Stories on Canvas - Are you in one??

Amberlee Rosolowich is a young artist from California.  She paints powerful, narrative images of childhood fantasy and anxiety.  View her work and read more about it HERE.

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Call Me Frankenstein

I set myself a task this evening.  Hooked up to my MP3 player  I went out for a walk.  The mellow voice of Madeleine Peyroux set a comfortable pace.  The music; however, turned out to be a weaker draw on my senses than the spongy, hot August evening.  The sky was black and motionless; before it the trees stood out in surreal relief.  The heavy mist felt tingly and made my skin shine.  Before an intense palate of black and green my eyes awakened from their mid-summer sleep.   I turned off my music, took out my ear phones and walked, as such an evening demanded, "unplugged." 

Untethered to the words of the music, my mind quickly started to wander.  I started thinking of the start of school in September and how I might be able to engage my 11 year old son, Kyle, in creative evening activities.  I had him start a blog last year.  He has a few entries in it.  (Right click HERE and "open in a new window" if you would like to take a peek.) 

I thought I might ask Kyle one evening to write a blog entry describing his idea of the "perfect friend."  With this exercise, he would have to think about: 1. what it means to be a friend and 2. what qualities constitute good character. 

No sooner did I hatch this little plan for Kyle than I started thinking about it in reference to myself.  Enter Frankenstein - how would I "build" the perfect friend?  I don't know if this would be my final design, but the prototype would be something like this:

• there would be a male version and a female version
• he/she would be strong, decisive
• objective and non-judgemental
• brave but not foolhardy
• wouldn't dream of telling me a lie to spare my feelings
• would love me but never pity me, envy me or enable me 
• would not need to be with me constantly to know how important the friendship was
• someone I'd want to "measure up to" and vice versa
• would most likely have a "quirky" and unique take on life

I think that's probably more than enough to expect of my imaginary paragon!  I have one friend who very closely fits my ideal.  Zoe was the subject of my very first blog entry in 2007.  She has been the best of friends for over 35 years. I had no idea that my one hour walk this evening would take me all the way to BC!

What a happy thought this exercise has been.  Love ya Zoe! 

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Heard of "Project Gutenberg?"

From Wikipedia: (right click on any link and select "open in another window) to read the complete article.

"Project Gutenberg was started by Michael Hart in 1971 with the digitization of the United States Declaration of Independence.^[4] Hart, a student at the University of Illinois, obtained access to a Xerox Sigma V mainframe computer in the university's Materials Research Lab. Through friendly operators, he received an account with a virtually unlimited amount of computer time; its value at that time has since been variously estimated at $100,000 or $100,000,000.^[4] Hart has said he wanted to "give back" this gift by doing something that could be considered to be of great value. His initial goal was to make the 10,000 most consulted books available to the public at little or no charge, and to do so by the end of the 20th century"

One of the coolest things on the Gutenberg website is the free audio book offerings.  I down-loaded "The Picture of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde recently.  It's a wonderfully narrated piece of work!  I copied it to my MP3 player and listened at my leisure on walks and roller blade skates over a week or so. 

Would you like to try down loading this classic story too?  Here's how:

• go to this website: http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/26230#downloads
• scroll down to the table titled "Hand-Crafted Files"
• there are 13 "audio" files (for the 13 chapters of the novel)
• starting on the first of the "Audio" files, left click where it says "main site" in the 5th column of the row
• then, in the dialogue box where is asks if you want to save this file, click  the "save" option
• In the next, "save as" box, select a suitable library - music, document etc. and create a new folder, title "Dorian Gray" by,
• Right clicking the library name on the left and selecting "new" then select "folder"
• a "new folder" will appear under your library title - documents or music that you selected           
• Rename that "new folder" to "Dorian Gray"
• save all 13 files in sequence to that folder then transfer the entire folder, if you wish, to your MP3 player for easy summer "reading."
• then continue browsing the collection!

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Let's Call it "GOOF"

Food Diary - Thursday, August 5th.

