temporality

"in endowing us with memory, nature has revealed to us a truth utterly unimaginable to the unreflective creation, the truth of immortality... the most ideal human passion is love, which is also the most absolute and animal and one of the most ephemeral." -george santayana

meetings on the street

today, i was walking along, sun shining upon my face, eyes looking brightly up to the blue sky, and i felt it land upon my cheek...it's tiny little feet tickling me slightly, saying a tender little hello. i reached up to greet him...mr. ladybug, first name red. he crawled onto my hand, and i welcomed his intimate conversation as he explored the tips of my fingers. the meeting was brief, like a quick hello with one of your friends on the street...he turned around on my palm and faced me, paused for a short moment sending me farewells...and then he opened his wings and flew off into the blue sky that i was admiring just before we had met each other.

giggles...

heehee, so i couldn't help but laugh out loud and giggle to myself when i opened a little package that arrived in the mailbox today. it was rebound with yellow tape thanks to the customs declaration peoples...silliness.

i love it!

i wish i could have recorded my laughter and smiles and send them back to the sender in an envelope, but when i thought of it, the moment had passed...

the man in the corner

purple sighs

the song for the day, "ruby, my dear" played by thelonius monk with john coltrane...a very purple song for my very purple day.

teardrops for technology

ok...so no i haven't died or fallen ill of some terminal illness. (thinking) well, on second thought, this could be just as bad. last week i spilled a wonderful jasmine green tea all over the keys of my latop. yes---yikes!!! my heart stops even now as i think of the horrible crime i committed. anyhow, the laptop was resurrected for a few brief moments, but now i think it has finally decided to die solemnly...sigh...so, until i can rectify the problem, it appears that i am bound to spend my afternoons wandering and reading under the wonderful golden leaves in the parc. quelle horreur!! please send your condolences for my beloved "buttercup" to my address here in canada...the memorial service will be held monday, october 23 at the moment when i ship it off to that magical place in the sky "toshiba-fix-it-land"...

a moment of breath

thinking of the space between you & me

the burn the maps album

ever have those days where you just cannot help but play a song over and over...for some reason it becomes a necessity for one's one sanity. this is the song of today...i haven't made a soundtrack for my days for quite some time now. today's dreariness and quiet attitude kept me confined to my room today, except for a brief walk around the neighborhood during the dark just moments ago...the streets are quiet due to the holiday nature of today, and i relished in this...to see the houses lit from inside, breathing a different life from the inside than the cold empty shells of the out. i enjoy these evening walks by myself when the wind blows just right to clear my mind and refresh my heart.

"being & nothingness" by sartre

"The lemon is extended throughout its qualities, and each of its qualities is extended throughout each of the others. It is the sourness of the lemon which is yellow, it is the yellow of the lemon which is sour. We eat the color of a cake, and the taste of this cake, and the taste of this cake is the instrument which reveals its shape and its color to what may be called the alimentary intuition...The fluidity, the tepidity, the bluish color, the undulating restlessness of the water in a pool are given at one stroke, each quality though the others."

i wonder what this says about our relations to one another. i know for myself and the majority of my friends, we communicate only via this machine that is under my fingers. does this mean that my abilities to extend my "full" self are limited? to use satre's example --- i cannot eat the color of my friends, nor taste my friends. i am not a cannibal, but there are important notions to remember when we realize the limitations of our own boundaries...hmmm (thinking, thinking, of a small little project for this weekend that can connect us all together...heehee...i think i've got it.)

oh yeah, btw, it's also supposed to be canadian thanksgiving...i don't get it. it's not thursday, and i don't think it has a thing to do with pilgrims. hmmm...weird. anyhow, i'm working so that means no turkey for me.

sense of colour

here are the beginnings of my critical/creative writing essay---the twelve of us are each writing on different "sites" of montreal (i.e. the chinese grocery store, the racetrack, the sidewalk...) which will be compiled like 12 mosaic tiles and published at the end of the semester. anyhow, here is what i have so far...it isn't so good, i know, but i haven't been able to think so clearly because of the cloudy feeling of my stomach...i hope tomorrow goes better since i have to send it to my classmates tomorrow evening:

“In visual perception a color is almost never seen as it really is--as it physically is. This fact makes color the most relative medium in art. In order to use color effectively it is necessary to recognize that color deceives continually. Practical exercises demonstrate through color deception (illusion) the relativity and instability of color. And experience teaches that in visual perception there is a discrepancy between physical fact and psychic effect…This way of searching will lead from a visual realization of the interaction between color and color to an awareness of the interdependence of color with form and placement; with quantity (which measures amount, respectively extension and/or number, including recurrence); with quality (intensity of light and/or hue); and with pronouncement (by separating or connecting boundaries).” -from Interaction of Color written by Josef Albers, 1963

