talking cat

places I've been

create your own visited country map

ode to the ikefish

These fish were jammed into this fence by Hurricane Ike.

This is my ode to them;

like rumplestiltskin, wrinkled and wasted,
not one hair on the chinny-chin-chin.
a flounder in the fence,
I'm an ikefish,
oh fuck, I'm fucked,
how did it come to this?

my friend over there,
comes complete with garnish,
easy lunch for a skinny cat,
with ribs like twigs,
fragile window slats.

I didn't ask for such a fate,
fuck! I was just swimming around
like nobody's business.
just one more wash of water,
please, oh please.

alice

Well, it's been a while...

But check out this excellent video.

tweaking

I tweaked the contrast on this one for fun (the bug was a pale sage green).


less tweaked, but still tweaked.


14 month old finger tweaking the butterfly.

perverts

I had, for a time, pictures of my kid on this blog. No nudies, nothing weird, just nice pictures so friends and family can see them.

That attracted perverts - as evidenced by the logs, which revealed a Google search that had the words "sexy boy girl babby". Here is the IP information;

Referring Link http://www.google.co.uk/search?hl=en&q=sexy boy girl babby&btnG=Search&meta=
Host Name cpc1-leed3-0-0-cust114.leed.cable.ntl.com
IP Address 81.104.188.115 pervert [Edit Label]
Country United Kingdom
Region England
City Leicester
ISP Ntl Infrastructure - Leeds
Returning Visits

Scum bag.

I have removed all of those posts.

toxic love

With Crassmess coming up, the question of what to get for the kiddies comes up. Tommy the Toxic Tank for little Timmy? Mouthful of Magnets for little Martha? Lead Lozenges for little Larry's stocking? Fun for the Whole Family! Watch Baby's new teeth fall out as Baby stares stupidly into space!

I just had to post this video for a laugh. The Sweet Potatuh is going to get a new wooden spoon and an old pot lid for his presents. Maybe some steel wool and a battery if he is really good.

Have a laugh!

self portrait

I have written before about my artist friends kari and hector rhendindi, and how we send writings (sometimes inspired by spam) back and forth. It's happening again, and this is where we are.

kari started it with a self portrait in beet root and cheese and tomato and no anchovies please and cardboard.

From: kari
To: hector
Cc: dreamroom
Sent: Wednesday, June 27, 2007 5:58 AM
Subject: self portrait

how about a self portrait , she thought.
yeah whatever
get a life , art warrior.
sure as shootin'
there was plenty to beak off about
and perameters had to be drawn
and so did i.
i used an old beet root butt that i found in the compost
and an old pizza box.
it was not too bad of a job
perhaps Andy Warhol may have liked it.
perhaps The Voop von Poop Gallery may want it
for their washroom.

From: "dreamroom"
To: "kari"
CC: "hector"

Subject: Re: self portrait
Date: Wed, 27 Jun 2007 22:33:51 -0700
----- Original Message ----->

cool like the cool blue glass shard
that I found at the new park
which is an old dump
It was near sunrise
or maybe sunset
so I gathered my strength
and cut myself

I dipped a blackberry leaf
into my blood
and painted a twig
I used the twig
to paint a tree
with which
I painted
the sky

but it was blue

I must be royalty

King of the Scoop-da-Poop
Doggy-wag-my-day-care

Jack the Ripper might have liked it

----- Original Message -----
From: hector
To: dreamroom
Sent: Thursday, June 28, 2007 6:52 AM
Subject: Re: self portrait

warm unlike the yellow ice smoked
in doorways of unwanted love
which is the big downtown
in the big sunlight on the big street
I felt small inside my skin

I found a quarter in my lint corner pocket
dropped it on the sidewalk
with the forgotten things
once important enough
to be carried
across any threshhold now defunct

all the people are willing to know me
if only for an exchange
of a recycled dream
once lit up inside the head
of a caterpillar looking for the painted twig
once used to paint a skyward tree.

