Two years and three months since my last post.
What a world of difference.
Married now.
Life is moving fast.
Feeling somedays like I'm in the current.
not knowing the strokes by which to bring the canoe under control
spinning and floating at the mercy of the water.
Like I know the strokes and cannot seem to use them.
Lord guide my hands and my head.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
I've been a bingo caller for around 9 years now.
It's interesting and somewhat sad to attend these events.
The bingo evenings are held every second Monday in the Duval Town Hall.
My first impression was that this was a very serious group of people.
Each one hard at work, toiling at the task of tracking numbers and longing for the prize.
Now, being a creative man, I looked for ways to liven the somber dabbers.
Often I would call wrong numbers - well not merely wrong, but non-existent ones, like "Q99" - This quickly divided the participants into categories of confused or amused.
I have a dream of taking the bag of old bingo balls which have been replaced and during the course of a card (the term for dabbing away at the numbers on your card until someone bingos) setting them on my lap and releasing them part way through. I have not done this yet, for I fear with the age of some of the participants that a heart attack might occur.
Today I crossed a boundary however.
Immediately after intermission, after the first number had been called for that card, I thought, second guessed and then went for it.
I Yelled "Bingo!"
Everything stopped.
Heads turned.
And people started to laugh.
As they were all experienced players, they knew it was impossible to win with just one number.
and the absurdity found it's funny bone target.
It was a good night.
I'm awake at 2:3oam laughing aloud about it.
...hmm....when to dump those balls?
It's interesting and somewhat sad to attend these events.
The bingo evenings are held every second Monday in the Duval Town Hall.
My first impression was that this was a very serious group of people.
Each one hard at work, toiling at the task of tracking numbers and longing for the prize.
Now, being a creative man, I looked for ways to liven the somber dabbers.
Often I would call wrong numbers - well not merely wrong, but non-existent ones, like "Q99" - This quickly divided the participants into categories of confused or amused.
I have a dream of taking the bag of old bingo balls which have been replaced and during the course of a card (the term for dabbing away at the numbers on your card until someone bingos) setting them on my lap and releasing them part way through. I have not done this yet, for I fear with the age of some of the participants that a heart attack might occur.
Today I crossed a boundary however.
Immediately after intermission, after the first number had been called for that card, I thought, second guessed and then went for it.
I Yelled "Bingo!"
Everything stopped.
Heads turned.
And people started to laugh.
As they were all experienced players, they knew it was impossible to win with just one number.
and the absurdity found it's funny bone target.
It was a good night.
I'm awake at 2:3oam laughing aloud about it.
...hmm....when to dump those balls?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Scott and Jackson
Not sure what the fish's name is.
Dad enjoying the abundance of food
Eric and Max on our ill planned but fantastic hike
around the ENTIRE island.
Eric and Max jumping into Surf City.
Everyone but me at Surf City,
hmm Tom didn't want my
peanut butter square snack.
Something about swelling...
The Campsite on Barker Island
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Pelican Narrows Trip Day 0ne
I'm just back from two weeks canoeing in Saskatchewan's beautiful Northlands. The first trip we put in at North Bay just outside of Pelican Narrows. These Pictures are from the first day.
The Five of Us.
The only fast water we could run on the trip.
All Portages should be like these!
Chad Loves Fish
Don post rapids.
This was a fantastic trip with great guys. More pics to come.
The Five of Us.
The only fast water we could run on the trip.
All Portages should be like these!
Chad Loves Fish
Don post rapids.
This was a fantastic trip with great guys. More pics to come.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Undeniably Underutilized
So much for maintaining a consistant pace with this spilling the beans on your computer screens
My passion seems put into sprints and potholes of activity.
What has gone on since last I burst words out into the ether...
I have the lead guy role in our local theatre production. "Check Please!"
Been painting as part of a six painting project (six painters) for Northview Church in Regina SK.
Am photographing The Provincial Girls Curling competition.
Finished a short promotional video for Arlington Beach Camp and Conference Centre
Created a dual disc wedding DVD for Juanita Thiess (ne. Schapansky)
And generally felt overwhelmed.
More later...
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Mr. J
A valuable lesson I've learned over the past weeks.
DON'T NAME SOMETHING YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO KILL.
For some time I've had sounds coming from my ductwork,
I finally figured out that it was "a mouse"
I named it Mr. Jangles.
(The Green Mile's mouse actor)
Once he became aquainted with my pantry
and the boxes of stores there I had to laugh,
because it would seem that his favorite food
was Access Bars, which are a product which aids greatly the burning of fat.
