I've never stitched photographs before and there wasn't time to learn how to do it for this image - the first 4 are on one side, the 5th is on the back of that paper, and the 6th is on another page (and I'm thinking, with the pencil lines, it must have been a 5 min) - but they make a nice row.
Not sure what to say. Uhhh. There were moments it almost appeared to be. Might come back to this one later, or perhaps rip it out of the Moleskine, or even get used to it. I was thinking about the ways women are remain constrained in our culture and how unfortunately sometimes they seem to enjoy and even get off on those constraints (I might put the ropes around her body back in). And hey, reality is messy, and so is this drawing. Had... a busy day, rushing out now.
iPhone pic, not so good with flourescent light. I'll discreetly update all these photos when sunlight and time to photograph properly becomes available again.
Sure I will not be able to keep this level of intricacy up every day the whole month, but each drawing is one that I would not have done before the InkTober initiative, and for that I am grateful.
The September Gourmet Poetry Salon at Urban Gallery was a wonderful, warm, congenial and über talented afternoon. Many thanks to Sonia Di Placido and Heather Babcock, who featured, Angel Torres, who had two photo paintings in the show, The Art of Food, and who had a cameo spot, and our open mics, Stemond Pardy, Philip Cairns, Norman Allan, Heather Cadsby and Margaret Code. I also did an open mic spot sharing some prose poems on the theme of food.
Some of these photos are video snapshots and some are from my cell - not enough daylight for good photos... but a memento of a lovely afternoon.
A few of the videos (not everyone wanted theirs public, and the camera battery ran out of juice before the last two open mics, Heather and Norman, who said they didn't want video anyway).
Simply a brilliant poet, a beautiful, warm, kind and friendly woman, and an amazingly captivating reading, Sonia Elisabetta Di Placido featured at A Gourmet Poetry Salon and yes, food! Zuppolone, wine...
Her stories and introductions to each of her poems are really interesting. She connects with the audience by sharing explanations, anecdotes, laughter and charm.
1:40 -Zuppolone - Italian Canadians at Table
6:06 -Wine Tasting, after Gertrude Stein's, 'Tender Buttons.' In WWR38
9:33 -Zuppolone - Exaltation in Cadmium Red
11:35 -Doe - WWR38 (Ryerson Journal)
12:16 -Camaraderie - WWR38
13:39 -This Bus Rides North - WWR38
14:39 -American Cliche - WWR38
16:09 -Cadmium Red - Exaltation in Cadmium Red
18:13 -Imaginings -Exaltation in Cadmium Red"
This is a large Moleskine sketchbook and the drawings are hard to photograph. While shooting in direct sun helps, they still requires finicky colour correction. I may post ones taken in cloudy foggy days like today, or with fluorescent daylight bulbs, and then re-take them and slip them into the same spots when there is sun and time to colour correct the images.
What it is, why I haven't blogged in so long, is that my doggy, Keesha, passed away. On September 12th. I planned to do a memorial post on her but am seriously too grief-stricken to manage it. I had no idea that 15 intense dog years, including nursing her for about 11 months, could leave me so bereft. I've stopped howling in the morning when I get up because she is not there to take out, crying when I am having a roast beef sandwich because she isn't begging for some too. Sleep is returning sporadically. It is insane how much I miss her. I try to remember to fill her water bowl every day - for my little cat, Aria, who misses her doggy, I know it. I am trying to do 'our walk' when I haven't walked anywhere else and walking those streets, those blocks with all the memories I have remains hugely painful. Who'd think the love between a human and an animal could be so strong, or so difficult when death comes.
This is the last drawing I did of her... hours before she passed peacefully away in my arms.
This is the drawing I speak to often... yes, it's somewhat distorted, not 'anatomically correct' yet, for me, it is her. When I put my chin on that nose, and look into the eyes, she is there.
Canada Day, July 1, 2014 - she had had such a terribly difficult night the night before that family had gathered to say good-bye... but the next day, here, July 1st, she was almost like her young self again, happy, energetic, playful, for at least that quarter of an hour in the park... she lived another 2 1/2 months because of love, because of love, I am sure.
My shrine of drawings of her last days. That is my son, drawn the night she died.
Her 15th birthday on August 25th
Keesha's birthday cookies being inspected by her kitty, Aria