From: "dreamroom"
To: "hector"
CC: "kari"
Subject: Re: self portrait
Date: 28 June 2007 08:37 PM

from the rocky caterpillar
a cocoon
a chrysalis
and then a moth or spider
with legs like crooked piano strings
and wings the size of Jupiter

what was that light
that burned deep
in the hint of being
of never having been known?
or was it forgotten
in the end of the dream?
out cold on the wet pavements
of uncaring places

and what of that quarter?
what will it buy?
not an elastic sweater
to hold in the weeping heart
as it sags
and goes to sleep hungry
with a feast laid out before it

and still
in the doorways
the unwanted
love only themselves
while others care not for them
with puffs of yellow smoke
and sleight of hand beneath
the ashes and sack clothes
of the wanderers
spread thin again

flowers of a gardener

A few "flowers" in my garden.

eye candy

Just a few random pic's to change things up a bit.

Dried out daffodil in my kitchen window.
Rain drop on bleeding heart leaf
I can't get enough of this cool ruby glass bauble.. .
Grandma's bleeding heart in my garden
Cool, 1950's toy car from Grandma's store. It is in perfect condition.

sense outta nonsense #2

This is Hector's response to the Gargoyle spam -

Clueless with it all, besides the option of using full metal jackets, the Teddybears stayed back looking thinner than ever, so that the space dissolved before them. Nothing had changed, as the floodlights exposed sleeping men rich with poverty tickets ready to marry the Dutchess and impregnate her with incested ideas. Distortion was in mode. A success was easy. The delusion of love clouded the lakes within, rippling down legs like veins pulsating ink. Therapy class was scheduled twentyfourseven as soon as the door opened to the cellar performance where the wine was changed to tea. Some smoked it seeing how it was green. Dave apparently brought it in the side door of the Tivoli while texting on his cell, coffee in hand.

25 minutes later, kari sent this poem -

me dance, Dave do tai chi

the clothes had been flowing & flapping
in the sun and wind
but the wild ride was over now
it was time to unclothespin the clothes
and fold them and put them away
the clothes seemed content
no matter what their circumstance
she looked out the window
at the beautiful gigantic backyard
she wished she was dancing out there
or watching dave do tai chi

and 15 minutes after that -

3 new poems

rhyme & reason
____________

for there is a reason
so let it be had
none of this stuff
can fit in the cab
and ride oh so sweet
past street after street
and cry wolf and baby
to all we meet
and deep into night
ride waves from the hip
and know in my heart
the smell of bullshit
and try as we may
to segue seams
and present and project
our smiling sun dreams
to all the fine saviours
of will filled might
and prissyass prissy's
ass of so tight
if it ain't broken
make it last all night
and speed god dates
take out and take flight
while i look to the left
instead of the right
and thank you to those
who had insight

*
last troika in castlegar
( ode to "last tango in paris" )
_________________

came in your name
wrote of your flame
tied myself
to things of the same
spied me love
and drank its fuel
lost in a knot
that keeps me hot
but found something
that keeps my attention
a wheel for my well
of love retention

*

of this love
________

it is an important love
the hardest kind to see
for it is almost invisible
sure , you could put a few
obvious components together
but it would take more than
tally's and conspiracy affectionado's
to really give a good synopsis
on this love
the calm of this love
the silent claim
of the motherlode of it
the secret pulse
unobvious to most
heard and felt
only by a select few

I followed up with this -

when I had the sun, it knew it,
big in my heart, like a big guitar,
a sound that I could only see.

what came then was stratospheric,
some lyric, some panegyric,
the melody, atmospheric.

I can only wonder.

Lot's more to come, so check back soon.

sense outta nonsense #1

So, I wrote some time ago about a few e-mails that went between my friend Hector Rhendindi and me that were originally inspired by whacky spam that attempted to beat the spam filters by including very poetic nonsense. We used that spam as a basis for more poetic nonsense, and had a lot of fun at it.

Now a mutual friend - kari-kari has joined the fray, and things are "hetting up". Kari is a whacky artist/poet/mom friend who I became acquainted with through my friend Hector (he held William S. Burroughs' doddering old hand). They (Hector and kari) did a great Skin-Up thang for a coupla years, and it was very good. I promised cuts here, and will someday get to that. Really(?)

