another year....

Well, I'm winning the fight over the post-fest cold and blues.
It was a great weekend in all- some of the BEST music to date. And the workshops that ran were all really well attended. We joke about people converting to the cult of SVFF... but it's true, the community wins people over.

Here are a few review/links

http://andthehitsjustkeeponcomin.blogspot.com/2010/09/shelter-valley-folk-festival-2010-we.html

http://http://www.facebook.com/Elbowmarie#!/video/video.php?v=465499515378&ref=mf

http://www.facebook.com/Elbowmarie#!/album.php?aid=527737&id=695855383&ref=mf

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sheltervalley

too lazy to embed them in something pretty today.

Last year I felt like I was too busy and missed the festival. This year I was busier, but calmer- I felt like I knew what I was doing, and knew (somewhat) what to expect. The difference in attitude made a huge difference. I even went into it knowing full well of my tendency to control every piece- and fighting my urges... allowed things to unfold.
My internal dialogue chanted "in a hundred years, it's not going to matter- people won't notice if all the paint brushes weren't in matching containers, or that the workshop speaker didn't do x, y,z... all that will remain is a blip on wikipedia (if that still exists). An entry that will read "Shelter Valley Folk Festival was (is) an incredible space, a leader in the push for community, arts and fine music."
That little pep talk changed everything.
Even when the weather got so bad, so dangerous, that we had to close down the villages.

villageS.

all of them.

sigh.

I'm sad about that. Sad that all the hard work from the past year was just shelved. And there really wasn't anything we could do about it. One of our artists lost $2000 in pottery to a gust of wind that knocked over one of her shelving units. The stage in the family village got knocked down in the wind, the tents started to come apart... making the whole space unsafe. We closed that area down for a few hours, then ran partial programming outside the gate in the main field... children hula hooping to the main stage music.. it was beautiful with the clouds racing above them.... The main village tents had to be torn down- after searching the county for extra re-bar and rope- it wasn't enough. The tents couldn't take the strain of the wind. So we made the decision to take them down, rather than lose them or risk injury.

This year I feel like I've grown into the role better- I made decisions and asked people to support me in them.. rather than stand there helplessly as things happened around me. So I feel really good about that. I'm just waiting for the sadness... grieving? to pass.

More Art

This is a post by the lovely Tanya Davis,

If you're interested in participating, you can send her your answers...

Sadness Survey needs you

Share

Thursday, October 22, 2009 at 11:29am

I think a lot about sadness.. the happy kind, the tragic kind, the vulnerable kind... I write about it, too. And sing about it. And I talk about it... sometimes. Because people don't always like to talk about sadness. Why not? I don't know. So, I'm exploring that and I;m exploring sadness in general - an alternative research project, so to speak. I'm going to include some of my findings in an audio piece I'm making as a participant in the Centre for Art Tapes Media Arts Scholarship Program. It's somewhat of a docupoem.

So, if you want to take the time to answer some of my questions, that would be quite wonderful. Any of your feedback that I end up including in my audio piece will be anonymous (although I don't know how to make your comments on my note anonymous on facebook and only for me to see.. if you want to answer the questions but don't want others to read your answers, please feel free to write to me in a provate message). And I will only be using bits and pieces of what I can collect here, in a sound mosaic.

Les questions:

1. What is sadness?

2. What does it feel like?

3. What makes you sad?

4. What do you do when you're sad? Where do you go? Who, if anyone, do you talk to?

5. Do you find sadness easy to talk about? Difficult? Why?

6. What does sadness sound like?

7. Do you cry? Do you cry easily? Do you cry often? What does that feel like?

8. When was the last time you cried? What did you cry about?

9. When were you the most sad? Why?

10. What are the different ways you experience sadness? Can you put a name to them (ex. tragic sad, tender sad, beautiful sad, depressed sad...)?

11. Do you enjoy sadness at all, ever? Why or why not?

12. Comments, extras: please feel free to include any extra points you want to make here about sadness. Or answers to questions I never asked. Or comments or little stories. I would love to hear it..

Thank you for taking the time to write about this. I very much appreciate it.

ART art

um... so the craziest thing just happened.

I'm sick enough that I recognize that it would be stupid to go to a concert tonight, even though I really really WANT to go.

I think I've written about this lovely spoken word artist from out East, Tanya Davis (friend of sweet Catherine) that I really enjoy... the one that sings "Art"... 

actually, awhile back I wrote about both of them.. about a session on "sad songs" on Vinyl Cafe (Cbc Radio) and about how it messed me up pretty good...  shoot, I wish I could get that "search this site" widget to work on here again....

anyway. the song that messed me up so well was "Art"- go have another listen to it. Really listen to it. And think about the things that you do well... and about whether you can be brave and let them go... to be heard/seen/judged/loved/hated/grow.... (just click on it!)

sigh.

back to my story....

tonight she's in Ptbo, not too far from here, and is doing a little house concert at Raven's house. (Dear Raven, I hope you like your blog name. I like to keep people guessing. and protect identities. HA) But... I've pulled a muscle in my chest from coughing... so I'm back to being sick when I cough from the effort of coughing. SO I made the difficult decision to stay at home. 

