As Steven’s second birthday comes around, I realize that not only is my house needing a good clean, but I’m really behind in my archives. I’m not writing as frequently. I’m at a stand still in a lot of ways. I’m spending hours and hours at the river’s edge. Here it is August 9, 2019 already and summer is whizzing by! I will always look back on this staycation with gratitude. I’ve been through a lot this past year and even some days during summer, I have experienced hardship and sadness as traumatic events lose their crinkles in my heart and flatten out where I can see them. One after another, the memories of dark times are, in fact, smoothed out and my life of nature, art, friendship and love are able to create a blanket over them.
So, it was a fine morning on July 23, when Linda prepared us a nice picnic lunch and we three headed to the lake. This is a year of construction vehicles and diggers and such marvelous observations at the neighbourhood school and on every roadway. Even the back alley holds its charm.
I am grateful for Linda’s friendship and I treasure every special moment I am able to observe the world with my grandson. Summer 2019
At the river, the family of Bald Eagles is observed with great respect and awe. I view these with such love and feel that the narrative of this little family fills a hole in me, a cliche maybe, but I feel it is so and I sort of understand now why people use it. Otherwise, it’s difficult to articulate what goes on when you lose someone special.
While of very poor quality because of distance, I post the photos of the two adults side by side here because these two are the last two photographs I captured of Mr. and Mrs. together. This is their favourite perch.
I was blessed to be asked to guest teach for the entire week in one school. I was so happy to be able to paint with children. It is a joy to mix colours in buckets and to share them with young people. Watching them journey through a process such as this is so gratifying. To pour paint colours straight out of the bottle would never be enough for me! I like to create a palette that sings!
Just a few photographs were collected this week, as most days I forgot my camera.
Grade Ones painted kites on the anniversary of my mother’s passing. I could not help but think of Mom’s spirit…soaring. The children had painted once before with me, so they nailed their technique!
Grade two paintings of hot air balloons…I added red and blue to Tuesday’s palette.
Concentric lines around summer symbols. “When I call SNOWBALL, trade your paint bucket and move to a different spot!” Everything was wonderful until the wind picked our mural up like a kite and flipped it onto its face. Oh well, there was just a half hour left so we headed to the field for some kickball. The red, yellow and white are right out of the bottle and all of the other colours are mixed.
I’ve just purchased my four day pass for this year’s folk festival and so I thought I had better review my archives on last year’s events because the experience was a little different and very special in a number of ways. I just didn’t take the opportunity to sit and reflect on any of it. The program got shoveled into a pile with other papers and I just left the experience to marinate in my heart and my mind. Folk Festival is a special event for me.
For 2015, initially, I had hoped to travel the Trans Canada Highway for a long visit with Dad in Ontario, but as it turned out, after teaching a long contract up until the end of June, Max-man injured his ACL in one back leg and days later, I broke my foot. It was a calamity that sent me into a bit of an emotional tail spin because I was so looking forward to a big road trip. (I enjoy the experience of the Canadian landscape while cranking up CBC radio.)
The difficulties of Summer 2015, however, were not over!
Not much time had passed when my upstairs en suite plumbing led to more chaos and money that I had set aside for travel, ended up being poured into renovations. Crazy! I DO try to find the positive side of events and as it turned out, through the water issues, I met a truly amazing young man, Trevor…such a professional and efficient plumber, on the recommendation of friend, Dino. Trevor went well beyond the call of duty, given his fix-it knowledge and his kind heart. Since then, I have learned so many good pointers from Trevor, where general renovations and handling fix-it problems are concerned.
In the midst of all of this, my daughter said, “Mom, if you can’t go on your trip, why don’t you buy Folk Festival tickets?” I couldn’t imagine it! Okay…well, I was blessed with a walking cast, but I still couldn’t picture getting around the grounds! In the end, though, it all worked out. Every night, I was a little more than tired! I’m grateful to Erin who really did organize our food and snacks, very generously, so that I was basically just responsible to get myself together.
There were some real surprises at Folk Festival…and there always are! Let me see if I can pull up some photographs of my favourites.
We have our folk festival rituals, one of them is to pour over our programs and mark our priorities/mapping out preferences. I love this photograph of Cayley. It has that Folk Fest feel about it! Love the rubber boots! And yes, this was a year that we had to run for it, a couple of times (cover up) and this involved me pulling a plastic bag over my cast.