There is a moment in walking, when time stops. It slows down in fact and the tips of the fingers, the taste buds of the tongue, begin to have silent dialogues with the nostrils and eyes. It is in these quiet conversations that our body detaches from the sidewalk it is walking on and engages with the objects around us. The same conversation that detaches our body from that specific place is simultaneously recorded entirely through our body. The following is a dictation of five dialogues of sense overheard on the portion of Boulevard Saint Laurent between Rue Sherbrooke and Rue Rachel:

Situation eavesdrop one: There are 13 on the sidewalk east and another 15 of our brothers on the west. You pass us everyday with little regard. Our skin tastes of metallic, chipping paint. Perhaps you can taste the rust on our square hinges where the men come to unscrew us. We can still hear the ringing in our ears from their visits. The sirens are so loud, but it is all made better when we can feel the coolness of the liquid pressure inside flowing out. When the men visit, it always smells of smoky soot, fire and ash. I wonder if you smell the visits from the dogs on our corrugated shell.

Situation eavesdrop two: Side by side we are set, one atop the other. Pardon the stench of fresh oil-based paint. Someone came along just recently and decided to hide our innate kiln fired clayness. Now, our pores cannot breathe and the raindrops slide down our faces like they do on your slick poncho. Can you feel the softness of the mud from which we once came? Lick the new shiny paint. It is glossy against your tongue where we used to be dull and rough. We know we live in a world where face lifts and nose-jobs are now the norm, but this new resemblance we have been given sounds and feels so plastic. You cannot even see the way our shoulders are linked one to the other anymore because of the prosthetic. We do not taste like the tomato skin we now wear, and do not like the suffocation one bit.

Situation eavesdrop three: Stop! I command all of you. I have the ultimate power, in my circular eye you look back at me with waiting.

Situation eavesdrop four:

Situation eavesdrop five:

Situation eavesdrop one + two + three + four & five = a 3 letter word which smells, tastes, feels, looks and sounds like R E D .

ooooooowwwwww....

ugh...i tried so hard to be good and studious today. i was doing just fine until around 5 o'clock rolled around, and then the world's worst stomachache ever. all i had was coffee from laika...ugh...ooooowwww...i want my mom (sticks her bottom lip out) she used to play with my hair whenever i felt bad. but who will play with my hair now (sigh). just came home because i couldn't stand it any longer, but now i can't sleep either...ow ow ow...and on top of all that it is raining again, with the weather outlook looking like the next 10 days of rain, rain, rain. it looks like my very good day yesterday has been balanced out with the ruining of all the wonderful fall foliage today. (pout pout) yes, i know i'm being whiny, and complaining but my tummy hurts...

pocky is so yum yum

my japan fix for the day

remnants of a good day

there are some mornings when the light comes from within...it is reflected only in mirrors and shadows left on the walls & not by the sun that is hiding behind the overcast sky...it is in the memory of warm sips of tea held within a lopsided, white glass. the 9 degree celsius wind embraced me in a comforting hug that fit snuggly against my body as i walked the streets of mid-morning. it is a strange yet wonderful moment when the sense of time has been lost...and the next thing you know it is already "dix heures cinq" and time to conquer an autumn sunday in october.

"cows are amongst the gentlest of breathing creatures; none show more passionate tenderness to their young when deprived of them; and, in short, i am not ashamed to profess a deep love for these quiet creatures." -thomas de quincey

the rain has stopped, i can feel a good day

highlight #1:

highlight #2:

highlight #3:

just checked my voicemail...the old man of my life left me a message. he said, "hey! this is the pacific ocean! listen----".... and there it was, the sound of crashing waves and blowing wind. a little piece of california transported to my part of north america. the smile on my face cannot be any greater at this precise moment as i can almost feel the sand around my toes.

my ten favourite things to do: (not in any particular order of preference)

*sit for hours on the beach (not just any beach, but my beach)...especially at sunset hours and late into the dark of night, feet buried in the sand and wind in my ears, the light, salty mist upon my face...all the while watching, hearing the waves come and go...come and go
*feeling the warmth of sleeping next to one i care for at night...the moment when you wake up and realize you are not alone, so you snuggle closer holding onto the warmth in case it might disappear
*falling deeply into the world of my sketchbook
*watching leaves change their colors and fall gracefully to the ground...and then frolicking in the fallen-ness
*laying on green grassy fields, allowing myself to become like a cat in the sun as my mind and body slip out of consciousness and into sleep
*sipping on hazelnut soy lattes with dark chocolate in one hand and my eyes fixed intently upon the pages of a good book in the other
*travelling and wandering new places with the eyes of a newborn (this is usually made many times better if there is someone with similar eyes standing alongside and roaming with me)
*smelling the cheeks of my mother
*(thinking, thinking, thinking...ok...so this last thing has yet to be determined...i'll let you know when it comes to mind)

feathered leaves

this morning i thought whimsically of growing orange, red, and yellow feathers (like those of the changing leaves) and then i would fly far, far away. later this afternoon as i was walking home, i found this lying on the sidewalk...for a brief moment, i had to look underneath one of my arms to see if my morning wish had actually come true...

