My dear comrade, Dee, from Montreal by way of the UK, will be staying with me this weekend.
To celebrate, we’re going to go dancing at Library Square’s 90’s night. Cover is $6.
edit: apparently we aren’t, actually. we are staying in to chat instead.
Author: foxtongue
a cure for summer (for adam & david & juan)
pluck nine shiny yellow lemons from the pile, put them in your basket, find the strawberries, try to decide through the clear plastic clamshell boxes which ones contain the best and most delicious strawberries, put two of them in your basket too, and one pink grapefruit, then purchase them and leave the store. peel what needs peeling, tear them apart, lick the tart juices running down to your elbows, smile, laugh, (try to find someone pretty to help), put them in a medium sized pot, then rummage through a kitchen drawer until you find a neglected potato masher, one rarely used no matter how delicious mashed potatoes are because there is just never find time in a busy life to make them, and use it to squish the pulpy sour lemons and the pink grapefruit that squirted while it was being skinned until they are mostly juice. while doing this, the pretty helper should have washed the strawberries in bracing cold water, clear and fresh and cool, and begun to pry the stems out with a fingernail, delicate and certain. they should then open the berries as if they were lips, something sweet to kiss, and toss the pieces in with the wet and acidic mess in the pot, brightening it with berry blood the colour of love and good music. when the first box of plump and perfect strawberries is gone, pressed into the rest of the liquid, take the pot, thanking the pretty assistant, fill it with beautiful water, enough to cover the mixture three times over, and put it on the stove to boil like a mysterious teenage dream of summer. when the mixture has begun to boil, possibly stir in with a wooden spoon, cracked perhaps from being left in the sink too long last month, a cup of the darkest demera sugar, as unprocessed as sugar can be, flavourful as honey. after thirty minutes of bubbling, making sure nothing sticks to the bottom, take the pot from the stove and place it inside the fridge, as arctic and pale as fake fox fur. the frost will lick it clean. when it is cold, it is ready to drink. enjoy.
run away to spain
California lifts the ban on gay marriage, becoming the second state to do so.
From the tongue of bees, I step into the warm night, instantly reminded of living somewhere else, a towel around my waist, soaked to the belly, thinking of humidity, how it used to be impossible to see the sky in summer. (At the store, the clerk said it made him happy to see young people in love, “I miss my wife.”) The water on my skin evaporates as I count footprints to the porch, wondering at the heat, and listen to the siren that comes up from the water. Three years I’ve lived here, almost four, and all I know is that it’s from the docks.
David is still in the shower, rinsing bubbles from his hair, I can almost fancy he is quietly singing, though he is not. I stand a moment on the porch, listening to the places I used to live that are suddenly humming under my skin like oxygen, gathering momentum, feeding on the thick texture of the air. I want to have him there, where I once was, in the dark, watching lightning blow in from a roof eight years ago, hair whipping up to blind the clouds that looked as gray as stone, as solid as paint, hands out-stretched, as if with my hands I could catch every drop of rain. I want myself there, but now, like a match-stick struck, flaming into travel faster than thought, as if we could fly on the fire of our belief.
Maybe this will be alright, perhaps I have had my fill of mad genius for now, this could still all work out. Two writers together, mild and bright, making a joyful life, walking, hands held, alright with ourselves, our places, our names. I love him. Already I think in we not I, in us more than me, as if the habits of relationship were merely waiting for me to assume them again like a ring I had merely misplaced, not slowly destroyed or completely forgotten how to wear.
This morning when I woke folded against him, my head on his chest, not yet sleepily reaching for the alarm, I smiled – there was a dried flower petal pressed, like a good luck charm, perfectly in the hollow of his throat.
alright, we might be wrong, but what if we’re right?
Luxim labs recently unveiled an incredibly energy efficient light bulb that packs more luminosity than a street lamp into a pill-sized form factor. Each bulb is filled with argon gas, which turns to plasma when electricity is focused through it. The energy is driven to the bulb without electrodes. The resulting light is intensely bright and mirrors the quality of light radiated by the sun, yet is produced by one of the smallest, most energy efficient light sources we’ve seen.
Luxim, Pill bulb, tiny pill light bulb plasma bulb, halodes, super bright light bulb, eco lighting, green lighting, sustainable lighting, energy efficient lighting, lumen, pill-sized plasma bulb, argon gas, super-bulb, LED, light bulb
A substantial portion of energy is converted into light instead of heat, which makes the bulbs highly efficient. Each super-bulb produces a stunning 140 lumens per watt, doubling the output of high-end LEDs (70 lumens per watt) and leaving standard light bulbs in the dust (15 lumens per watt). While cost and longevity have yet to be released, these brilliant bulbs represent a bright future for energy efficient lighting.