Though I considered the fact that his efforts to sustain himself
would only lead to weight loss,
I decided that his interest in my cupboard must end.
And then I set traps for him.
Coming back to find him cute, brown and white, and dead.
I felt a good deal of remorse for the poor little guy
and was glad that the metal spring of the trap had caught it precisely across it's neck
providing a quick end to it's life.
Those feelings remorse,
have since faded
with the subsequent elimination of the rest of Mr. Jangles family.
An adventure which has provided me with
a heightened awareness of trap snapping sounds
and included the removal of individuals of the mouse population
in various states of incapacitation.
You shouldn't name something
which someday is going to be staring up at you
from the trap you have set for it.
But I did.
And now I am desensitized.
I think maybe next week I'll rent Mouse Hunt,
or maybe settle into some Stuart Little
to regain some of the cuteness the critters have lost.
As for now,
I'm setting another trap.
DON'T NAME SOMETHING YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO KILL.
For some time I've had sounds coming from my ductwork,
I finally figured out that it was "a mouse"
I named it Mr. Jangles.
(The Green Mile's mouse actor)
Once he became aquainted with my pantry
and the boxes of stores there I had to laugh,
because it would seem that his favorite food
was Access Bars, which are a product which aids greatly the burning of fat.
Though I considered the fact that his efforts to sustain himself
would only lead to weight loss,
I decided that his interest in my cupboard must end.
And then I set traps for him.
Coming back to find him cute, brown and white, and dead.
I felt a good deal of remorse for the poor little guy
and was glad that the metal spring of the trap had caught it precisely across it's neck
providing a quick end to it's life.
Those feelings remorse,
have since faded
with the subsequent elimination of the rest of Mr. Jangles family.
An adventure which has provided me with
a heightened awareness of trap snapping sounds
and included the removal of individuals of the mouse population
in various states of incapacitation.
You shouldn't name something
which someday is going to be staring up at you
from the trap you have set for it.
But I did.
And now I am desensitized.
I think maybe next week I'll rent Mouse Hunt,
or maybe settle into some Stuart Little
to regain some of the cuteness the critters have lost.
As for now,
I'm setting another trap.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
From an art blog I'been reedin'
[That's me in the yellow shorts filmin' away]
http://viaaffirmativa.com/2007/07/09/the-value-of-the-work-of-our-hands…/
"theber Says: September 7th, 2007 at 1:43 pm
It looks like this conversation has largely run its course, but I’m going to comment anyway because I came here today with this very question in mind. I well remember the “souvenier video” from my first week as a camp counselor many years ago. All week I had fought real bugs and imagined bears, herded unruly campers, answered unending questions, looked for lost shoes, and helped scared kids go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t wait for them to go home so I could have a weekend off. Then I saw the video: our week, artfully set to music by a young, underpaid videographer. I was there for all that stuff, but I’d never seen it like that: friendships around the campfire glowed with tenderness, zip-lining over the icy lake was high drama, and winning at capture the flag became a soaring triumph. I still needed a meal and a good night’s sleep, but suddenly I wanted to come back next week and do it all again. I think good art is like that. It shows me more truth about my daily life than I can see while I’m living it. It shows me the glory of the eternal things I take for granted, and the weight of my daily decisions. The life of a saint in a fallen world, not to mention the redemption story itself, is ultimately a grueling perseverence to an exhiliarating come-from-behind win. A finished product that exactly fulfills its purpose - be it Handel’s Messiah or that “well-made pair of jeans” - is an object lesson my heart can read that tells me the story isn’t over, and the end will be grand. Art helps me persevere in faith."
It looks like this conversation has largely run its course, but I’m going to comment anyway because I came here today with this very question in mind. I well remember the “souvenier video” from my first week as a camp counselor many years ago. All week I had fought real bugs and imagined bears, herded unruly campers, answered unending questions, looked for lost shoes, and helped scared kids go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t wait for them to go home so I could have a weekend off. Then I saw the video: our week, artfully set to music by a young, underpaid videographer. I was there for all that stuff, but I’d never seen it like that: friendships around the campfire glowed with tenderness, zip-lining over the icy lake was high drama, and winning at capture the flag became a soaring triumph. I still needed a meal and a good night’s sleep, but suddenly I wanted to come back next week and do it all again. I think good art is like that. It shows me more truth about my daily life than I can see while I’m living it. It shows me the glory of the eternal things I take for granted, and the weight of my daily decisions. The life of a saint in a fallen world, not to mention the redemption story itself, is ultimately a grueling perseverence to an exhiliarating come-from-behind win. A finished product that exactly fulfills its purpose - be it Handel’s Messiah or that “well-made pair of jeans” - is an object lesson my heart can read that tells me the story isn’t over, and the end will be grand. Art helps me persevere in faith."