I got a message on the computer that said "I'm going to call you. answer the phone. you don't have to talk" from Raven, and when the phone rang, I picked it up and squeaked into it a little. And then....

she said...

I hope you can hear this

can you hear that?

(I hear the first bar of "Art")

and I squeak loudly "that's art! that's art!"

and I get a private phone concert from the lovely Tanya Davis. 

and I smile and cry and squeak and cough and wince all in that order, and then all at once a few times.

because I have lovely, thoughtful, creative, beautiful, talented friends.

ideas

This NYE I spent the time with some dear friends creating art. PaSheff pulled us together and organized an evening of collage-ing. It sounds odd. But it was amazing. 

Spending the time creating with friends. 

taking pieces and making something beautiful.

There was so much going on around me- like another said, I'd have loved to be two people... so I could work on one thing, and be creating another.... or just walk around watch everyone else engaged in what they were doing. 

He of the great idea had another tonight.

I'd said that I wanted to try my hand even more at the collage thing. And that I wanted to blog. and about some amazing moments that have happened already this year... 

"collage that", he said.

"what would happen if you took those moments and collaged them for the year?"

I think I will.

COUNTDOWN!

ok, so I left my camera somewhere today... I think it's in the car.

BUT, guess who figured out how to open up her old flickr account? mmmmhmmm, that would be me.

Sooooo, once again, it's a Monday Bunday from the Archives.

eeeeek!!! wasn't he beautiful????

ok, so the countdown... even better than talk like a pirate day my friends... even better.

19 sleeps until Nuit Blanche 2008!!!!

SooooooooooOOOooo, who's with me this year?

(I'm particularly interested in the torn books exhibit, the moon stages and the interactive light show- on the side of the skyscrapers)

** for those of you who are feeling too lazy to actually go read what Nuit Blanche is, it's an all night art show on the streets of Toronto, interactive, larger than life, incorporating all your senses.... wear a really great pair of walking shoes, drink coffee, and don't have plans for the next morning.

D, you called it.

I'd like to dedicate this fine announcement to "he that called it".




you're right... I am more than likely taking a picture of a rabbit... RIGHT now.

I got my worms today.
of course, I'll be posting pictures of them... there may even be a worm'd Wednesday in the near future.

(an aside, I may have altered the picture, but it was an amazing self portrait by "he that called it" you should check out his work sometime)

not my day job

I've never confessed to be an art or film critic.

Today I told Babykate that I liked a piece of her art because it had peas in it.
And because the "colours were bold. I like simple colours, like.. primary colours... uh.. but I know those aren't primary colours... but... I like the way they contrast... uh."
I should have stopped at "I like that one".

BUT in saying I'm not a critic, I am a supporter... and an encourager.

I encourage you to go see Juno. Quickly. I will be watching it again.

Also, check out Babykate's artwork sometime, ask me, I'll direct you.

nooooooooo

just when you thought you'd found everything to kill that second of free time you thought you had... just when you thought you had your addiction to the interawebs under control.... it got worse.
I mean... alot worse.
in a good way.

Blogger released, last month, a nifty little tool that has just allowed me to waste 20 mins of time I didn't have.

I think it's called blogger play, (or play blogger?) but what it does is allow you to see the pictures that are being uploaded to blogger at any given time of the day... in nearly real time.... I'm going to have to start monitoring it to see what happens over the course of a day.... I was seeing lots of Asian photos when I was looking... could it be because it's mid-day to the East? I'm going to have to test my hypothesis.

so, go check it out... I've added a convenient link in the side bar for us to be enthralled together.

(this also explains the strange entries to my blog of late... I couldn't figure out the referral site)

all in a day

it's been yet another busy week... but I think that's it now... really... um... honestly?
I hope.

This week the Sheffs moved into town, it was a huge job, BUT it was cool to see just how many people were willing to help out! By the time I got there after work on Friday most of the work was done, so I just joined Maria and we played house set-up. I love putting things into their new spots in a new house... now if only I could capture that enthusiasm and use it to put away my own crap.

This pic is from one of my new favourite blogs, if you get a chance to check it out I def recommend it... www.bentobjects.blogspot.com

Nuit Blanche

Saturday night in the city... with a few thousand of my closest friends...

It really was a great night, and I'm still not totally sure what I liked the best there.... I'm super fond of the Arts Counsel stuff- all textiles, very interesting... the wall hanging that I thought was a mosaic to look like a pebbled stream... ended up being made of felted wools, the two sided wall hanging of a garden, the vase like felted creatures... I loved the giant aquarium, the tables floating behind the car-sized fish. The music and smells, the carpeted walkway, the photos, the paintings, the pom poms... the sculptures... the camp tent.
So much to take in, and we barely finished a third of the art out there...
While standing under the "lobotomy's $300" sign, I noticed a familiar face... but couldn't place it... I stared for a bit, then turned around and asked my friend, as I asked, I knew... and I hissed... "that's Andrew Younghusband!"
Sadly, I hissed too loudly, he looked up on hearing his name and melted into the night...
just as well, I would have missed a lot of the art following him around for the night.

summer sounds

This weekend was the big "Soiree Au Revoir" for the Sheff's house... It's not sold yet, and after this weekend's activities, I think there's more sadness to it's sale... it's just a matter of time.