I read about these brilliant innovations, and love them, but wonder if they’ll spread down from the top in enough time to help. Most of the light bulbs in my house are the twirled glass energy savers, my roommate and I trek across the alley to illicitly use the neighbor’s blue bins, we now have a balcony worm farm compost, and we shop as conscious consumers, as ethically as we can for every sort of product, be it food or clothing or cleaners. The same goes, likely, for most of my friends, but not, unfortunately, for the majority.
Which makes no sense.
From every angle I can see, it’s a good idea to go green, even if you’re one of the hidebound stalwarts who don’t believe the constant, savage news about climate change or the impending food crisis. If we prepare for the worst, we have a chance to handle the worst, if we prepare for nothing, we can’t handle anything at all. I think of it as a logic problem, preparing for the future, like Pascal’s Wager applied to the environment instead of religion. “If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing”
What do you do to try and make a change?
portrait sale!
just another day on earth, but with SYD freaking MEAD.
From Vancouver ACM SIGGRAPH, VISUAL FUTURIST: The Life & Art of Syd Mead.
“We are giddy with excitement. Why? Well, we’re turning 5 this May, and Syd Mead is coming to help us celebrate with a double feature – a presentation and Q&A with him, followed by a screening of Blade Runner: The Final Cut! Join us for the fun on May 14 at the Empire Theatre on Granville St. It has been years since Syd Mead, one of the most influential designers of our times, has been to Vancouver. He’ll be speaking about his approach to design and the visionary work with which he has made his indelible mark on popular culture and our perceptions of the future. But wait – there’s more! Our long-time supporter, Sophia Books, will be there with Syd’s latest DVD – you might even be able to get the man himself to sign a copy for you. On top of that, Tangible Interaction is coming back with their Zygotes – a massive interactive hands-on display of fun meeting technology that the whole crowd can take part in. Reserve your tickets now and don’t miss out on this huge event!”
“Syd Mead is a living legend amongst designers – he has been called a “visionary” and a “visual futurist”. From his beginnings in automotive design at Ford, Syd developed a style and philosophy that has spawned an enormous body of work filled with futuristic yet realistic creations. Syd’s work shaped the modern conception of the future with his designs for Blade Runner, Tron, Star Trek: The Motion Picture and Aliens. Films that forged a vision which still reverberates through the motion picture industry today. Few artists or designers have been as fortunate as to be involved with such a variety of industries around the world. Whether it be designs for vehicles, film, theme parks, interactive games, toys, products, theatre sets, ships, planes, or architecture, Syd has managed to leave his mark and provided his unique perspective each and every time. Today Syd lives and works in Southern California, where he continues to design, illustrate, speak and inspire. Mr. Mead will introduce the film.”
6:00 pm: Mixer
7:00 pm: Main Presentation
9:30 pm: Blade Runner: The Final Cut – FREE*
* Priority given to main presentation ticket holders
Members: $15 / Non-members: $25 / Groups (5+): $20 (online only)
artpost: not recent, but still interesting
Bike Accident, 2005
by Julie Fullerton Batten
From the surreal photography series Teenage Stories, using miniature villages and teenage girls.
struggling for recognition
I forgot how touch can feel like a shimmering, slow, soft electrocution. Waking up next to someone has been bringing me back to myself, grounding me in the rhythm of living again.
As surely as it’s a battle, I’ve been going through the acid steps required to rebuild my legal identity enough in order to exist enough to venture across the border. MJ wants me down there Memorial weekend for Sasquatch, a three day music festival of favourite bands. Because there’s an order to these things which isn’t immediately clear, I’ve been getting caught unprepared as different departments give me different requirements, all of which involve busing back and forth between staid, solid buildings lacking in friendly edges. Thankfully, however, my new birth certificate was couriered to me in a matter of days, (arriving, of course, while David and I were in the shower, leaving me to answer the door as a rain-soaked towel kitten), so today I can apply for a new SIN card, which will mean I can legally work again. The next item is a Change of Name Certificate, which lets me get a BCID, the non-driver’s answer to a photo ID*. And with that, I’m gold, I’m good to go.
I hope that I can unravel the most problematic snags today, find the right hoops to jump, and leap through with balletic if annoyed grace. Ah well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And I still need a day job.
*Yes, I’m working on the driver’s license thing, it is just slow here in BC-land. Three years slow, in fact. I need to move, this is known.