Nice to be a part (as camp videographer this past summer and likely the next ) of something that affects lives both inside and outside the camp.
I'm seriously contemplating heading back out there this summer. With the possibility of resigning my position at the school to make more time for creative work.
This Christmas season has been so far exceptional for pottery sales. The new line is in it's second year and has really come into it's own.
I'm so tired and two more days until the holiday.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
When sitting is standing
This past weekend I went to a local dinner theatre.
The play was horrid.
The actors all did fine jobs, but the content left me sick to my stomach.
I did not stand for a final ovation.
This was part of a the Christmas party of the service club I am a member of.
Most of the people raved. I thought it was empty and hopeless,
and supposed to be a comedy. Seemed more of a tragedy though...
This is not a very good review, perhaps I'll work something up
but I'd rather just forget it.
The play was horrid.
The actors all did fine jobs, but the content left me sick to my stomach.
I did not stand for a final ovation.
This was part of a the Christmas party of the service club I am a member of.
Most of the people raved. I thought it was empty and hopeless,
and supposed to be a comedy. Seemed more of a tragedy though...
This is not a very good review, perhaps I'll work something up
but I'd rather just forget it.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
I'm Now.
In the previous post the layout caused the words "I'm now"
to be separated from the block of text,
which stirred thoughts about how un-now I tend to live my life
God in his wisdom has given me the fine gift of being able to imagine
yet I spend that wealth imaging far too often those things which are yet distant possibilities.
Living so far forward of "now" endangers the species which is the production of my past dreams.
The production of the sketchbooks full of drawings and plans and diagrams for artworks
somehow "now" must become both the bearer of the past dreams and future schemes.
marked down by and in the work of my hands as one with creative gifts.
An artwork shows both the work of the past, and the possible future of it's improving on the artist
Such scope.
And to dream of bringing old God laden hope to people through it.
well less talk now more action.
to be separated from the block of text,
which stirred thoughts about how un-now I tend to live my life
God in his wisdom has given me the fine gift of being able to imagine
yet I spend that wealth imaging far too often those things which are yet distant possibilities.
Living so far forward of "now" endangers the species which is the production of my past dreams.
The production of the sketchbooks full of drawings and plans and diagrams for artworks
somehow "now" must become both the bearer of the past dreams and future schemes.
marked down by and in the work of my hands as one with creative gifts.
An artwork shows both the work of the past, and the possible future of it's improving on the artist
Such scope.
And to dream of bringing old God laden hope to people through it.
well less talk now more action.
Something about posting
I'm now contemplating the effect writing has on my life.
There seems to be this initial effort barrier to be overcome,
which seems quite insurmountable, but when passed allows my entrance
to a land of intense delight and freedom.
Currently I have stories on the go about:
Pirates/Businessmen
Shepherds
Rappers
Dragons
Surfers
and Medieval legends.
Each time I slide up to the computer or pick up pencil
that wall faces me
takes a great deal of strength to break down, and clamber over the rubble
once on the other side however, the strides are long and the country wide.
I'm experimenting with forms of writing.
New exercises and styles of prose and poetry.
Some of these I'll share in future.
Today I just need to move my fingers for my mind
wierd how that causes things to unwind.
Blessings.
Something about posting
I'm now contemplating the effect writing has on my life.
There seems to be this initial effort barrier to be overcome,
which seems quite insurmountable, but when passed allows my entrance
to a land of intense delight and freedom.
Currently I have stories on the go about:
Pirates/Businessmen
Shepherds
Rappers
Dragons
Surfers
and Medieval legends.
Each time I slide up to the computer or pick up pencil
that wall faces me
takes a great deal of strength to break down, and clamber over the rubble
once on the other side however, the strides are long and the country wide.
I'm experimenting with forms of writing.
New exercises and styles of prose and poetry.
Some of these I'll share in future.
Today I just need to move my fingers for my mind
wierd how that causes things to unwind.
Blessings.
There seems to be this initial effort barrier to be overcome,
which seems quite insurmountable, but when passed allows my entrance
to a land of intense delight and freedom.
Currently I have stories on the go about:
Pirates/Businessmen
Shepherds
Rappers
Dragons
Surfers
and Medieval legends.
Each time I slide up to the computer or pick up pencil
that wall faces me
takes a great deal of strength to break down, and clamber over the rubble
once on the other side however, the strides are long and the country wide.
I'm experimenting with forms of writing.
New exercises and styles of prose and poetry.
