a lovely day, and I'm in bed. Something must be done - maybe this is more than flu. Of course, whenever I finally call the doctor, by the time I see her I'm well again. Usually. So let's hope this happens now. I teach tonight and realize this is not like having to go onstage when ill; I can just explain that I am not quite my bouncy self and do my best, can't do that when in a show. As always, adrenaline will carry me through tonight and tomorrow and Thursday night too.

In the meantime, I'm busy editing five So True essays and my memoir before getting it printed for the first time, exciting. And people are cheering me up with lovely notes about past work. This from a former student:
Just finished All My Loving. What a lovely, fun read! It took me back to my own Beatlemania days and to the experience of being fourteen. The way one's emotional life can be based almost completely on fantasy (maybe not just at fourteen). Many thanks!
"Lovely fun read" sounds great to me, thank you! And this from an old friend in Ottawa about my very first book, a compilation of essays from CBC radio and Facts and Arguments in the Globe, hence the title:
I recently picked up my signed copy of Back Page Stories which you gave me years ago. Now that spring has arrived and I wake up earlier and earlier, I wanted you to know that re-reading one short piece a day is as much a springtime ritual as opening the back door and listening to the peepers and chickadees before sunrise. Your writing is still very moving, given that we all have similar heart-warming experiences in our lives, and your social commentary is as relevant today as it was then. I've now discovered your blog and a few more good reads, I'm sure.  
I hope so too - that more good reads are in store, as soon as I stop whining about my lungs. Spring is definitely here, and I want to roll in the grass like a happy dog. Soon.

daffodils

It's a stunning day, at last, and I feel almost human. Not quite but getting there, after three healing events today: the sunshine; an hour in the garden encouraging the tiny green things - really? you can hear them gasp - it's really over and we can come out now?

And a visit from my son. If anything can cheer me up, it's that big lug. So moving right along. Onward. Go away, whatever bug you are, and come again another day aka never.

The first bouquet from the garden - and the birdhouse Eli painted for me for Xmas. I just put the Provencal tablecloth on the deck table, on the assumption that it's not going to get snowed on. I know - ha ha, this is Canada and it's only May 2! But there's hope. There is most definitely hope.

Beth's Ryerson class starts Wednesday

Writers and students, please send out the word to your creative friends - or even consider for yourself: my class at Ryerson is small; more writing students are welcome. It starts Wednesday evening at 6.30. Usually my classes are full by now, no idea why registration is low this term - the low dollar? The weather? My reputation for making people cry?

Only kidding. Just received this from a student in last term's Ryerson class:

Many thanks for the class this winter. It was such a pleasure, and much more than that. I so much appreciated the chance to write. You have a gift for creating a community that is inviting yet not overwhelming. Hope the spring class is going well. 

Thank you for your kind words. The spring class will be going well soon.

Come join us.

Koneline: our land beautiful, Hot Docs must see

This morning, looking at the chilly drizzle and still feeling horrible, I almost cancelled today's engagement, to see my friend Nettie Wild's documentary "Koneline" at Hot Docs. But wanted so much to see it that I took some Tylenol and got dressed; Annie picked me up in her yellow Prius and off we went. So so so glad we did!

It's one of the most beautiful and powerful films I've ever seen. I urge you not to miss it. It's on only once more, but I'm sure will win many awards and come back for a commercial run. It made me understand as never before the north, the landscape, the difficulties and joys of life there, the resilience of the people, their bond with the land and their ancestors and their struggles - even the different sides of development, how the incursion of mines and power lines is not black and white, though perhaps in any case it's too late to fight them. Or perhaps not. Most of the First Nations elders, in the riveting blockade scenes, are women. Nettie follows a woman who owns a hunting operation with a dozen horses, up into the mountains. We watch the Tahltan people live their lives and intuit what will happen as the mine moves in. It's unforgettable.

As one elder woman says, How would I explain the wilderness? It's our life.

What's heartbreakingly clear is this: once this magnificent wilderness is gone, it's gone forever. We will never get it back. We're selling our souls for today, but what about tomorrow? The fate of the land, not just for now but for the ages - that's the sacred legacy the elders carry. And yet they need to survive, and the world moves relentlessly on.

This is the email I just sent:

Nettie, your film is stunning. My friend Annie who was there with me works with the Jesuit Forum on third world development, and she was knocked over - she is working on mining issues in the Honduras, the same story. You capture all the complexities, the tragedy, the glorious, incredible beauty and history of the land. How in the name of God you got some of those shots - the pack horses, the salmon rescue, the moose hunt - unforgettable. Not to mention the intimate shots inside homes, inside the pub, the trucks - I was in awe and in tears. Obviously they all trusted you completely, including the line workers and miners - the mark of a true master of documentary. 

I was just at the Creative Non-fiction Collective’s conference in Banff, and Wade Davis spoke, incredibly movingly, about his new book, "The Sacred Headwaters" - just about this, the Red Chris mine, the new power line, the Tahltan nation. And there I was, inside that world in your beautiful film. It should be nominated for a Documentary Oscar. 

It’s not polemical but at the same time, we get it, what will happen to this land and these people when the land is split wide open. We get everything. 

It’s a work of art. I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart.

Hot Docs Film Festival - KONELINE: our land beautiful

boxoffice.hotdocs.ca/WebSales/pages/info.aspx?evtinfo...

http://www.sacredheadwaters.com

And now I'm going back to bed.

Sam and Drake

I'm looking on this bug - a throat, lungs and general acheyness bug - as a gift. Instead of doing all the busy things I should do today, including the library protest rally and Authors for Indies - I'm sorry, my librarian and writer friends - I have to sit in my house and garden, messing about with my manuscript and editing other people's essays. And reading two newspapers and eating the soup that's in the fridge. In other words, having a wonderful day.

I have just moved the lines of the last page of the manuscript around fourteen times. It's perfect now. Until I read it again.

So in the absence of anything to say - have not watched TV, not read a book since "Patrin," not worked in the garden, gone on a walk, been anywhere, done anything but cough - I will post this for your viewing pleasure. The famous rapper Drake has just put out a new CD with a graphic of him perched on the edge of the C.N. Tower. And one of my son's friends came up with this:

Sam as the C.N. Tower with Drake on his shoulder. Damn that's a good-looking man. And Sam isn't bad either. LOL.

P.S. How can you tell I'm really sick? This bottle of wine has lasted FOUR DAYS.