  7:00 AM - Brekky of champions - Protein shake with a liberal dose of strawberries, blueberries, banana and soy milk

  9:00 AM - Grabbed the yellow plum on the counter that had "Judi" written on it

12:30 PM - After gardening, house cleaning and keyboard tapping, - Cottage cheese with strawberries and bananas and another glass of soy milk, oh, and 2 whole wheat saltine crackers,(munched while wondering about their sodium content.)

12:40 PM - Single dose mult-vitamin supplement, double dose calcium and vitamin D supplement, single does chondroitin something-or-other that's good for the          joints supplement.

• At this point, Stomach says to Head, "C'mon now, are we really happy with this "health" deal?"
• Head replies, "We'll be healthy or die trying!"
• Stomach counters, weakly,  "there are laws against this!"

1:00 PM - 5:00 PM - Between on-going housework (not a typical day!) and keyboard tapping, Stomach is languishing in gustatory angst and considering mutiny.  Head, not insensitive to the feelings of her constant companion resolves to make amends...

Out comes a cookbook - "simply Indian" - sweet and spicy recipes from India, Pakistan and East Africa."  It's time to cook REAL food! (But GOOD food!)

I love cook books.  I own dozens and have given away as many as I still own.  I like to spread the "cooking word" to newbies!  I flipped through a few pages, looked at some pretty pictures then put the book back on the shelf.  I don't follow recipes very often any more.  I opened up my cupboards and pulled out:     

• a bag of red lentils  (Right click on any links and select "open in a new window" for lots of great nutrition info)
• white rice
• 1 onion
• frozen peas and carrots
• small bit of cooked beef leftovers from freezer
• turmeric
• curry masala
• butter
• salt (just a smidge!)

What I did with it:

Sauteed the chopped onion in butter, added lentils to toast, added peas and carrots, rice, spice and sliced beef and water.  Brought to a boil, reduced heat to simmer for 15 minutes.  It was done.  The house smelled "spicy"  and Stomach was friends with Head again.

I call this creation "GOOF" after my old neighbourhood restaurant in the Toronto Beaches.  The GOOF, (not it's real name) sat for years with a defective sign that, fully-lit would have read "GOOD FOOD" but  due to poor maintenance read "GOO    F     "  Nobody remembered its real name; to everyone in the "hood" it was just known as "The Goof."

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"Hot Town - Summer in the City"

I spent most of the long weekend with my three sons – Donnie, twenty, Ryan eighteen and Kyle, eleven.  It’s rare for all three boys to converge at my house at the same time.   Donnie lives in Toronto where he works and goes to school; Ryan lives in Mississauga with his father, leaving Kyle, the “only child,” still at home with me. 

I valued those novel, three days.  They gave me the quality “mom fix” that I need to have periodically.  After watching them come and go – and eat and eat – under my roof for a couple of days, my nagging concerns about their health and happiness dissolved.  On the third day, I piled everyone into my little car.  We headed into the city where I released the two older boys back into their natural habitats, confident that they would prosper!

Kyle and I continued deeper into the heart of the urban jungle to spend a special, “awesome” day together.   With our water bottles, my roller blades and his skateboard, we hopped on the subway train at Islington station and wormed our way into the core of the city; our destination – the Pier behind the Harbour Castle Hotel where we would board a Ferry to Toronto Island.  Although forewarned, I was still shocked by the masses of others we joined upon our ascent from the depths of the transit system.  In the heat we were absorbed in a molten surge; an indistinguishable throng of hundreds – two more nameless insects in a swarm of locusts descending upon a picnic.  A block from the dock, I began to fear the entrance kiosk and what effect the four narrow admission wickets would have upon the manners, patience and general safety of this massive throng.  My fears were not unfounded...

