From today’s photshoot with Mishka for headshots, portfolio, and her media package. (My rates.)
It is with deep regret that I post this news. After a massive search, Andrew Koenig has been found dead of suicide in Stanley park. He was fun, attractive, and charming, and though socially we only touched lightly in passing, I adored him, and he was family to many of mine. He will be missed.
Watch The Video: Shane MacGowan, Bobby Gillespie, Nick Cave, Johnny Depp, Chrissie Hynde, Paloma Faith, Glen Matlock, Eliza Doolittle, Mick Jones, (who plays a fire extinguisher), and some others I couldn’t identify, have covered “I Put A Spell On You” as a benefit record to aid Haiti reconstruction. Pre-order it here.
On the wall of the ladies room there is a picture, a long, soft-focus black and white photograph of a woman lying mostly naked on a bed in Seattle, only a few blocks away from where I live when I’m with you. I identify the city by inference, the lights of the tower, the three streaks of white light dotted in rows along the top of Queen Anne, washed out, pale, seen dimly through sheer curtains. There is no way to know when the picture was taken, what year, how recent, no clues, the bed is ordinary, the bedside lamp a timeless shape with a round bland shade, except that it was night. Instead it sits on the wall like a secret, knowledge of a moment, nudity, vulnerability, where I have never been, but have walked past, ignorant. Her face turned away, her luminous body partially draped with a thin white blanket, she could be anyone, somehow she could even be me. It seems for a moment like this recognition should feel like a message, that my bones should ring, that my blood should ache, and I should miss you, your city, your being, but instead I recall a memory, a terrible waking dream; how it would feel to walk by your apartment and no longer own a key, to arrive and understand that your home is my home no longer, a vibrant flash of possible self so hollow it shed time as irrelevant and moved backward, showing me a future I hoped I’ll never have to see.
Of everyone I know, Lung loves it best when I’m unemployed. He comes by almost daily to shake things up. It’s downright wonderful. Yesterday he met up with me and Michelle for tea, (her new seeing eye dog is adorabibble), then for a drive out to her place, where she showered us with books and gave me a simple air cast, so I can walk around without regularly collapsing in a sprained heap. Next week I’m going to start going out to her place to help her clean.
Today we’re going to visit Dominique and her tiny daughter, then drop in downtown to soak in some of the Olympics excitement and meet up with Mishka, who has a 4:oo Mariachi gig at Robson Square, playing on the stage downstairs next to the rink. The Olympics have been an exciting time for her – she’s going to be playing with Dan on CBC on Friday. I talked with her about it on the phone last night before their first rehearsal and it was absolutely lovely to hear just how far she’s over the moon! I’m always delighted when my friends connect, and even more when it tickles them so. Fingers crossed I’ll have the chance to take photos at their gig. (David told me after that I missed Dan and Shane being silly at Chapters yesterday, which was a bit of an damnit! moment, but then we got the ginger ice-cream out and the world was alright again.)
Later this evening, 8 pm later, Jess Hill will be playing at Cafe Monmarte with Erica Mah. Even though I’m not sure Lung is game for it, I know Ray will be, so I’m guaranteed to go. She’s amazing. You should go too!
The site isn’t just old, it redefines old: the temple was built 11,500 years ago—a staggering 7,000 years before the Great Pyramid, and more than 6,000 years before Stonehenge first took shape. The ruins are so early that they predate villages, pottery, domesticated animals, and even agriculture—the first embers of civilization.
Recycled multi-frame picture frame chalkboard, available for sale at A Thread of Grace.
According to Wikipedia “Homie” or “Homey” is a contraction of the American slang words "homeboy" or "homebuddies", but seriously, people, "homebuddies"? Really?