My daily walk

I decided to take a few pictures while on my walk this morning; a memory, in case development creeps further in and modifies the surroundings yet again. The pictures were all taken with my old-fashioned flip-phone (I don’t like to carry too much on my walks).

I usually start by walking to 108th. In the photo below, the A-frame church on 108th can be seen in the distance, in the lower center of the picture (to be precise, it’s the St. Georges Coptic Orthodox Church).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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It’s about six blocks to Hawthorne park, and I walk on the north side of the park until I get to the first entrance. Below is a photo of some of the flowering salmon-berry bushes alongside the walkway:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are three duck-ponds in the park; when the flora is green and healthy, it can be difficult to see the water.

Below is a picture of the pond closest to the west end of the park (a portion of the pond is visible as a brownish patch in the lower center).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The gardens at Hawthorne are pleasant to walk through on a weekend morning; quiet, peaceful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I don’t usually walk by Minerva, but this morning I did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The playground was empty, but I walked around anyway…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unless I’m feeling particularly lazy, I walk around the park and onto 104th; I turn east, an empty business development on my left. It is an interesting building; perfect for a tàijíquán, yoga or Buddhist base.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I exit the sidewalk on 104th as soon as possible by turning north into a cul-de-sac; near the end of this street a Hydro-path cuts through the forest to the west and houses on the east (to my left). This morning the hydro lines were humming: hnnngdznnngnnndz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Hydro-path (as I call it) is a nice use of land that has no commercial value. The path was (I presume) built by B.C. Hydro: there was always a path, of sorts, through the wilderness, but the well-maintained walkway makes it a tad more inviting, especially when the wildflowers are in bloom…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Hydro path crosses over a small creek, but at this time of year  the bushes and flowers obscure the waters…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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As I was about to leave the Hydro path this morning, onto the roadway at the other end, a bird flew over me and into the forest; as it passed overhead it called to me: follow me, follow. But I continued on my way.

As always, with any walk, there is a path not taken…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I usually don’t cut through the empty lot down the block, but this morning the path was inviting (it can be a bit threatening at dawn & dusk)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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In the (very large) empty lot, there are a couple of old trees that blew over in a wind-storm several years ago, but the trees are still alive and healthy. The picture below was taken a while ago, when one of them was flowering (as you can see, part of the lot has a nice gravel trail through it, provided by the City of Surrey. At one time, a park was planned for the land, but I’m thinking the administrators might change their mind if a developer makes an offer. I hope not):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The picture below is the final bit of the empty lot; civilization is just behind the row of trees, and I can almost see my home…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Well, that’s about it. I missed out quite a few spots, but I might do this again in the fall (and maybe with a better camera).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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An Afternoon at Bear Creek Park

It’s not often that I can get the whole family (myself, my wife, Catherine, and my two daughters, Bailey & Brynne) out for a walk anymore, but I managed the feat last weekend, and we enjoyed a lovely stroll through and around Bear Creek Park.

It was a beauteous day: the universe opened up above us with all its potential resplendence; nevertheless, none of the images I recorded for posterity documented anything much higher than my shoelaces. Below are a couple of examples: the top image was the highest extraterrestrial vector I managed…

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nordin seruyan; images

I was led to the images of Nordin Seruyan through hovercraftdoggy

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http://500px.com/nordinseruyan

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Tomás Saraceno

I was directed to an interesting exhibit by hovercraftdoggy: 

The K21 Staendehaus museum in Düsseldorf, Germany unleashed  Tomás Saraceno, who installed a troika of safety nets as an interactive work entitled In Orbit. The netting can be accessed at several different locations in the museum.

 

© Studio Saraceno & Kunstsammlung NRW

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For more information/images, check out:

The K21 Staendehaus museum

Tomás Saraceno

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Carpe Noctem; a Group Exhibition

My daughter, Brynne, is part of an art exhibition that begins this Friday; it is a group gallery, which showcases works from all the students in her class at  the Emily Carr University of Art & Design. As a proud father I have to point out that one of Brynne’s works is included on the announcement card (see below). It should be an interesting exhibit; if you’re in Vancouver between March 28th and April 5th, check out The Fall Gallery on 644 Seymour St.

The other side of the card highlights a piece by Alison McLeod, one of Brynne’s classmates:

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A wonderful memory

My youngest daughter, Brynne, was watching America’s Funniest Home Videos, and I paused for a moment as a woman accidentally bonked someone’s forehead with a frying pan; a memory burbled up from the depths…

Bailey, my eldest daughter, was probably three. We had just walked to the corner store for juice; once inside the store, I headed straight to the back and turned left, down the glass-door-fridge aisle. Bailey, full of energy, decided to run down the previous aisle; in retrospect, I realize that she was racing me (to be honest, I may have known at-the-time that it was a race (I can be quite competitive)). I took three long strides and opened the glass door in front of the juices; contemporaneously, Bailey burst from around the corner, smacked into the thick glass-door, and fell backward onto the floor, landing on her posterior end. I closed the door and said, “Oh my God; I’m so sorry.”