ode to autumn [ j. keats ]

SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river-sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

"mental architecture" to read

the cognitive functions of language

what a strange day to has been...

the day began with strange happenings all around. the water heater fuse blew while i was mid-shower meaning cold, rude awakening for me. then a bizarre jaw lock. finally scrambling out the door, thinking that every portion of the house was out to get me, i was also guided along by some weird encounters. first a note to a very devious robber type was scribed with such politeness, and then imagine, i saw a star that fell upwards! (can you make wishes on those also? or instead do stars that fall up allow you to take past wishes back?) and then the most disturbing sight of all----superman committing suicide! what could possibly have gone so wrong on this day that the men of all men, would choose to throw himself from the window and hang himself? i must say, he is not very smart though and his brain must be the size of a pea because how can superman (who flies!) die by hanging? the hardware store on st. laurent must have been short on kryptonite. as you can see, i am in the mood for creating stories this evening. after a long, hard day of 6 hour theories on phenomenology and perception, i wish to escape my own perceived reality. beside me sits a perfectly round blue cup of china black tea and i wonder for a moment how nice it would be to make myself small enough to sit on the blue edge and look out across the great lake of tea-ness in contemplation and quiet reflection. sigh...yes...i am in a strange mood...but my body hurts today and the mind is in similar condition, so much so that it would be nice to transform into something else. ( l o n g e x h a l e ) 31 minutes battery time remaining...(for a second i wonder if this relates to my laptop or rather to me)...sleep calls to me, but how soon i will answer i am not sure.

gradient feelings

tonight i am tired. the week has already been long and i find that it is only monday. i have been working hard, preparing my presentation on van den berg's book "things: four metabletic reflections" --- the thing that has me tired most though is the thinking, thinking, thinking that this book has caused within my brain. i do not dare scare away such thought or push it from my brain. i had never heard of van den berg before. but now i find that anyone who is measuring/tracking/data-fying/recording things of this world needs to read this. to remember that everything is held within the perception of the individual. i am going to place my notes here...really just a quotation summary from the book. i've tried to make concise the 125 pages of reading down to a simple 4...this way it makes the task less daunting and perhaps more accessible for those who do not have time to search for and read.

on other notes also strangely connected to time and dimension, the days are strange here for me. some days pass quickly, others with a painful slowness. i do not mind my independence and am allowed to embrace it more here than many other places i have lived in the past. i enjoy the small fact that i can go here or there, to drink my coffee in a solitude that i find comforting...it is a wonderful feeling not to have the pressing need for company other than one's own.

lentilles, poivrons, celeri, huile de canola, persil frias, amandes, sel de mer, vinaigre de vin rouge, epices: a recipe for lentil salad

i miss my kindred spirits from time to time. it is nice to hear the comfort of their voices or to receive notes in the mail...so far to date---3 postcards, 1 package, and 1 card received. i do not know why these things seem to have more value over emails...i very well have said, so far to date---55 emails. the other day someone wrote me and told me that "real mail" was preferred, then proceeded to give me an email address by which i could write "real mail" to. since when did "real mail" become email? it is an interesting question and right now i do not have the energy to ponder upon it...but for future thought.

i need to write about thesis...i've finally secured my thoughts about what it should be and narrowed the issues i want to tackle. but until it is set forth in writing, i feel that this concreteness can pass away and be forgotten within moments. by next monday i hope to have done a few sketches and start my thesis blog.

i still haven't gotten a chance to watch all the charles and ray eames dvd's...i have another 2 dvd's that contain 1920's and 30's experimental films, many of which are by man ray and marcel duchamp...i really loved it, especially "l'etoile de mer" by man ray.

i'm officially a caffeine addict again. i didn't leave for coffee at all today, confined myself to the computer and my work for once imposing discipline. by 2pm my head was killing me, so i had to escape across the street and grab a giant coke...within minutes the headache was gone. this is bad. very, very bad.

one of the cats has fallen asleep on one corner of my bed. curled up tightly into a ball of fur. snuggled closely agains the pillow. how jealous i am...jealous of the sleep and the cuddling. i shall go now, with hopes that i can at least fulfill the sleep portion of that wishlist.

saturday wandering on ile st. helene

argh...again one peg down.

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dummy dummy dummy

a funny conversation had on the street between dummy, chef, naked man, woogiebeast, fingerpointer, and old woman...the nun cannot bear to do anything but look on in disbelief as she bears witness to this strange gathering.