Showing posts with label Jian Ghomeshi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jian Ghomeshi. Show all posts

Monday, September 23, 2013

Words Fallsy Downsies in 1982

Word On The Street was FANTASTIC!  What a gorgeous day I had wandering around the Halifax waterfront, mingling with gentle souls, drinking coffee, fondling and buying books, enjoying everything literary.  I also took in two dazzling author readings by Halifax’s Stephanie Domet and the infallible Jian Ghomeshi .


Stephanie Domet engaged us with an animated reading from her impressive and forthcoming novel “Fallsy Downsies”.  I am currently reading her first novel entitled “Homing” and I am deeply in love with her writing style and her storytelling skills.  She has a fresh, vibrant voice and I admire her passion for her craft.  I’ve been reading her work for years, when she wrote for The Coast and am enjoying her creative writing.  It is evident from her characters, her story structure and themes that she pays careful attention and applies a great deal of love to the pressure of her pen.  She will be launching “Fallsy Downsies” on October 23rd at 6:30pm at The Carleton, I look forward to buying a copy and having the chance to say hello.


Stephanie also had the pleasure of introducing Jian Ghomeshi who was this year’s headliner in the CBC More Than Words tent, set to read from his chart topping, recently released in trade paperback, creative non-fiction effort called “1982”.  I finished reading it on Friday so I would be primed for this engagement and it made his reading that much more compelling.

“1982” is a heartfelt account of an Iranian-Canadian teen, obsessed with Bowie, in love with an older girl, a music obsessed New Waver coming of age in the 1980s.  The universal themes of the book are noted as the triumphs of outsiders and a love for music.  What kid didn’t feel like they totally didn’t fit in in high school?  What kid didn’t fall in love with someone they thought was cool and perhaps out of their league?   I identified with some of the emotions and insecurities he shared but most of all I shared his passion for music.  In the book he talks about how when he was a kid, to go and buy music was such a labor of love.  These days, when you like a song, you can click a button and it is yours.  In the 80s, it was literally a pilgrimage.  He describes the long journeys to acquire a record and that story choked me up because I saw myself in it, climbing on a bus in Eastern Passage to make my way to Barrington Street to Sam The Record Man.  Entering the store was just like heaven, multiple floors worth.  If you wanted music then, you had no choice but to travel for it.  And believe me; you had to love what you were in pursuit for to make that trip.  Just like Jian and his pal, I would buy my record, get back on the bus, devour the liner notes and memorize every last inch of the artwork before I even got back to my stereo to listen.  When he talked about this portion of the book yesterday, I filled up again, with nostalgia, with gratitude that I was fortunate enough to live at a time when music was exciting and sacred and sad for the kids that came up after me who will never understand the impending joy of such a jaunt.


Jian Ghomeshi is described as polite and inclusive as an interviewer but the same can be said for his presenting style.  He spoke to an ardent audience yesterday, enjoying a harmonious exchange inspiring a great deal of laughter, introspection and an all-around feel-good atmosphere.  Jian is dedicated to his work, a proud Canadian and a humanist through and through.  He is also six times more beautiful in person than he is on TV.  He lifted hearts yesterday, tickled funny bones and made everyone’s day he came in contact with.  Not a bad day’s work, eh?  I absentmindedly left my copy of the book on my nightstand so I had him sign the back cover of my writing book instead, the book I bought for myself at the Leonard Cohen show.  I apologized for forgetting but thought since it was the year of encountering all of my favorite Canadians, it seemed fitting to have him sign something Cohen.  I also expressed to him the same as I did here, about how that passage of his book moved me to tears thinking about my former self.  It seemed to touch him but I am sure he hears that often and it must feel good to know he has put something into the world that isn’t only universal but emotionally monumental to like-minded people like me.

(You can see the top of my head!)

It was a perfect day.  I hated for it to end but the feeling of contentment and peace lingers. 

On the writing front, I’m knee deep into ‘Too Much To Contain’.  I took myself out for a bit of an artist date on Saturday and worked out some details and wrote them out later that night in my writing room complete with the music that I need to fuel the difficult range of emotions required.  That is still proving to be a challenge for me.  My heart tends to be too big and soft to conjure acts of violence on the page.  I am trying.
                             
I am back to the grind today, working for the man.  The weekend already feels like it is a million miles away but my heart is still full.  I love that feeling.