Musicians that I took in last year included (in no particular order because too much time has passed): The photographs are all mine…I did the best I could. It would be nice if you asked to use them before you use them.
Alright, so anything labeled as a Dreamscape, is likely not really for me. A surreal sensibility in music, for me, is tolerable, but not a preferred experience. I’m posting here, a sampling that is more literal than most pieces. To be fair, one would have to say that the layers are very interesting. I like the percussive layer.
Bombino from Niger A huge ball of energy, life, light and carrying with him, a truly remarkable narrative, Bombino was one of the highlights for me. I guess, classed as World music, one could not help but get up to this stuff and dance. I remember feeling truly inspired by the guy. Much evidence throughout his commentary and his music that he is in the world to create goodness! Highly recommend! I remember feeling this same way the first time I heard K’Naan.
Sera Cahoone out of Seattle, Washington Sera has a big voice for a little girl. Her writing is good. When I heard her, I was thinking that these twangy ballads will take people time to latch on to. But, she’s a solid performer! A lady with a pile of love songs in her heart. A nice voice to have sitting on a workshop stage.
Jennifer Castle; Toronto, Ontario Jennifer spent a good while singing in a basement tavern in London, England and is said to have been influenced by British folk tradition in her songwriting. I guess I don’t know enough about that to really get it. I find her work a bit dissonant. (she describes her music as being unsettling)
I heard her sing this number and liked it a lot.
Kim Churchill; Australia Truth: this guy was just plain handsome…my daughters would roll their eyes at that initial remark, especially since today I turn 61. If I were you and you had a chance to see this guy perform, I would encourage it! I liked it a lot…and I’d never heard of Kim Churchill before in my life! If you don’t take a look at any of the videos I post here, look at this one. He shares some musicality, especially with the strong percussive underlying beat with Xavier Rudd. Kim Churchill probably hates that comparison being made…but, I felt it so I’m writing it.
EMBASSYLIGHTS; Calgary, AB/Iceland I love love loved these guys! I liked that they were such family-people! Demonstrating a versatile knowledge of instrumentation, I really thought EMBASSYLIGHTS was wonderful. Indie or magic-light music, this couldn’t keep you going all folk fest long, but a restful respite on an otherwise-busy workshop stage.
Father John Misty; New Orleans, LA Supposed BIG NAME and a must-see, I saw, but in the end, felt that Father John Misty was such a darned PERFORMER, that it was all SHOW and not enough about the authenticity of the music. Do you know what I mean? Contrary to the content of his biography and despite the interesting things he has done, I didn’t feel it in the gut!
Frazey Ford; Vancouver, BC I had been listening to Frazey Ford’s radio voice for some months before the Folk Festival. She was a must-see on my list. In the end, I don’t know if the sound techs had that stage worked out by the time she performed. I just felt that her big voice with amazing and surprising nuance was not coming through. She has such a quality of voice. I chalk my disappointment up to the venue (main stage) and not to her performance. I just really like her.
Jenn Grant; Halifax, NS Yes! Lots of mellow…chill…music. We noticed that also. That’s why, in the end, there are some people who really stand out! Strong writing and truly beautiful, warm music. Not to be poo pooed.
Robyn Hitchcock; England Here was a stand out for me! I really enjoyed Robyn…saw him on a workshop stage with Buffy Ste. Marie and then again on Main Stage. Really liked him. He had stories and a powerful connection with place. Labeled as a surrealist…his work is innovative and a little unexpected for its character. Confidence, not arrogance, came through in his performances. He felt seasoned. That’s important sometimes. This wasn’t for everyone. lol
Kids Koala’s Vinyl Vaudeville; Montreal, QC Pure entertainment! Kid Koala just had us all in stitches, while also entertaining us with his amazing abilities! This was surprising and very very entertaining! Layers of sound, music and effects. Set way in the back of the early morning workshop group, his creativity and innovation came through! Smiles spread over the crowd!
Lake Street Dive; Boston, MA Such good music! These guys are professional! Listen to this woman’s pipes! Great stand up base!
Leftover Cuties; Los Angeles, CA This was the best workshop stage I attended…a great bunch of people who didn’t mind really jamming. Sometimes people don’t get that approach and don’t cross into other performer’s genres…this was a wonderful stage and the Leftover Cuties were great sports.
