Tuesday, July 29, 2008

I saw a snake!

I did my afternoon of stair cleaning at the cottage. This time I did the front entrance (the wood steps). And then went down until I reached the storage room. What I basically do is rake, get rid of autumn leaves, get rid of grass and wild herbs. I was a bit tired, especially of the black flies. I had repellent on but it wasn’t enough.. they found my unprotected spots. It is the buzzing what “bugs” me the most.
I then trimmed my head’s hair a bit with the machine. Just the sides as I looked like a patriot. Swimming comes next but when I got down to the lake I thought I should go for a pedal boat ride. The lake was calmed like a pool. The rock looked inviting. So I pedaled with the sun on my back. The temperature went up to 26 today. I got to the rock. I tied the boat to a ripped orange rope that was hanging from a tree, jumped into the water and swam to the area where it is easier to access the diving part of the rock. I was all excited like a little kid who’s exploring a mystery island. I went up as much as I could barefoot and checked the boat, I was afraid the orange rope would not be strong enough to hold it… but it was there waiting for me. I then heard the grass move. I am used to the sound now because I hear chipmunks all day. It was a snake. Black and yellow, rather long, sticking its red tongue out. I found it amusing but a bit scary. I wasn’t sure if it was poisonous, it may not be, but I didn’t want to try… I jumped in the water right away. It felt great… and I wanted to try it again and again. I went on the rocked and walked up. I saw the snake rolling down again. A bit closer to the bottom of the rock. I would say it was close to a metre long and middle body rather thick. Thicker than the rope that tights the pedal boat. I didn’t feel like seeing it again so I jumped from a higher point this time. Swam a bit, got on the boat and swam back against the sun.
Lovely. Today I’ve seen a wood pecker, a beautiful blue jay and a snake . There was something in the water on the way back but I couldn’t see what it was because I had the sun in my eyes. It was on the surface for a while and the dived in and disappeared... Share

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Friday, July 25, 2008

Summer shower

I hear this whispering sound of leaves being blown by the wind. But there is no wind. It is a sunny day, birds are singing, there is no sign of disturbance. And suddenly the rain. Out of nowhere. Full. Thick. Steady. Falling over the trees... refreshing… watering the flowers on the front deck. I sense there is a cloud over the house. Like in the movies… it only rains in that one area where the scene is happening. I am part of this bucolic scene. And I am imbued in it with its magic but protected under a roof. It pours freely. It stops, leaving a transparent mantle on every flat surface. And then the wind. It must’ve blown the grey cloud away. It will do its trick elsewhere. Share

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Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Devon



My Devon is a growing gentleman. He's come a long way... he can reach altitudes now and jump and swim in this world that has challenged his path with tremendous obstacles. But he's managing thanks to his inner determination and his new family environment (where he's taken care of, understood, supported). We went swimming last weekend and crossed the pool a couple of times. He can dive into the deeper side and knows every life guard at the community centre. He proudly introduced me. Also gave me some of his drawings, a math text with excellent results and told me he had drawn his family and home including me. More than I could have ever expected. We met in August 2005 and have been "big brothers" since. I'd love to take him to Ottawa someday and do a few rode trips with him as he gets older. He reads and writes now so it is easier to communicate. When I told him I wanted to go for my doctorate degree, he said, he too wants to become a doctor. I pray for that day!

 
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The Joke...

... a very serious thing! His first novel.
Reading Kundera again is going back to my own origins as a writer. His pedantic knowledge and the singularity of his characters fascinate me. Love stories full of political sense and existentialism.  Happy to see commonalities with my latter story... a man who returns to his native city after years in some kind of exile... and an allegory of history... as a role player. I am lacking "the love element" in my tale... and I should be inspired by my own love story... that inner light that is shinning through my eyes. My book marker is a photo of S on that Thai boat that took us scuba diving around Phuket. When I look into those eyes I see a universe that knows no limits.
It's time to go to bed.
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Tuesday, July 22, 2008