I abhor a “bad time;” so much so, that I will call it a “good time” simply to deny its occurrence.  It’s a very dire situation from which at least one positive thing cannot be salvaged and if that one, tiny facet of brilliance is accentuated it can impart a reflecting radiance to the whole.  I was determined to have a good time that day.  Good times punctuate the pages of life with exclamation marks - and I love a good read!  When we stopped to (hopefully) form orderly lines with the multitudes I was glad that we were near the lake to (hopefully), catch a breeze.  When a couple of obnoxious men crashed the line in front of Kyle and me, I was glad that I made the uncharacteristic decision to speak pointedly and evenly to them about it; restoring at once our rightful place in line and, more importantly, my good temper. 

We boarded the “Ned Hanlon” finally and secured a good position on the stern to appreciate the receding skyline.

In due course, we docked, and then slowly plodded across the lower deck to disembark.  The hoped-for breeze was faint - if that.  I wilted and became a bit dizzy.  I glimpsed the set expression on the face of the heavy-set, thirty-something year old woman in the wheelchair beside me and, on my feet, I felt more fortunate and less anxious about waiting to escape.  Making eye contact with her, I smiled pointing to her laden parcel carrier and joked, “I guess you always get stuck carrying everything don’t you?”  She laughed back and I enjoyed her smile as she said, “you never get to travel lightly when you have kids!” 

Finally we got off the Ferry.  Not since Noah has anyone been happier to get off a boat!  I put on my skates, put away my “Pollyanna” mantle of forbearance and started to breathe a bit easier.  Kyle and I wove our way through the crowd and where the path forked – going to the amusement park on the right and to the beach trail on the left, we followed the quieter beach option.  It was Kyle’s first trip to the “exotic” Toronto islands – a first-hand adventure for him – and a vicarious first-hand adventure for me.

On a hot and humid afternoon that rumbled with distant thunder, our luck held out and we caught only a few drops of rain; the grave concern being the damaging effects of water to the “grip tape” of Kyle’s new skateboard.  I, for one, would have been happy to skate along in a steady, refreshing drizzle! 

After touring half of the island we continued on with part deux of our “awesome” day and headed into Toronto.  There, I enjoyed the first-hand adventure of rollerblading from Front Street to the Eaton Centre – amazing fun!   I wouldn’t have guessed that Bay Street would be safe to skate, but it was smooth, flat and because of the holiday it was traffic-free - perfect for skating along! 

Then it was on to a few more “firsts” for Kyle: visiting city hall, combing the Eaton Centre and dining at the Hard Rock Cafe.  His highlights from the Hard Rock: 

·         “Kiss” and various other "rocker" memorabilia on the walls

·         New set of “Toronto”-branded drum sticks

·         A very cool new fedora

 

See and download the full gallery on posterous

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“Atypically Speaking” – Reflections of a Square-pegged Zoomer

“Kyle the Red,” my 11 year old son confided something to me a month ago.  “Mom,” he said, “at the end of cadet’s group last night, all my friends were saying what age their parents are and when I said that you’re 51, they laughed at me!”  Frankly, I was a bit astounded.  I couldn’t believe that the same peer pressure that makes today’s children so acutely brand-conscious of clothing, electronics and life-style could place superficial labelling on what’s cool or hot as the case may be, in parents.  “Did that make you feel badly,” I asked – anxiously.  “Well, sort of,” he admitted. 

“Whoa,” I thought – “that’s one thing that even a super-mom can’t fix!”

A bit overly-sensitive, Kyle admitted that he had no reply for his cool friends on that evening so just fell silent.  I tried to make Kyle feel OK about his decrepit parent.  I asked him, “do any of your friends’ mothers roller-blade, bike ride or play tennis with them?”  “No,” he answered. “Can they help their kids with school work and projects or show them how to do things on the computer like I can?”  “No,” he said again, not really brightening up at the mention of my somewhat redeeming qualities.  Then, playing my ace-in-the-hole, I levelled an even, poker-faced gaze at him and asked, “Can any other mom cook like I can?” And the sun finally broke out!  Kyle smiled and we moved on.

