Another year, another IFOA. (You can read last year's highlights here.) This year was similar to last year in a lot of ways. I went with Teri to some things, we had sushi to eat, it was even raining like last year. Here are the highlights: - Saw Margaret Drabble being…
Among the very large collection of phonograph records which the Library maintained were perhaps a hundred which Mr Kelso called his Horrible Examples. These were pieces of music which he despised, sung or played by people whose manner of interpretation he despised ... It had taken Pearl a long time…
- The lake in the distance, shining too brightly in the sun. - An old white serving/casserole dish of my parents' that I remember admiring even in childhood. - Three red apples inside said serving dish. - My dog, laying sideways in a patch of sunlight. - A Christmas photo…
Some small sound will wake me - my dog taking a stroll around the apartment, the curtains snapping in the breeze. I used to get frustrated, but now I find a strange ease in it. It's my time to research things I've been thinking about, work out story ideas, make…
To me, the most beautiful sound of all the sounds is the Finnish language. It sounds like a steady rain on a pile of firewood. It sounds like birch trees and the bluest lakes and wood fires in the snow and I want to be part of it so desperately.…
When the lights don't come back after an hour, I start to grow anxious, imagining the worst (it appears prolonged blackouts have had that effect on me since 2003). And then there are reports of flooding in Toronto, which make me doubly anxious after the terrible floods last month in…
Common grackle. Red-winged blackbird. Cardinal. My favourite sounds, the sounds I remember from childhood camping trips, from walks around the neighbourhood, from lazy dreamy days. I note their return almost suddenly, just before dawn. My eyes open in the dark and I'm in mid-thought. I hear the birds outside, fluttering…
Recently I transfered a few old home movies from VHS to digital files to send to my brother in Germany. We discuss them over Skype, telling each other to go to a certain time marker and pay attention. What do you notice? What did that mean? Was this how you…
The air bites and stings. I wrap my face in my scarf and tuck my head down against the wind. But later, inside, the sun burns in through the windows like summer. And I’ve been wishing for summer lately, despite myself, despite my nature. I don’t remember the humidity, the…
