storyboarding house

For the past week or so I've been engaged in an attempt to draw pictures of a few interesting houses and buildings, places that might make it into the background of that mysterious story I sometimes mention. Architectural drawings are just not a strong part of my repertoire - neither are cars, planes, trains, factories, plumbing, and assorted mechanical objects. Nevertheless, the world isn't all flowers, grass, trees, beaches, people and animals, is it? Sometimes we have to try things that are difficult. While I consider a paradigm shifting career change by returning to college to study something useful like marine biology or Sanskrit, or possibly advanced typing (beyond two fingers), I'll show you the little street scene that may appear in a future painting.

Long ago and perhaps even now in some places a building would start out small and as time went by the owners and new tenants would add bits. If it didn't fall down right away they'd eventually add some windows. Now this one really doesn't bear close examination if we're to look at it as a place to live but I rather like the general idea.

Meanwhile, in my attempt to provide you with Olympic level entertainment here's some bog snorkelling from Wales:



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yo ho

This is the Bounty, a copy of the original, one of theTall Ships which have come and gone from Halifax. One afternoon last week we walked down to the harbor to see them and although it was nice getting to see some close-up details, the only really good way to see wooden ships is in full sail. That happened today when they all tittled off to wherever tall ships usually hang their canvas.

We got down to the park about an hour after the parade was due to start and I thought I'd missed the whole show when the only one in sight was The USCG Eagle already far out to sea.

Happily, there were soon more of them sailing through the narrower channel from the city and lots of people were gathered to watch them pass. There goes the Peacemaker.

Next, the Pride of Baltimore - a lovely schooner.

We were especially looking forward the seeing the Bounty under sail and weren't disappointed when she sailed her stately way out of the inner harbor. Much heavier than some of the other boats, she took time to get up some speed but that just meant we could watch her for longer.

The last I saw of Crow was when he flew over and perched on one of her spars as she was heading out to sea. He said he couldn't resist but would be back soon. Me too.
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the fashion heist

I don't know what triggered the memory since it has no significance to anything even marginally interesting, but this afternoon I was reminded of something that happened at my first real job. The summer after my sixteenth birthday I'd been hired as a part-time sales clerk at a large department store in Toronto. Back then this was a big deal for me as it meant I wouldn't be spending another July and August changing diapers, breaking up fights between toddlers, or slinging ice cream cones. To say I was delighted to have a job where I could wear nice clothes would have been putting it mildly. I was a shallow teenager.

The store was one of those giant places that took up a full block - the upscale ladies dress department where I worked was on the third of seven floors. Besides me, there were half a dozen other girls, all of us charged with the duties of encouraging customers to try on clothes and provide sufficient flattery to make them want to buy. Sometimes we rang up the sales ourselves but more often than not, when a purchase seemed imminent, one or more of the ladies of the senior sales staff would swoop in from nowhere and lead the bemused customer away. We didn't blame them because they worked on commission but we did call them the sharks behind their backs. In fact when we gathered at lunch or after work the double-crossing behavior among the well dressed, perfectly coiffed and bejeweled sharks gave us much to laugh about.

One afternoon a pair of young women arrived in the department and began the usual process of choosing clothes from the racks. Since I was closest to them, I carried the dresses, skirts, blouses, jackets, etc. into the dressing room where I hung them on the provided hooks and told them I'd be nearby if they needed different sizes. Over the course of the next hour I ferried in many more clothes, a great pile of clothes, while my friends went off to our favorite lunch spot without me. Eventually, the two women said they didn't need any more help.

Imagine my surprise a short while later when my two customers waddled out of the dressing room looking as though they'd each gained 100 pounds, only to tell me in passing they weren't interested in buying anything that day. I smiled as I said, 'Thank you and please come again'. Then I strolled back into the dressing room and peeked inside just long enough to see that every single hanger was empty and there wasn't a shred of clothing anywhere.

I thought about carrying all that stuff.
I thought about missing the fun we always had at lunch.
I thought about those two women treating me like an idiot.
I picked up the phone and told Security to meet them at the door.

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gone baroque

If anyone has wondered about my slightly longer than usual recent absence, I present the above photograph as a perfectly reasonable excuse, and one instantly to be recognized by any reader who has found him/her self caught up in Neal Stephenson's 'Baroque Cycle'. The three volumes, at about 900 pages each, were originally published in 2003 and 2004, and that was when I read them last. I've always intended to repeat the experience, thinking they'd come in handy for some long, dark winter evenings, but a few weeks ago at the beginning of our current heatwave I found myself drawn to the shelf where they've been sitting, picked up 'Quicksilver', and dove in. What a refreshing treat it was.