Kyle has few points with which he differs from other kids in his respective peer group; I, on the other hand, have very few points with which I correspond.  I’ve grown accustomed to being different; I have, in fact, elevated it to something of an art form or new-age religion in my “latter years.”  My pedigree alone defies demographic designation.  I am a Catholic-Jewish, Irish-French-Portuguese; white Jamaican-by-way-of-Hunter River, P.E.I., Canadian – and an atypical one at that!  “Put that in your pipe and smoke it,” like my French-Canadian grandfather used to say!

There is also the point of where I was brought up.  For most people that is a straightforward fact to share yet the question always stumps me.  I’ve moved around - a lot!  By the time I finished high school I had been to thirteen different schools.  So how do I best answer that question?  “I was brought up with my brothers and sisters – six of them in total,” is one way, or, “think of me as a little, white, plastic ball that was “pinged” and “ponged” in a marathon rally between Ontario and Nova Scotia for several decades,” is another; but perhaps the best is – “I wasn’t brought up, I was brought around, and around, and around!”

In consequence of my nomadic existence, (although I do not have the scientific data to back this up), I believe that I have a genetic adaptation – an arguable enhancement to the human genome that predisposes me to packing up and moving at a moment’s notice.  Add “genetic mutation” to my list of anomalous traits.

I do not maintain a tidy, sequential time-line for my life.   My phases – childhood, adolescence and adulthood converge and overlap in a tangled, woven web that can only be explained in terms of E=MC².  I was often “old” in my teens, predominantly a “teen” in my twenties and frequently a “child” now, in my fifties.  My milestones and life-marking events are also strewn about at random.  Sometimes sedentary as a youngster, I took up sports in adulthood – skiing, running and sailing in my twenties, swimming in my thirties then rollerblading in my forties.  I had my third son at forty-one.  By age, I could be his grandmother but he is a large part of what anchors me in my youth and I like it that way.  At forty-six, I left an abusive marriage of sixteen years and was reborn.  Weightless and un-tethered, I leaped forward to experience the exciting, nebulous wonder of being alive!   

Now I am recycling old dreams.  I became a computer programmer in my twenties but as a child, I had dreams of being a writer and as a teen I dreamed of being a photographer.  Those were great, meaty dreams that I should never have put away but I’m ready now to take a bite out of them.  Among a generation of “freedom fifty-five-ers” I’ve deliberately broken ranks to take risks and explore my “what ifs” – and to tell you the truth, I don’t care if I crash and burn, as long as I get a taste, if only for a moment, of what it’s like to soar!

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"...to the soul what rain is to the earth"

What can raise your spirits, lower your blood pressure, improve your health and increase your face value?  The answer - of course - the big "lol" or better yet, an even bigger "rofl!"

While it may sometimes be romantic to languish in a wistful melancholy, a cloak of gloom should not be regarded as a wardrobe mainstay - only the likes of Edgar Alan Poe have ever been able to tastefully carry off that "emo accessory."

Humour, and even more importantly, a humourous outlook has the power to change a life from "oh poor me" to "Oh! look at me!"

The Mayo Clinic  lists the many health benefits of laughter :

Stimulate many organs. Laughter enhances your intake of oxygen-rich air, stimulates your heart, lungs and muscles, and increases the endorphins that are released by your brain.

Activate and relieve your stress response. A rollicking laugh fires up and then cools down your stress response and increases your heart rate and blood pressure. The result? A good, relaxed feeling.

Soothe tension. Laughter can also stimulate circulation and aid muscle relaxation, both of which help reduce some of the physical symptoms of stress.

Improve your immune system. Negative thoughts manifest into chemical reactions that can impact your body by bringing more stress into your system and decreasing your immunity. In contrast, positive thoughts actually release neuropeptides that help fight stress and potentially more-serious illnesses.

Relieve pain. Laughter may ease pain by causing the body to produce its own natural painkillers. Laughter may also break the pain-spasm cycle common to some muscle disorders.

Increase personal satisfaction. Laughter can also make it easier to cope with difficult situations. It also helps you connect with other people. 

(Title from a quotation from Gerry Hopman - "Humor is to the soul what rain is to the earth.")

For a light but thorough treatment of the elevating and infectious effects of humour, watch this YouTube video!!

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