John Mann; Vancouver, BC I’m so grateful that I had opportunity to listen to John Mann perform even a few songs on a workshop stage. It was a privilege. All these months later, John has performed his farewell concert and of course, it saddens all of his fans.
Milk Carton Kids; Los Angeles, CA Pure musicality and entertainment. Wow! I really am glad that I had the chance to enjoy these two. They create fantastic harmonies with songs that are well-written! Their transitions and monologues were uber-entertaining!
Oh Susanna; Toronto, Ontario More the twang of a country singer here. Strong voice. Again, a very subdued feel to her performance.
Lynn Olagundoye; Calgary, AB Wow…jazzy…rich…warm. A very beautiful voice. It was surprising to me that this was a voice coming out of Calgary! This workshop stage was so diverse in its styles, there were some struggles where good jamming could happen. I enjoyed the individuals that came through, however.
Petunia and The Vipers; Vancouver, BC These guys also shared my favourite workshop stage. Much fun! Daughter, Cayley, appears in a music video produced by this group.
Buffy Sainte-Marie; Hawaii My sister-in-law, Karen, had joined us on the tarp for some music at the main stage on our final evening. It just happened to be that a friend of mine was leaving early and had been sitting the whole folk festival, on the golden tarp at the front of the main stage. She came to talk to me as I waited my turn for the biffy and offered us the tarp. So…off I went to see one of the most iconic female performers I know of, front stage! I had also caught her sharing a workshop stage, so this was extra special! What can I say? Grateful!
A footnote here, Buffy has the most amazing percussionist ever! I love the guy! If you ever have the chance to truly observe Michel Bruyere, take the opportunity! So beautiful!
Shakey Graves; Austin, TX One of my favourite performers was Shakey Graves! He was passionate about his music, an excellent guitar player and was full of energy throughout his performance! He was a great surprise.
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Sarah Jane Scouten; Montreal, QC Very folky sounding. I’ve got to say, this year, the selection was built for a folk festival. I love well-written ballads performed sweetly. I would have enjoyed hearing more of Sarah.
JJ Shiplett; Calgary, AB JJ shows up on Calgary bills, but I’ve never had the opportunity to see him performing. I’m going to have to track him down. Honestly, I love the rich warm sound of his guitar!
I’m not even going to post a comment about Esperanza Spalding. I really didn’t understand her performance piece and regretted not moving from the stage. It was evening and about supper time, so I just stayed plunked!
The Stray Birds; Lancaster, PA It’s nice to hear from International musicians…to check out what’s happening beyond our borders. I enjoyed the clarity of their music and the versatility of their instrumentation. A very positive feeling to The Stray Birds.
The Strumbellas; Toronto, Ontario A terrific six member band coming out of Toronto, with strong connections in Northern Ontario. Their beats get people up dancing. A very nice energy.
Richard Thompson; England As I said before, it’s a great thing when these festivals integrate some seasoned song writers. Very upbeat and sensational in betweener stories. Lots of humour and great music.
Loudon Wainwright III; Westchester County, NY Another pleasure to watch, for his humour and his experience, Loudon Wainwright III! If you enter his name into Youtube, a hundred titles show up! Quite a song writer and it was really a treat to listen!
Hawksley Workman; Toronto, ON Hawksley was a power house. Lots of energy…he danced and sang across two stages. I really liked this guy. He put on a great show!
Adam Cohen Son of Leonard Cohen, I liked Adam’s work. If you’re thinking that you’re going to hear similarities in his vocals…you’re wrong. Quite a different experience. A fun time at Main Stage on this one.
Oh my, there were others…but, I’m leaving this now.
Yes, indeed! Dawning my air cast, I took in all of this fabulous music and while we were just saying over breakfast this morning, that it was a very chill line up last year, I’m looking at this list and remembering some phenomenal experiences! The thing about Folk Festival is that you are exposed to artists you might not have ever connected with who produce stuff that is MORE than appealing. It was a great folk festival…now that I’ve created this list, I’m going to go back and add some meat to the bones, so to speak.
(Okay….so that was quite an experience of music! 2231 words later!) I hope that my readers have enjoyed the odd bit. I’m not going to be waiting until a year later to document 2016 Folk Festival…so looking forward to it!