However, for now, I wanted to include here some random correspondences between us three. They make no sense, while making perfect sense. If you are looking for the wisdom of the ages, you may, or may not, find it herein...

Here is my first (I think) communique with them -

I took the pikcher. I call it cool ruby glass cherry background. I'm going to paint it cuz it's cool dissolving ruby glass cherry blossom weird autofocus aperture shutter speed goofy, and I kinda like it.

Some groovy spam slipped through my defences today. So I wrote something.

Perceiving This...

I don't know about you, but I choose not to Gargoyle,
what, with all the flatulence that goes along with it.

You may have noticed, that the train is never mentioned,
despite my robust objections over that censorship.

I saw kari flying down the road in my head.
She started that thought.
Along came Pippi Longstocking,
with a Purple Heart,
and orange socks.
blurry,
like an old movie,
or an old memory,
or a watercolour in the rain.

And me. I never mentioned Dave.

As the honourable spam below claims,

Perceiving this, as well as the fact that there were no more of the awful bangs to come from the revolvers, the Gargoyles advanced in a swarm as thick as bees, so that the air was filled with them. Again the scene changed, and within a dingy, underground room, hemmed in by walls of stone, and dimly lighted by a flickering lamp, a body of wild-eyed, desperate men were pledging an oath to murder the Emperor and overthrow his government. Fatality was not significantly different Failures were significantly more common with combination therapy Among all trials we found no evidence for any potential prevention of infection by resistant isolates with combination therapy

I will post their various responses over the coming days (I don't want this post to be an epic - though it most likely will become one!).

the cool ruby glass series

I took these pic's of a very nice ruby glass ball that was, at one time, the top of a lamp. I have no idea where the rest of the lamp is, but it must have been beautiful.

I was really just messing around with a new camera, and trying to figure out how to focus manually. Some very nice pic's are the result. I really like the ones with the mountains, trees, and cherry blossoms as background. I am going to paint these because I like them so much.

I particularly like the one where the ruby glass appears to be dissolving in the background of white blossoms. Sometimes (often, actually), the accidental shots are the best ones.

Enjoy.

41 weeks and 5 days, and waiting

Well, babby is almost two weeks overdue, and the waiting is getting crazy. I am a very patient guy, and I don't have a lot of expectations of others, but this is getting whacky.

I was very pleased to be having an Aquarius, but now it will be a Pisces - which I have never been crazy about. They are water, and I am fire... So, a lesson about expectations? I guess so. Interestingly, an acupuncturist once told me that I had too much yang (male/fire) and not enough yin (female/water). Maybe I need some water to cool me down? I don't know, I'm pretty mellow already.

Maybe the message is to throw away the ideology of horoscopic influences? Ya, maybe. It can't matter, because this is my child, and I will love it for the rest of my days. Maybe my fire will warm it's water - which is much more pleasant than cold water. Oops - horoscopic ramblings again.

But it will be born in the Chinese year of the Golden Boar, and that is supposed to be auspicious. I'm not superstitious. I don't think so, anyhow. OK. I am.

We went for the check-ups at hospital yesterday, and babby and mummy are just fine. I think that babby realizes that it is in Heaven, and wants to dream as long as it can. I don't blame it at all. It is in the safest place that it will ever be, after all, but geez, it's gaining about a half a pound a week. Yikes!

Stay tuned...

40 weeks and 2 days (and counting)

Here is J whilst I cast her belly. I did it about two weeks ago, but
I had to get clearance from her to post this publically. She was nude when I did the cast, so I had to photoshop some panties onto her. Now if I could just photoshop the babby in her arms...

Ah well, the babby will come when it is ready. I have been doing a soapstone carving for J of the sheela-na-ig - to give her encouragement for the birthing, but I have been so busy that it is slow going. Maybe it is us who are not ready. Plus, J strained her back on Friday and had to go to the chiropractor. She is feeling much better today, but there is still some residual discomfort. I told her that once the endorphins of birth kick in, she won't be bothered, and the chiropractor confirmed this.