She pushed herself back up and dusted off her knees; then she said, “Dat’s otay Daddy,” and held her arms out for a big hug.

What a wonderful memory…

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A frosted sunrise

I went for an early walk this morning. The sun was just rising, the flora was frosted; and the air was cool, near freezing. A beautifully brittle glow pervaded the environs. I took many pictures (with my ‘unsmart’ cellphone), and the photo below comes closest to the wondrous sensation I felt; an indescribable beginning to my day…

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Steely Dan; Katie Lied

Steely Dan‘s exceptional album Katie Lied (their fourth, in 1975) was released during the second half of my high-school graduation year (it seems like another lifetime…). It was the second Dan album I’d heard (after their 1972 debut, Can’t Buy a Thrill; for some reason I’d missed Countdown to Ecstasy (arguably their best album) and Pretzel Logic). Katie Lied amazed me at the time and, through the years, I’ve learned to appreciate the album’s depths even more. Several notable musicians appear on the credits, including Rick Derringer and Larry Carlton on guitars, and Phil Wood on tenor sax. I just listened to the CD; the sound is a bit muddy, so I’ve decided to buy the remastered version (are you listening Santa?). Today, three of the songs caught my attention:

Black Friday. While Walter Becker and Donald Fagan were on Marian McPartland’s Piano Jazz NPR show (the album was released in 2005), Fagan confirmed that the song’s meaning is steeped in the miasma of the great depression (some have suggested that it gazed into the future).

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Doctor Wu. According to Brian Sweet (from his 1994 book, Steely Dan: Reelin’ in the Years), Fagen said that the song is about a love/dope triangle involving a girl who is attracted to someone with a dangerous lifestyle. The dope habit is personified as Dr. Wu (Are you with me Doctor Wu?/Are you really just a shadow/of the man that I once knew?). The girl comes under the domination of someone else and the previous relationship is ended or altered. The album’s title is echoed in the lyrics:

I went searching for the song
You used to sing to me …
Katy lies;
You could see it in her eyes

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Your Gold Teeth II. Among other things, this song is an echo of my favourite Dan song (Your Gold Teeth, a seven-minute tribute to hard bop from Countdown to Ecstasy):

Who are these children
Who scheme and run wild?
Who speak with their wings
And the way that they smile?
What are the secrets
They trace in the sky?
And why do you tremble
Each time they ride by?

For me, the album assembles a cloud of nostalgia, but it brings new impressions each time I listen.

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Walking; wonderful moments

A while ago, while out for my daily walk, I saw a Buddhist monk walking toward me.

It was a clear, crisp morning; an ephemeral mist hugged the earth. It was close to zero Celsius, but I was quite warm; I’d been walking at a good clip for over thirty minutes.

The monk looked cold: he was walking very slowly, meditatively.

I was dressed in jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt, baseball cap, and sandals. The monk was dressed in robes the colour of paprika and cumin. His outer robe (I believe it’s called the sanghati) was pulled high on his body and he used part of it as a scarf, covering his chin, mouth, and ears. His legs were bare and he was carrying something in his hands; it was palm-sized, black and smooth. I wondered if it was a heated stone to keep his hands warm.

I thought about stopping and starting a conversation, but wasn’t sure it was appropriate and I decided that a visit to the Buddhist temple would be the proper etiquette. I’ll probably never go; it seems intimidating, although I’m sure I’d be welcomed.

As I approached the monk, I nodded my head and said, “Good morning.”

He smiled, pressed his palms together in front of his chest, bowed slightly, and said something back to me.

Holy beings are surrounded by a remarkable aura of peace and equanimity. I’d made only a fleeting connection with the man, but he was fully engaged for that moment. We passed each other, and for the remainder of my walk I felt lighter, my feet seemed to barely touch the earth. Something warm and beautiful stirred my soul. I couldn’t quite set it free — I think I tried too hard — but it is there, incubating, sure to find its way someday.

Since then, while on my walk, I smile, nod, and say hello to anyone I pass; usually, I get a stunning smile back. What a wonderful moment.

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Glitch Art

I was listening to the radio on the way home from work and Phil Stearns was discussing Glitch Art with the Host of the show (Nora Young, on CBC’s Spark). I’d never heard of the art-form before, so I did a little digging when I got home.

Phillip Stearns is an artist who works “with electronics and electronic media.” Mr. Stearns, and other glitch artists, find a fascination with those moments when a screen goes black, blue, or green, or when images pixelate and freeze. These artist insist that there is beauty in these glitches, and they not only capture the images for posterity, but work to create ‘defective’ digital images.

I visited a site where anyone can create their own glitch art; a do-it-yourself image glitch experiment. It’s fun, but I found it somewhat frustrating: I couldn’t manipulate the image quite like I wanted, but maybe that is a function of the random element of the art-form. I played around for quite a while until I ‘created’ my finished work.

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