It's over

"Happiness is finding another world to live in, a world where you can forget all this poverty and tyranny. Happiness is holding someone in your arms and knowing you hold the whole world" Orhan Pamuk 

1:38AM I just finished reading Snow with tears in my eyes.
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Thursday, July 17, 2008

Naked Truth

Wreck Beach is a cult. It would be easier to sell Vancouver away to corporations, including the Olympic Games, and to all those international real estate investors than to close down this nudist paradise. It smells of pot, mushrooms and booze. Any kind of prejudice is gone when you put your underwear away. It’s got its own rhythm: the alpha males doing dirty work, the feminist carrying statements on their privates, the vendors with an infinite variety of products, the old, the homeless, the fat, and the kinder. Not everybody goes there to show off, but there’s a bit of chauvinism in those who pass by you jogging. It is impossible to feel intimidated though, when you are also part of the big zoo.

Just going up and down the well-maintained staircase is worth the effort. I loved it! That ocean breeze visiting untouched spots, the image of that Asian elder wearing a bathing suit (or should I say parachute) up to his diaphragm; the shaved ones, the tattooed, the shy ones, the curly woman who cuts hair or gives massages, the blond model holding her stilettos, the guy on a blackberry conference call, the couple flirting, the chubby girl that screams “finally free”. What a morning! Too bad I was burning… otherwise I would’ve stayed for the concert night. A huge pilgrimage of wreckbeachgoers was arriving as I left the borders of that ecosystem. And yes, tourists come to take pictures. As I hit the street, a group of six “un-tanned” Korean girls asked me in broken English where the wlek bitch was! Follow the crowds, I told them as I pointed my finger into the bushes… Share

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Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Metastasis of Thoughts

The moon had given up on me. My tides became arrhythmic. My zodiac sign found me no longer predictable. I was abandoned to my own faith as if no god felt the need for my prayer. My sacrifices were in vane. Nightmares were black flies all over my orifices. Left alone to choose I went blank. It was easier when the future was foretold. I could effortlessly see when my action was a sin. I could beg forgiveness and plead a second chance. But the internal voices have vanished. Destiny is no longer the wind that blows my boat. A universe of possibilities is pouring rain of stars. I ought to decide. Swim to the bottom of my core. Hold my breath. Opt amongst that cosmos of potential actions. There’s no crime, there’s no judge. Everything is feasible. The door is open to this infinite garden where the sweet and the bitter, the poisonous and the sour grow. I am to sow, collect and feed my soul. At times I wish I was told what to do so I wouldn’t have to be the master of my emotions. But I’ve been freed and freedom is the scariest thought. A borderless outline is a blank canvas with no frame as boundary. I am to paint with my own colours. I am to draw the picture and pull it out of its cave. Share

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Sunday, July 13, 2008

Unwritten Poems

Poems marinate in hope.
The morning has been shining like a lost mirror in the grass. I sneeze intermittently and it feels endless. Dirty plates are sitting on the table from the night before. I blow my nose and wish the day had started earlier. I overslept. I am waiting for an unwritten poem to descend from heaven or ascend from hell into my brain. I haven’t written poems for a while. I was told I wasn’t good. But reading about Ka and how poems visited him, I remembered how they used to visit me when I was unaware:

I burn the edge of a thread of hair
It curls and smells
It sparkles and lights
It sounds like a drop of water
sprinkled in hot oil Share

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Friday, July 11, 2008

Vancouver

Days in Vancouver smell of tangerine, herbs and sea breeze. Nights spread azalea and yeast aromas. I like the rainforest, the greenery it provokes and the sempiternity of Spring. The humidity it craves, the ecosystem it forces or sustains. The mountains that not only make the dull prairies abrupt but also retain the clouds that turn into rain and into life. It is the best temperature in the country and this atmosphere enlightens the lives of many who seem happier, fitter and more relaxed. In Vancouver you are greeted, talked to, acknowledged. The growing architecture is mixing with a blend of nationalities. There is a surprise waiting for you in any corner. It's got its flaws, of course... but as it isn't a pretentious place it may recognize them sooner than later. It's become expensive, a bit exclusive of its own but it's got all the potential I haven't seen in any other city in recent years.