Everything went off without a hitch, and I spent some time just taking it all in.
I watched and I listened.

The campfire's pop, Melwood strumming, singing... the brat pack's giggles and Jacky's rumbling, people resting... enjoying each other's company, crickets, poetry, a small tousled head poking out from a sleeping bag, clinking of glasses .... fireflies playing in the willow branches.

summer.
♥

ART

So, if you haven't already heard, there's an art show on Wednesday between 6-9 at the Lawless gallery.

It's free... and... well, it's going to be beautiful. You really should stop by to see this.

losing my identity

If you live in the Tannery area, and they tear down the tannery... where do you live?


I woke up the other morning to the house shaking a little... I didn't think much of it as the train tracks are quite close, if you are in the front room when a freight passes, you can hear the windows shaking in their panes If you are sitting close enough you can watch the glass shake around. (yeah, I imagine those are pretty weather tight ;) There's even a slight shudder to the house when two pass at the same time. When I stepped out the front door at 7, the air smelt heavy like skunk... which was strange because that was the morning of the minus 33 wind chill... if I were a skunk, I'd still be in bed- skunks don't have day jobs. It was strange until I took the first corner behind my house and saw the dust flying and settling, flying and settling. The large red brick house at the main entrance to the Tannery was flattened. a heap of red brinks and some machinery sorting left over bits if metal and wood stood beside an archway made of cement that had at one time connected the house (office?) to the rest of the buildings, remained.
The Tannery was a photographer's (or maybe any artist's) dream.... old window panes catching light, rusting cogs and wheels, wooden roofs at strange angles, little bits of shadow and surprises. I'll miss it. That same morning an old door had been left open, you could see silhouetted and framed by morning sunlight an old pulley and chains from the ceiling... I really need to start carrying a camera.

too much

Last night I hit the Lawless gallery for a triple mix of Aengus Finnan (yay!) Catherine Maclellan and Tanya Davis. Now, the last time I saw Catherine was at the Oasis, and the sound mix was awful and I was SO distracted by it I had to focus hard on what was being played... but last night, I got to do the board... for all three, so I was quite content.

Anyway, that's not what I wanted to write about!

Two weeks ago, driving the 28 home, I was (as per my usual routine) listening to the Vinyl Cafe on CBC, but it was a little different... instead of the show on the road, Stuart was in the studio, doing a program on "Sad songs". The idea being, that if you hear a really sad song, it'll just make you feel a little better. I agreed, so I kept listening. That was the day that the sun was blinding me all the way home...

A little Leonard was played, and then Stuart said something to the effect of "sometimes a song that sounds happy can be one of the saddest of them all" and launched into the story behind Gene Maclellan's depression and how "Snowbird" reflected him the best of all his songs... The cheery song came on the radio... and while I listened to it and thought about the sadness of the song (and his eventual suicide) I started to get a little weepy... The song ended and Stuart said just a few lines... about Catherine (his daughter) and how she must have been thinking about her dad as she wrote the next song...
That next song was one she wrote about her dad, and there's a line in it about putting his records on to listen to them, when that line was sung I started to cry...
All I could think about was the powerful painful process that is behind song... behind poetry... behind putting your most intimate thought onto paper or playing it out loud.
I thought about who would be listening to the songs, to even just that program that day... what if... what if Catherine were listening to that program? Would she hurt more over hearing the stories and songs played together? Or would it be healing, knowing that others could feel along with her? I resolved then and there that I was NEVER going to write a song down again... something so personal... so... entirely open.. so ... *sigh*
Then a letter was read... a letter about Tanya's new Cd, and a piece was played called Sadness.* By the end I was still so upset by the fact that words are so powerful, but I knew I'd better get a new pen.

.... put down my handkerchief, for a pen with good ink flow and then
put down a new poem and then something insightful..... make it worth my while.

*also listen to "Art"... it just confirms it.

underneath it all

so, despite the fact that there's crap around. There is some good.. nay, there is some great, left in the day to day.
In two weeks we launch our Drama Club for the folks we support at work, and it's super cool because it's a joint venture with another agency... making linkages... that's life right? Not only that, but we have a site for it that is perfect, the YFC drop in centre...
perfect how?
By being a large open space, with a raised platform that runs the length of the room.... and a number of mirrors (it used to be a gym). Not only that, it's neutral. It's downtown. It's accessible. Fantastic.
AAAAAANNNNNDDDDD
And what?
I was talking with one of our guys the other day about the craft night thing, and he said he really wanted to put his art in a gallery (to get a ribbon). I tried to explain to him that really, that wasn't what happened at gallery's.... and then thought... hmmmm. It would be cool if it did happen.
So I contacted Aengus, and he said we could use the Lawless Gallery for a night.!!!!! Super. so... sometime soon, stay tuned. I'll have a date available.
oh, but don't tell the guys yet.. it's a fair way away still and that's a lot of pressure/waiting for them.