There are times when I have been given to

and there are times when I have the impulse to give

both in receiving and in giving 

trust is the inspiration.

This line of prayer flags had fallen from where they were strung, onto the ground beneath.

A squirrel came, stuffed the one end into its mouth and carried it through two backyards, 

up into the tree where it has its home. There they are, still hanging.

Most of what I do in my life is repetitive. 

I learn from what I repeat, when I am able to observe. 

And life itself supplies the random, the unexpected, even the unwelcome. 

Those are the challenges I react or respond to.

Somehow it's all right here, even while I look for something more.

                                                                                            ...is an opening

A fish in a bowl is totally dependent on us for its survival.

It can endure our neglect for a surprisingly long time 

but also it can revive dramatically with care and attention.

It is possible for us to have relationship with every creature

when we recognize it as living.

there is a cloud of unknowing

and in the splitting of the tree

new life growing.

Today Sae 'n' I ventured out onto the street, far from our stomping grounds, looking to find who know's what. 

We took with us a CONTACT map and gallery names but never found any.

The bus was crowded and hot and we couldn't remember where we were or why we were there.

Sometimes everything we need is right in front of us. 

Returning to our familiar was a great relief.

...on the seriousness of work

...and it opens to the weekend

Ready to receive what comes

and what falls away

After working towards the completion of a body of work

and the opening which follows

there is often a dry patch

when there seems to be no direction.

This is today.

                                                         When we close the gaps we alter the landscape.

Today Sae 'n I spent all day hanging what is to be 'her show'.

It was very finicky work and exhausting.

We should finish tomorrow.

It will be beautiful!

              This is a small glimpse into the space where Marina Hashemi is exhibiting her collages:- Anatomy of a Soul

In a collaboration each participant  is moved by the other,

quite literally they are each mobilized by a recognition 

of potential to create something of beauty and perfection.

Collaboration requires heart and seeing. 

It is always surprising and its essence is joy.

Marina writes: "'Anatomy of a Soul' was born out of solitude and self reflection.

The skeleton is a form that supports and moves me through life.

My intuition, which I rely on to be my sight and guiding light,

is felt deeply in my gut and pelvis, that is where I placed eyes.

My heart, an organ I associate with deep states of anxiety,

love, empathy - that is why I placed bursts of colour,

delicate butterfly wings and soft flower petals, in the chest. 

These are my first collages.

They document an exploration and discovery 

of what lives inside my soul." 

Today's conversation between Floyd Kuptana and 'that woman' aka deborah harris

Floyd Kuptana and deborah harris have been collaborating together for many years.

His sculptures have inspired her drawings, collages, paintings

which have in turn inspired Floyd to expand his talents into drawing and painting.

This show documents their creative conversation to the present.

what was once in the ocean,

is found on the shore.

This installation ushers in a new exhibition, 

F e r o c i o u s   J o y 

This whale bone was found on the shores of Tuktoyaktuk, NWT in 1940,

  at the mouth of the MacKenzie River where it enters the Arctic Ocean.

What happens to the creative process when we try to repeat or reproduce it?

We may find our self stuck in the same place just spinning our wheels.

Something we can also call habit.

and the space enters us

Today artists Vivian Felsen and Floyd Kuptana showed up at the gallery ready to paint.

They managed to entice deborah harris, in spite of her resistance, to join them.

These paintings are the result of the dialogue between them.

Kuptana and harris' work are Picasso inspired.

Against all of our resistances,

justifications and reasons for why not,

some hidden, forgotten, longed for essence 

continues to be.

Trying to find the story 

as it enters from the outside in

If it comes in I will find it.

A moving stream full of images.

One floats to the surface and lets me catch it.

That one image holds a memory of the whole.

If I can begin with that slippery fish

it will lead me through to an ending.

It is always surprising 

and always known.