Taking place roughly between 1660 and 1715, The Baroque Cycle covers a period in which many of the foundations of our world are laid down. Things we take for granted now, like science, mathematics and currency weren’t obvious as our culture stepped away from the dark ages. What Stephenson did  is to take us through a period rich in intrigue, discoveries and innovation to show where the system of our world comes from.

There are three main fictional characters who drive the novel - all of whom could well be described as larger than life personalities. The first one we meet is Daniel Waterhouse, an eminent Natural Philosopher, member of the recently established Royal Society, and close friend of Isaac Newton. As the story begins we find him at his recently established Massachusetts Bay Colony of Technologickal Arts (circa 1714, in a log cabin). The second main character is Jack Shaftoe, (known as Half-Cocked Jack - you must read to find out why) an English vagabond who by chance takes up with the Polish army at the siege of Vienna, meets and kills a Janissary, and in the process rescues the third character, a young slave girl from the oddly named island of Qwghlm, a fictional place that resembles the Outer Hebrides of Great Britain.

Through the course of the books, these fictional characters interact with all sorts of famous historical figures, from Newton and Leibniz to Kings (James II, William III, Louis XIV), Queens, Electors, a young Ben Franklin, Peter the Great and John Locke, just to name a few. Their extraordinary adventures take them across Europe, the Middle East, India, the Americas, and Japan. There are thrilling pirate, naval and ground battles, political intrigues, poisonings, and sword fights. Amazingly enough, the history described is extremely accurate as I discovered while doing follow-up searches about specific topics that interested me as I read.

I admit I have a few nerd-like tendencies but even more I love to be entertained while being educated. I read an interview done by the Guardian shortly after the novel was first published and it appears Neal Stephenson has views about teaching that would be nice to see enacted:

'History is dull unless there's a yarn in it. A yarn by definition has to be about a small number of individuals who are in some kind of an interesting situation. It is, therefore, a rather fine-grained kind of history. But history teachers in schools are not allowed to teach that way. Instead they are told to teach a class called something like "The Ancient World" or (in this country) "American History." And this makes it impossible for them to teach at the fine-grained level of individual yarns; it filters out all the interesting content and leaves only the dull stuff. If I were running a school I would begin by chucking all of those courses into the dustbin. In place of "American History" I'd have the kids read Cabeza de Vaca, or a biography of Jim Bowie.'


You may have noticed there's another of his books in the photo, 'The Cryptonomicon'. It was written before 'The Baroque Cycle' and takes place during WWII and our era but the research done for it inspired the larger book. This time I'll read it second.

.. and I'll try not to be gone so long.
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Have you read anything interesting this summer?

Crow's got game

Crow here. I must admit to feeling a bit ruffled after my last long flight. I'd just returned from an extended sojourn in the South Seas and had been hoping to spend some time continuing to dictate my memoirs to susan - she of the pen wielding skill. Then what should occur the very next morning as I was settling on to the perch in my library but an urgent message delivered by one of the local pigeons. It was a summons requiring my immediate presence in London to meet the Queen. No, not that Queen but the other - the older, wiser, and far more regal Queen of the Pigeons.

I had understood that many birds and other animals, including some well off humans, had been planning to leave London for the duration of the 2012 Summer Olympic Games that will begin at the end of the current month. What I hadn't been aware of is that London's pigeon community and far more humans have been given no choice but to leave the city they call home because of the games.

It is expected that there will be 900,000 Olympics-related visitors in London during the games, on top of the usual 1.5 million tourists that typically arrive in the capital every August. Private landlords are seeking to make a financial killing as there are only around 110,000 hotel rooms in the London area, with almost a third of those already allocated to Olympic personnel. Many hotel rooms have been booked for months and even for years. This means that landlords have been evicting renters at very short notice so they can charge visitors huge sums for short term accommodation in July and August. Even the Queen's Royal Roost at the summit of Big Ben has been commandeered for film crew use and she has had to relocate her court to the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. It's a nice enough spot but she would have preferred a place closer to Trafalgar Square where she can keep her majestic eye on the rowdy young pigeons who like to steal sandwiches from unwary children.