In propinquity,
Nic



Sunday, September 15, 2013

Hear My Heart Trumpet


Hear My Heart Trumpet

overlook pages of dis-assembled scribbles
erase literal interpretations of daily deeds

hear my heart trumpet

announcing a sequence of graceful commands
advising a pocketful of stunning photos to dance

hear my heat trumpet

for tiny miracles independent of my original story
for immaculate heavy-lidded choreographies splaying

hear my heart trumpet hear its discourse hear its song

hear my heart trumpet a steady poetic meter

a salute

prepared to pursue the path of reasonable compromise
with someone who is much less suitable to the cause

my heart trumpets

for change
for sameness
for shelter
for dancing
for dreaming

hear my heart trumpet

**


Joyful moments (since Thursday) in point form:

-       my book buying adventure on Thursday (I bought ‘1982’ by Jian Ghomesi, ‘Homing’ by Stephanie Domet and ‘Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Bookstore’)
-       yummy dinner and edits at The Carleton and encountering my Grade 5 teacher, Mrs. MacKenzie
-       arriving home to a package waiting for me from my dear friend Elspeth and inside was her novel ‘Sole’ (on sale now at Amazon.com)
-       making a tattoo appointment to finally fix and complete the only ink I will ever have
-       curling up in a rain storm with blankets and pillows with movies and tea after a long Friday
-       seeing my dear friend try on her wedding dress for the first time
-       spending the whole day browsing for bridesmaid dresses with her
-       hanging out with my mom and talking to her
-       watching Eat Pray Love
-       sleeping in
-       enjoying a coffee and the sunshine with my best friend on the Halifax Commons
-       visiting my dear friend Sharon on her birthday
-       writing the enclosed poem while listening to the new Civil Wars record
-       new sheets fresh out of the dryer to rest in on a Sunday before a Monday
-       daydreaming
-       praying
-       counting blessings
-       text messages that make me laugh outloud

Happy Sunday.  Back to work tomorrow, one long week before Word On The Street.  And, I hope to have a good deal more written on ‘Too Much To Contain’ before then.  Fingers crossed.

In propinquity,
Nic



Thursday, July 25, 2013

Where The Possibilities of Humiliation & Failure are Ample

Where The Possibilities of Humiliation & Failure are Ample

it is a dangerous arena, love
an unruly action, to love
a reverie to submit to, to be loved

you sing for them, your lovers
we read to them, our paramours
they trounce us, the Muses

in love’s amphitheater
a procession to up-end all illusions
pageantry of strange beauties

to prepare you for the firing squad
to show you how to dodge the bullets
to set you up to face heart starvation

it is a dangerous arena, love
it is a precarious quandary, love
it is unwarranted mischief, love

love

the place where the promise of
humiliation and failure are ample

exposed hearts be wary, take heed
eager accomplices, become ensnared

in the madness, to endure forever

**

Something more inspired by the one and only Leonard Cohen.  The title of this poem is a direct quote from the interview he did with Jian Ghomeshi.  I stumbled onto it after learning Ghomeshi will be a headliner for this year’s Word On The Street book and magazine fair, reading from his critically acclaimed book, 1982 (which I STILL need a copy of but will wait until August 6th for the trade paperback edition to come out).  Excited by the news and penciling the date in my calendar so I don’t miss it, I browsed Jian’s website and found the interview.  Mid-way through I started writing this little poem, another little writing exercise to help keep my head above water.  I’m slowly moving back into my prose.  I wrote a little more on ‘Large-Hearted’ yesterday.  I wasn’t feeling especially well in the afternoon and started to daydream about being home, curled up and resting when my lonely brain stumbled on a revelation for the story.  It came as a wee flash so I did the responsible thing; I opened up the document and started typing despite feeling light-headed and queasy.  I was still at my work desk so I was required to be lucid and awake, keeping busy was the best way to distract myself from the yuck.  I’m pretty sure that I have completed the framework of the story and found its ending but I now have the task of fleshing it out and editing before it can be shared.   Watch this space.  In the meantime, the poetry is free-flowing.  I’ve built up a bit of a reserve now.  Most of them still need a bit of work and will be blogged shortly.

I’m still not feeling one hundred percent myself today and it’s raining like a bitch outside, it’s been wet all week in fact and there’s no sign of sun until at least Sunday if we’re lucky.  This summer’s weather has been undesirable.  Between week long stretches of nothing but rain that morph into record-breaking heatwave-ish days, it’s been fairly uncomfortable.  When it rains, outdoor activities are limited and when it’s so hot and humid that you can’t breathe, outdoor activities are also limited.  I long for a nice stretch of warm, true summer weather, sunshine, a warm breeze and enjoying it, outdoors.  Is that too much to ask for?  If any of you have an in with Mother Nature, can you see what you can do about my request?  I’d be most grateful.

Perhaps I’ll peek more at ‘Large-Hearted’ after this blog is complete, since it’s fairly quiet on the work front.  You watch, I say that now but as soon as I turn to my pages, it’ll get bonkers busy.  Murphy’s Law.

Enjoy your day.  Pay a kindness forward.

In propinquity,
Nic