Leaning back onto the bed…reading the Introductory comments to House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, Max whined incessantly at my head. I had no idea why, but I thought it might have something to do with his recently favourite toy, Blue Boy. So, in frustration, I said, “No, Max! I’m not getting up to get him…YOU GET BLUE BOY!” Like the trooper he is, he retrieved Blue Boy out of his water dish and proceeded to walk the gamut of the family room with his toy, pouring water, the entire loop of the room.
I rolled off of the bed and hobbled to the closet where I found paper towel and carried on wiping up all of the water and throwing Blue Boy out onto the back deck. Moments of peace and silence can somehow become disrupted even when no one is around.
There are so many layers to be unpeeled in life. The more simple and slow and uninvolved life might seem, the more one discovers in the close-up version of every microcosm.
The little boy went first day of school
He got some crayons and started to draw
He put colors all over the paper
For colors was what he saw
And the teacher said.. What you doin’ young man
I’m paintin’ flowers he said
She said… It’s not the time for art young man
And anyway flowers are green and red
There’s a time for everything young man
And a way it should be done
You’ve got to show concern for everyone else
For you’re not the only one
And she said…
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than they way they always have been seen
But the little boy said…
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
Well the teacher said.. You’re sassy
There’s ways that things should be
And you’ll paint flowers the way they are
So repeat after me…..
And she said…
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than they way they always have been seen
But the little boy said…
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one
The teacher put him in a corner
She said.. It’s for your own good..
And you won’t come out ’til you get it right
And all responding like you should
Well finally he got lonely
Frightened thoughts filled his head
And he went up to the teacher
And this is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen
Time went by like it always does
And they moved to another town
And the little boy went to another school
And this is what he found
The teacher there was smilin’
She said…Painting should be fun
And there are so many colors in a flower
So let’s use every one
But that little boy painted flowers
In neat rows of green and red
And when the teacher asked him why
This is what he said.. and he said
Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen.
I loved words. I love to sing them and speak them and even now, I must admit, I have fallen into the joy of writing them. Anne Rice
“A friend’s son was in the first grade of school, and his teacher asked the class, “What is the colour of apples?” Most of the children answered red. A few said green. Kevin, my friend’s son, raised his hand and said “white”. The teacher tried to explain that apples could be red, green, or sometimes golden, but never white. Kevin was quite insistent and finally said, “Look inside.”
Anon.
Just got back from the off-leash with Maxwell…eaten alive by skitters, but so happy to have been in the sunshine. I love it when my neck starts sprouting freckles…it’s summer! Whoot! Whoot! Stopped at the Co-Op and picked up Quinoa, Tofu and ‘stuff’ for daughter #2 to cook us up a vegetarian dinner. Going to head for the garden…so happy to see the asparagus coming up again this year and Mary’s strawberries are multiplying. Last week, when I turned the soil and added the sheep manure, I ached for a couple of days. I’m expecting the same good feeling this evening. Those kinds of I-haven’t-used-these-muscles-for-a-month feelings are so so good! The day is filled-to-the-brim with great stuff and summer-feelings, that’s for sure!
It was an interesting sleep…I woke up, fully aware of having had dreamtime. It’s been quite some time since I had that wonder-filled sort of sleep. Bits of images, at waking, so vibrant that for a time, I had to sort out the new reality of the day. I saw my mother in the dream, but more-particularly, I heard her voice. It came over a PA system in a huge school. I was in a classroom, separated from her by escalators, elevators, many desks and hallways…but, I heard her voice. I was in a wheel chair. The time on the clock was 2:35 exactly. I was supposed to meet her at 3: 15.
Her voice called out, “If Ms. Moors is in the building, this is her mother. You are late. I am afraid. Please come to the office immediately!” I set out, rolling, dealing with one huge obstacle at a time, frustrated and anxious that so many barracades were keeping me from telling my mother, “Mom, you are ok. You are early. We are not late. I am ok. I am trying to get to you.” I woke before getting to my mother…looking at the dark ceiling of my bedroom…feeling my dog’s hot breath on my face. Max staring down at me, I began to separate the story from the story.
While drinking my morning coffee, I called my father.
John Tjapaltjarri: The Tingari at Pantjantjanya, 1993