Like clockwork every four years the Olympics take place in a different city somewhere in the world. Humans may not be able to fly unaided by technology, nor can the swiftest of you run like jaguars; I probably shouldn't even mention human strength is nowhere near that of an elephant, but overall physical competition is a good thing. What isn't beneficial is throwing poor people out of their homes simply because you need the property for a traveling circus. This seems to be something of a habit. When Beijing hosted the last summer Olympics thousands of people were relocated as neighborhoods were razed to make space for Olympic games venues and housing. Home owners were compensated but renters were simply displaced. Rio de Janeiro, scheduled to host the summer Olympics in 2016, is already undertaking the demolition of several favela communities in order to provide space in that city.

Now as I've mentioned before, I believe the games are great - it's wonderful to see people exercising rather than running around killing each other (or us) but what I can't help but wonder is why there can't be a permanent space where the summer Olympics are always held? The games date back to 776BC where they were always held in a little town in Greece called Olympia. As you can see from the picture there's lots of open building space there now and goodness knows the Greeks could use the money that would certainly pour into their economy. Why not?

I haven't talked at all about the winter games but I'm sure you might have some ideas about a country whose climate is permanently cold. Considering global warming, somewhere in Antarctica might be best for the near future at least.

Well, soon it came time for me to leave London and as I bid adieu to my Peerless Pigeonate, I was happy to reassure her that the rooftop missiles surrounding the London Olympics will not be aimed at her people but will merely serve to motivate the athletes.

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jubilant july

No, I didn't take this picture but it was such an amazing close-up of a very common summer flower I just couldn't resist sharing it. Did you know almost all dandelions are clones? They're most certainly the bane of gardeners and the delight of children. Dandelions have been famous among children for a very long time. What little girl has never used a dandelion 'clock' to tell the time? What little boy has never kicked the head of one (or a dozen) to watch the seeds fly away? If you know of any who haven't then those children should be encouraged to get out of the house more.

Yes, here we are with high summer blooming all around us and the two major North American summer holidays on the way. Tomorrow is Canada Day and next week will be the Fourth of July. Here's a celebratory video sent by a friend that I'll post in honor of both:



Crow will be home for the festivities and he's bringing another dear friend with him. The more the merrier when it's Fireworks time.

Good weekend to all.. and I hope it's not too hot where you are.
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ps: We've been here for nearly two years and have never once heard anyone say 'you hoser'. I wonder if it's become unfashionable?

halifornia dreaming

Believe it not there are a few intrepid business owners here who post signs in their window displays that actually use the word Halifornia to mean Halifax. Now I wouldn't have you believe anything is particularly bad about this nice little city that's generally very well cared for (a 13% sales tax rate and high property taxes do wonders for the various municipal services) but California it is definitely not. I spent more than 17 years living on the west coast of the US and had enough chances to see that fabled state to know this city is nothing like that place. Look wherever you like and you won't find a movie studio, a Hollywood starlet, a Golden Gate Bridge, or a Disneyland. No grape vines either. Nevertheless, when the summer sun shines it's a pretty enough place as you can see from the picture above I took one afternoon last week (zoomed a bit); the very next morning we awoke to mist so thick I couldn't see the balcony rail from three feet away.

Here's another one taken from the same spot this morning and what we have here is a genuine Atlantic fog and not the smog that often obscures LA. California is a lovely state that has its share of man made problems while Halifax (and Nova Scotia in general) simply don't have the kind of climate and landscape to attract 36.5 million people. In fact the entire population of Canada at 34 million is noticeably less than that figure. Perhaps those store owners should just show a bit more honesty in advertising and change their signs to say Halifog. Then again, that might not encourage tourism.

I came across an interesting story on the BBC this morning about the world's first multinational corporation and its monopolization of the spice trade:

Just as corporations today seek to monopolise plant genes in the developing world, the Netherlands United East India Company (Voc) set about seizing total control of spice production. In 1652, after displacing the Portuguese and Spanish, the Dutch introduced a policy known as extirpatie: extirpation. All clove trees not controlled by the Voc were uprooted and burned. Anyone caught growing, stealing or possessing clove plants without authorisation faced the death penalty.
On the Banda Islands, to the south - the world's only source of nutmeg - the Dutch used Japanese mercenaries to slaughter almost the entire male population. Like Opec today (and Monsanto etc.?), the Voc also limited supply to keep prices high. Only 800 -1,000 tonnes of cloves were exported per year. The rest of the harvest was burned or dumped in the sea.