Therefore, my days in Vancouver have been bright. I've gone through the hassles that brought me here. My first week has gone by. I feel relaxed, connected, fulfilled. I should end this night with an acrobatic orgy at Cirque du Soleil. Greta and David will join me. At a sunset on Kits' beach the other night, I thought that dusk looks even better when you return. We take for granted the seagull flight or the friendly smile until is gone. I will continue to worship this city until it proves me wrong. Share

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Thursday, July 10, 2008

I am a rat

I am a rat. A water rat. Deserted in the West and praised in the East. A rodent of sewers, a wise animal. When An Min gets on the car he tells me: You are 36, you must’ve been born in 72… you’re a rat. Yes, I confirm. Don’t know much about it… but I do know I am rat.. Sleazy and tactful… I can smell raw flesh miles far. You’re wise but stubborn, he says… and you’ll have money some day… focus… stay focus! Hard for me. My mind always goes in every direction. What else? I ask. Wear green, and blue… or beige… it’s safe. He goes on to talk about other elements of my sign. His accent needs concentration and I loose it at times. I go off to the wealth I would gain some day. A lot of fortune tellers have predicted it; I don’t quite see it yet. I see myself full of resources… I’ve done more than I ever thought possible, I’ve been to places far, far away… but… I often struggle to reach that state of balance… but, I’ve found love… and it is my source of inspiration.

My neck is sore. I stretch it throughout the drive while Min goes on. He’s a PHD student at Ottawa U: economy. He’s got a Masters in Physics and a bachelor in Math. He must be smart, he should be rich… he’s humble. An Min’s wife and three kids live in Toronto. An Min lives in Ottawa… he has for the past ten years. I don’t ask about his arrangements… it’s not my business. He tells me that his son, 16, is great in math. Vietnam is still a patriarchal society. The father owns the wife, his kids and his kids’ kids. When his father died, his mother became the head of the family so she owned Min until he got married. Then he freed himself and owns his family. He’s a great mathematician and must know a lot about economy, but is his wife who handles the money at home. It is tradition he says, we men don’t know how to deal with it. I give her money, she gives it back to me when I need it. He must’ve married when he was in his early forties. He’s 58 now… born in 1950… a rooster. He was imprisoned and learned how to work with wood. He escaped communism. First to Indonesia, soon after Malaysia and Singapore, then Canada. Here for 20 years. A Canadian citizen. Wow, I understood all that! His voice became familiar as the highway 416 brought me to the 401.

He’s brought two kinds of bread for me to choose: Red bean or coconut? I go for the latter… I must have palm tree sap running in my blood. He’s had a hot dog stand... he's seen it all. Veteran of the war, dislikes the Americans, does not hate them… but hopes they pay. They are paying for their sins in a way, I say. He’s a catholic, he knows about sins. Vietnam, a colony of France in times of Indochina. Threatened by China but never feared them. Destroyed by the Americans but holding the pride of having defeated them. Vietnam, a growing nation with fantastic Pho. An array of beliefs and religious syncretism. I believe in God but not in religion, he says… Nevertheless, he knows the Catholic church across from my building in Ottawa. It used to be Vietnamese, but they overgrew the temple… they sold it to the Koreans. I don’t like this Pope, he sighs… he’s too human… and he visited the enemy in Washington. How could he? After all the killings in Iraq… Benedict didn’t condemn it… he’s after power, not with the poor.

I posted an ad on Craig’s list looking for a travel partner. Min emailed me. I charged $40. He bargained; wanted to pay $25. I settled for $35… the price of gas is high. I used to fill iup my tank with $40, then $50, now almost $60. $50 takes me to Toronto. $35 was a good deal… though, when I dropped him off at the Eaton Centre in downtown TO I felt guilty. I should not charge you, I said. He smiled and left. He will email me again and invite me for a vegetarian dinner. I would bring the wine. Share

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