In our pre-natal reading we have discovered that 40 weeks gestation is not necessarily the case. In the beginning of the 20th century, gestation was commonly considered to be 42 weeks. The medicalization of birth has pushed that back to 40 weeks or less. It's become all about schedules - of the medicos, of the working mothers, etc. We want this birth to be as natural as possible.

Induction of labour is more and more common, but as soon as one starts intervening in the natural process, it can (and most often does) create a cascade of interventions - right up to caesarian section. There are non-medical ways to induce labour though. The most simple (and enjoyable!) is intercourse, and nipple stimulation. Human semen has a lot of prostaglandin, and that "ripens" the cervix. Nipple stimulation causes uterine contractions.

So, I'm off to induce labour!

38 weeks

Here we are. J is 38 weeks pregnant.

The above pic' is not J. She is much more beautiful than that. We are going to make a body cast tomorrow (hopefully!). There is no time to waste, as the babby has already dropped in her belly, and she could go into labour at virtually any minute.

We are as ready as we can be. The "crash bag" is packed, we have the kit to collect the umbilical cord blood, my camera is ready - with batteries charged, the video camera is ready - with 5 blank tapes and two charged batteries. We have the baby seat in the car. I have two packs of smokes packed. We have a bassinette, crib, change table, breast pump, contact numbers, e-mail addresses, popsicles (for labour), homeopathic remedies (for pain and swelling), perinial wash tea, babby clothes, money in the bank, no names..., and so much more, and less.

I am putting together music for the labour and birth - I hope to have Maria Callas singing O, mi babbino caro when the babby is actually born. And you wonder why I have not been posting here? I have been up to my elbows in aggravated elephants, and having a hard time making lucid posts every day at my real estate blog. What will happen to it all when the squalling babby arrives?

We know not whether it is a boy, or a girl, but we are both hoping for a girl. I will post here as soon as we know (and I have a chance...).

My apologies to any who have been checking for scintillating and/or salacious details of my life. It's been hard to keep up...

it's been a while...

I've been really busy, and can barely keep my real estate blog going these days (link on sidebar to right), but I wanted to post this video of my 15 month old nephew finding his legs.

He's my sister's kid, and is a cute little gaffer. She is a great Mom, and a great sister.

more of the same

The above pic' is from our last winter storm. Today, we had more of the same.

High winds up to 60 mph blew down more trees, took out traffic lights, closed the Lions Gate Bridge, blew down more of Stanley Park, and brought more driving rain that has now turned into more snow.

And to think that it's the weather that has kept me here for 19 years...

Tomorrow I'm going to have my head examined.

the illusionist

I saw this last night with wifey and babby-in-utero.

I liked it.

J liked it.

Babby had no comment (just a couple of kicks and squirms).

You may like it.

tagged...again

My little (40 year old) sister has tagged me to state 5 things you might not (definitely don't) know about me over at her blog.

OK then...

When I was 12 years old my mother wanted me to be a ballet dancer, so I went and auditioned at the National School of Ballet in Toronto. I was readily accepted, in fact, they really wanted me. My brother started calling me a "fag", and of course, at that age, I did not need my sexuality to be questioned, so I backed out. Instead, I went to a boys' school outside of Winnipeg, Manitoba, where we did lengthy canoe trips (600 + miles), snowshoe runs (up to 53 miles), weekend dog sled expeditions, and did all the cooking, cleaning and maintenance for the school. This time set me up with great inner strength that has stood me in good stead throughout my life.

I have always wanted to be a father - since I was about 18. Now, I am finally going to be a father at 45.

I speak French, Spanish and Portuguese, though I am not fluent in any of them. Spanish is easiest for me. Of course, I am fluent in English.

I came to Vancouver for a two week vacation 19 years ago, and have never left. I met my wife here 19 years ago, but it took us 18 years to get married. We got married last June 21st - our 18th "anniversary", and the longest day of the year.

Everyone is different, but I'm not the same.

Done!