Somehow, little Afo managed to slip through the net. A rogue clove. A guerrilla plant waging a secret war of resistance. Afo would eventually bring down the Dutch monopoly on cloves. In 1770, a Frenchman, appropriately named Poivre, stole some of Afo's seedlings. This Monsieur Pepper took them to France, then the Seychelles Islands and, eventually, Zanzibar, which is today the world's largest producer of cloves. A clove tree planted from the original seeds still stands today half way up a volcano on Zanzibar where it grows as a symbol of the ultimate folly of empire - and the stubborn refusal of nature to be controlled.

Maybe I'll like cloves better from now on.
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westward Crow

Since I have nothing much else to share with you this evening I thought you might enjoy reading a postcard from Crow that came in the mail today:

Greetings, my dear susan,

I know you're not likely to credit this but according to a most remarkable rumor I heard recently, the states of N. Carolina, Texas, and Virginia have passed laws outlawing (virtually commanding) the sea level not to rise. Naturally, that made me wonder if the sea level does rise in those states will the sea be arrested? Will it be read its Miranda rights and be locked up in the local hoosegow prior to a trial? Will use of a mop be considered inhumane treatment of a prisoner? Who will form the jury of its peers? It can't very well be made up of the major US rivers since even the most enthusiastic members of the Tea Party must understand that calling to jury duty the Columbia, the Colorado, the Pecos, the Mississippi, the Chattahoochee (love that name) and their ilk would be a serious conflict of interest. Perhaps they'll call on some of my ocean dwelling friends but after the Gulf of Mexico oil disaster most of them refuse to go near American coastal waters these days.

In any case it should be quite entertaining when the M$M spends hours, days, weeks, and possibly, months covering that trial. I may need you to send me an extra case of Remy as I anticipate a rather more powerful than usual urge for drink. Come to think of it perhaps you could send some leeches too as I think I might require a good bleeding. It appears I may have a toad or a small dwarf living inside me that is upsetting my bodily humours for surely that rumor couldn't be true.

Affectionately yours,
Crow

Now I'll have to see about transforming this charming picture into something a bit more colorful to add to his collection.

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downwardly mobile

Rather than drawing or painting a new picture, I decided to post an old one (hoping you'll excuse me) partly because I haven't had time to draw a new one that's pertinent, and second, because in the not too distant future I'll get to see this one hanging on a wall somewhere in our new place. Yes! We finally found a new apartment, so the stuff that's stayed packed away in traveling cartons while we waited out this*, that^, and the other thing# will be out on display again. I don't want you to think we've been living without furniture or the other necessities of life like books and movies, but we do have far more cardboard boxes than are typical.

* this - It took a lot longer than we ever expected to get an authorization for numb to be accepted as a resident in Canada. More and more, there are things you're allowed to do that are much more difficult to accomplish in practice.

^ that - Since we hadn't heard from Immigration by last June we had to stay here for another year. Believe me, it's really best not to change your address while waiting for a government agency to come to a decision.

# the other thing - It's a law in NS you must give the landlord three months notice. Fine. Many students leave in late spring. Good. More apartments are available in the summer here than there are in the fall. Great. All we had to do was find one.

That's what we've spent the past couple of months doing. Yes, we're picky but more on the side of having something nice to look at out the windows rather than wanting a dishwasher or our own personal washer and dryer. Even though a car is a requirement sometimes, it's also undeniable it's preferable to be able to walk where you need or want to go. So we signed the lease today and will be moving at summer's end to a new apartment that's almost as spacious as this one with fewer yet bigger rooms. Instead of living on the 7th floor of a 23 story building we'll be on the 3rd floor of a 7 story one so I won't get dizzy while standing on the balcony. Plus, it's only two thirds of our current rent.  Now we'll be able to plan for some summer fun. It also means I'll have more time to focus on drawing and writing that story I keep boring you about.

Meanwhile, here's another very cool (and short) video from Vimeo:


not over from Toru Hayai on Vimeo.


(Perhaps more frequent blog posting too)
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storybored

I've been continuing to draw pictures for a story that seems less likely to get written with each passing day.  Back in March it seemed like it would be a fairly simple process to write then illustrate a post apocalyptic tale about a young girl and her dog who go in search of something that will save the world. Now I'm not so sure. Well, actually I am sure and it's not just that I'm not a confident writer of fiction.

The good news is that I have a number of ideas for paintings sketched out that I'll be able to work on in the future. Maybe each one of them will tell its own story.

Is it just me or has the Blogosphere gone generally quiet these past months? Have more of us moved to twitter or is there a really good book everyone is reading that I haven't heard about?

Meanwhile, if you need some immediate entertainment here's something that's fun:


Heavenly Appeals from david lisbe on Vimeo.