Some of these I'll share in future.
Today I just need to move my fingers for my mind
wierd how that causes things to unwind.
Blessings.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Back on four wheels
Well, this week my Astro van (380000km) became ill, spitting brake(break) fluid all over and lessening my chances of complete stops. I decided to replace it.
I've been in love with Pontiac Azteks since I first saw one on Survivor.
I know this puts me in a sample demographic comparable with talking french toast for some of you. But I think she's pretty.
Days of research, and prayer later, here I am ...
I've been in love with Pontiac Azteks since I first saw one on Survivor.
I know this puts me in a sample demographic comparable with talking french toast for some of you. But I think she's pretty.
Days of research, and prayer later, here I am ...
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Incredible halt sauce
How to sum up these past couple of months?
Fear.
But also
Focus.
It's encouraging to see the stacks of pottery
sitting on the shelves waiting to be sanded
knowing that this is my best work yet.
That the business is set now to be what I have dreamed it could.
That my schedule of long days of Bus, school, pottery and photography
have not been unfruitful.
But there's been this fear.
that I'll make the same mistakes as in the past
That the whenever the formula for success includes me
the recipe is ruined.
Overcoming that lie will take some time and practice
Tonight's recipe was homemade hot sauce.
I had a large number of hot peppers aging (read as starting to rot)
in my fridge, which I had been avoiding for some time.
I love hot sauces, but had developed this fear of them
believing that somehow I would not be able to handle the spice anymore
Like I've not been able to handle many of the difficult things lately.
Peppers
Water
Vinegar
Salt
Cook, and blend
What could be simpler?
and in the end so marvelously green and delicious
it's first job will be coating on wings.
GREEN WINGS
I think I'll like that.
Ramble ramble
Did I mention my sister Colleen is coming to live and work with me?
So cool.
Fear.
But also
Focus.
It's encouraging to see the stacks of pottery
sitting on the shelves waiting to be sanded
knowing that this is my best work yet.
That the business is set now to be what I have dreamed it could.
That my schedule of long days of Bus, school, pottery and photography
have not been unfruitful.
But there's been this fear.
that I'll make the same mistakes as in the past
That the whenever the formula for success includes me
the recipe is ruined.
Overcoming that lie will take some time and practice
Tonight's recipe was homemade hot sauce.
I had a large number of hot peppers aging (read as starting to rot)
in my fridge, which I had been avoiding for some time.
I love hot sauces, but had developed this fear of them
believing that somehow I would not be able to handle the spice anymore
Like I've not been able to handle many of the difficult things lately.
Peppers
Water
Vinegar
Salt
Cook, and blend
What could be simpler?
and in the end so marvelously green and delicious
it's first job will be coating on wings.
GREEN WINGS
I think I'll like that.
Ramble ramble
Did I mention my sister Colleen is coming to live and work with me?
So cool.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
It's about to explode
Keeping pace with the emergency
that seems to be the plot of this story
the deadline
the headline
themes in a tale of take it too far and not far enough
The act of being willing to sell my home has set my mind
on those things, so many, unfinished.
Don't worry it's about to explode
should be writted on the side the bomb which is my head.
idea after time killing idea.
warfare on the mundane
built up in stockpile
lists of old cold artwar artwork
gleaming in proposition
and dusty in disuse.
And now when surrendur has been embraced,
the rebellion begins.
these armories are breached and the weapons of this war unleached
from the places they have been sucking out life from the nation
A strange post for a strange day
I worked on an art piece I had abandoned long ago
and fell into passion again
Beautifill
Angel discovered doing a photo shoot for a family I know.
Surprising the things you find not looking for.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Nemiben to Devils Lake
Just back from this year's canoe trip.
It was pretty strenuous at times, but a blast.
We paddled around 30k one day which was epic.
Here are a few picture highlights.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Lover of summer. The documentation. 5 weeks at the lake.
I'm back home in a frenzy
feeling like Dorothy
having clicked my heels together
and to my surprise arrived back home
out of a land so beautiful
and as familiar as my heart.
It's like the past five weeks have been a blink
a page flipped by wind,
only the wind was created by waves and swarms of golden dragonflies
who carried in their carapace the colours of our God's love for us.
Pages and pages of children's faces
and places
made sacred by the fact that we walk into them carrying the dwelling of God.
yet still having the abilitiy to profane them if we choose.
It is a wonderful, overlovely gift, our freedom in this life.
And I'm in love with it again.
As the sun grits it's way throught he dirty glass of my studio
and warms my bare back and arm
It is good to be back home.
If only for a short time.
Less than one week then canoeing!
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