Sometimes, but almost never

we touch what we desire.

excerpt from 'Robert Frost at Eighty' by Peter Boyle

 Something rich comes from our conversations 

that I take home with me to ponder.

Sometimes we cannot initiate. 

Sometimes we do not want to do what we are asked to do,

or we cannot decide what of all the things we think we must do

that we can do.

We are surrounded by movement. 

Simple, mundane tasks require our attention.

They insure that we continue to engage. 

We must only agree.

                                                                                                                                                   grass in the wind

"Greensleeves was all my joy

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold

And who but my lady Greensleeves."

I asked him, "What kind of day do you think it is today?"

And he answered, "A little bit flat but friendly."

And so I thought maybe it looks like this.

The Collage and E.J Gold Gallery have joined the present show 'In Memory of Spring'

with what is being called -   'A Delicate Response'

The day began 

stepping on my own toes

but slowly the steps became more sure

more steady and evenly paced

one step following the next.

More than an idea.

Matthew Bates is the nephew of a dear friend of ours, Pete Corr,

who passed away this last week, February 15.

Matthew has been here from England for the last days of his uncle and after.

He has inspired the next show entitled 'In Memory of Spring'

and has left us with many of what he is calling ' floral sculptures'.

This is one of his first excursions into collage which will be part of the new work shown in the Collage Gallery.  

How much further must we go?

An immensity of blue

small enough to fit in our mouth

or to hold in our hand.

An immensity,

too vast to comprehend

  and yet infinitesimal 

                                                                                             in our sight

                                                                    Moving from the darkness towards the light

Watching the snow melt.

Working from home 

seeing the familiar in an unfamiliar way,

through the camera's lens and Sae's eyes.

                                                                                    They are windows too. 

                                                                                   Another benefit of home.                                                                         

Sometimes we have to wear armour,

spikes and thorns pointing out,

to protect the soft inside.

Today is a prickly day.

We can do things more quickly and easily when we work together.

Today we were four working together.

These are two examples by Eron Boyd (top)

and 

Vivian Felsen (lower)

The moon tonight may appear as full 

but its face has begun to move into shadow.

An almost imperceptible turning

we sometimes look up to see. 

Blowing bubbles 

like small moons rising from the deep.

Feet fluttering to propel

a slow motion turning 

along the ocean floor. 

Today is a poem

written in shadows.

Lines which speak of roots and cracks.

Ice a broken voice 

waiting to be fluid.

For now content with silence.

How can we touch something which is floating?

It can be like a question which is not easily answered.

But even the asking inspires us to stretch our understanding.

Looking from one side I think that is all there is to see. 

But life itself keeps turning,

rising and falling with the tides. 

Through time I may receive the possibility of seeing from the other side,

a picture of the world,

more expansive and complex than anything I could have imagined.

Somewhere in between

is looking.

well maybe just one touch

There is a story whispered here

stillness and movement

coming towards and going away 

from the one who stands watching

We are gathered here to remember our roots and our gentle nature.

Regular schedule resumes January 16th but check here  for surprises.

Today's youngest visitor 

learning to walk 

and explore

a whole new world. 

OnE ForTy FiVe...

a time (in the afternoon or morning)

an age!

an address (without the street name)

the number of buttons in a jar

the number of centimeters of a shorter than average person

the cost of a skill saw on sale at Canadian Tire

the size of a large herd of cows

five pennies short of three rolls

when the train departs

the page in the book facing  144

(and the number just below the very nice shoe).

In this image I recognize the object to be a chair.

I know that it is sitting on a floor.

The wall behind tells me that I can not walk forward 

but must exit the space to the left or the right.

The shadows also tell me something of the space surrounding,

of its shape and where the light is coming from. 

And it can be said that the chair recognizes me.

It has been carefully crafted for a person, such as myself, to sit upon.

In this way I am welcomed to the space.  

What is it that allows us to know where we are?

Recognition: To know 

To recognize and be recognized.

Without that we are lost.