I’ve Moved!

Hi friends,

I’ve started a new blog that I encourage you to look at.

http://lartnouveau.wordpress.com/

I hope you like it!

Tree, Myself, & I

Okay so the internet sucks here, I can’t even update my “À quoi pensez-vous?” on facebook let alone research something cool to talk about. That said, I have been very occupied with something a lot of you always have a load of questions about. So here is a quick synopsis on tree planting. If and ever you have or will consider it, let this be a warning appraisal to be revisited before you do anything stupid start sending out those application emails. It is:

Glamourous

Classy

Exotic

Lucrative

Taxing (mentally and physically)

Ronery

Rockwell

Your priorites may be different than mine but, I miss that damned cat like I’d miss a limb. Look at his face.

Look at him after his hair cut. Handsome devil.

Sigh.

Where to start – I’m sure your reasons for wanting to tree plant lie somewhere in between the lifestyle and the money, typically floating more towards the latter the more I tell you – so why don’t I start with that. I hope to entice a greater appreciation for the lifestyle part later in the dialogue. Yes, I make a lot of money but you, you will have to invest one, maybe two, years to start making what a seasoned planter makes. The good news is you get substatially better every year. The bad news of not making a lot the first year is only bad news if you suck. And as long as you are competitive and driven by money, you won’t suck! That’s not true. There’s more to it than that…

• Physically, the work itself is as you would imagine: arduous. But you get used to it.
• Mentally, the work can vary. A good day can be inspiring, like you didn’t know you had it in you! Au contraire, a bad day can resemble a constant upward slope on a time vs. how much you want to kill yourself graph. You might begin as keen as ever but by golly you will have days of total and absolute hatred for your job BUT you’ll still make more than minimum wage!
• Some companies do bush camps, where you are surrounded by at least 60 km of wilderness for the duration of your shift. Usually you can go into the nearest town on days off. Usually you get piss drunk.
• Some companies work from motels, like the one I’m at this year. It’s nice to have a bed to sleep on and TV to watch.
• Some companies have cooks. Some cook amazing food, some are lemons.
• Some companies don’t. Like this one. Usually motel shows lack cooks.
• You are paid by the tree – ranging from the coast to the plains of Manitoba, you can get 30 cents to 8 cents a tree, respectively.
• You get dirty. Not down, just dirty. Well you can get down too, debauchery is popular.
• You get to see places like no other (BC really is the most beautiful place on earth).
• You see bears. They eat your lunch sometimes.

A typical day looks like this: 6 AM. Wake up. Eat breakfast, make lunch, drink coffee. Hopefully use the bathroom so you don’t have to go in the woods. Check: boots, bags, shovel, lunch. Leave 7 AM. Drive to cut-block (30 min. to 2 hours). Get a piece of land. Get a bunch of trees. Bag up trees. Write them down. Put on sunscreen. Strap on bags. Plant trees. Back to cache. Bag up trees. Write them down. Eat a cookie. Drink water. Plant trees. Back to cache… 5 PM. Drive home. Shower. Dinner. Vice versa. Leisure time (socialize, hermitize). Sleep.

On your days off, depending on how many you get per shift (some companies do 5 on 2 off, 4 on 2 off, 3 on 1 off), you can do whatever the HELL you want. Personally, I like doing crosswords in the sun.

Sooo you do this for 2-3 months. It’s not a long haul, but you do miss summers in the city. You don’t have all yr friends, but you make new ones. You brush up on your guitar skills, you get super fit, you eat well, and hell you might even read a few books.

You come out smarter, healthier, better looking, and richer.

Hi, what’s your name?

T.

Mes amis,

Je viens de revenir de Toronto, je suis allé là avec une amie pour la fin de semaine. Dans quelque mots,

IL

ÉTAIT

IMPRESSIONNANT.

Trois mots être exact, trois mots exactement. J’ai entendu quelque revues tout à fait terrible du infâme Toronto. Mais, maintenant je ne suis pas si sûr. Je l’ai trouvé vraiment…. plaisant ! Peut-être c’était les personnes que j’étais avec, Dieu sait que ça fait un monde de la différence, mais la ville elle-même, elle était plein des personnes heureuses… prospérant sur les rues, mangeant tellement de la grande nourriture (écrasant la désintoxication que je faisais, essayais à faire), semblant heureux. Ah, ce pourrait avoir été le soleil. Je suis sûr que n’importe quelle ville est fantastique avec le soleil.

Quand même, dedans la voiture, là et retour, j’ai joué à quelque albums que j’ai pensé que je mettrais dans un (#) liste supérieur. Je dis toujours ça, mais je n’ai jamais fait actuellement un liste ! Donc, voilà. Voilà un liste de mes 10 albums supérieurs. (sans ordre)

The Black Keys – Rubber Factory

Buffalo Springfield – Retrospective

Cut Chemist – The Audience’s Listening

Finley Quaye – Maverick A Strike

Junior Boys – So This Is Goodbye

The Shins – Chutes Too Narrow

M. Ward – Post-War

Robyn – Robyn (Ya I said it.)

Third Eye Blind – S/T

The Verve – Urban Hymns

Là vous l’avez, appréciez!

La Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élégantes

Okay, I promise this post won’t be as weird as the last one. “Yikes,” as Meg would say.

While you should check out all of the winners of the World Press Photo contest of 2010, there is one series that struck me funny. Second prize winner for stories in Arts & Entertainment, Francesco Glusti of Italy shed light on a prestigious community of fashionable go-getters…. in the Congo! J’aimerais vous présenter La Société des Ambianceurs et des Personnes Élegantes (SAPE).

These gentlemen travel to Paris to inaugurate their careers in this “Society of Entertainers and Elegant People” by purchasing very expensive, haute couture from D&G to Dior. Coming from the very colorful African culture, naturally they choose exceptionally bright colors (and of course pair them with OTHER exceptionally bright colors). When they return home, they rent their purchases out (about 25$ a day for a suit), or sell them for a small profit to recuperate some costs.

But before they do that, they flaunt.

But even that’s not black and white! This is a sophisticated society after all, and what’s a club without it’s rules.

“Les plus grands sapeurs ainsi que les « Sapologues » les plus avisés s’accordent à dire que des codes très stricts régissent cet art du XXe siècle.

1. Rester élégant dans la sobriété, ce qui veut dire ne pas assembler plus de deux couleurs dans une même tenue (chaussettes comprises)
2. Ne jamais exhiber les marques et savoir se montrer réservé et modeste quant aux prix dépensés dans ces vêtements de qualité
3. Toujours arborer une attitude discrète et modérée dans les lieux publiques
4. Toujours marcher droit et dignement, avec retenue, tels les aristocrates français du XVIe arrondissement, inspiration majeure de ce mouvement”

(The biggest sapeurs as well as the most informed “Sapologues” agree to say that very strict codes govern this art of the 20th century.

1. Stay elegant in the sobriety, that means assembling no more than two colors in the same outfit (including shoes).
2. Never show the labels and know how to be reserved and show modesty in regards to the price of these clothes of quality.
3. Always have a discreet and moderated attitude in public.
4. Always walk with dignity, with restraint, such as the French aristocrats of the 16th district (in Paris), the major inspiration of this movement.)

It’s a tough love, being a sapeur. With such marginal profit, it doesn’t put you at the top of the food chain. That’s for sure. But believe me they are the “dappest” of the dapper gentlemen in all of their country, and not a lot of people can say that.

Paradise

Hello Friends,

I was reminiscing about some dreams with a new friend the other day… he ran across the city to make it to my café (which is only open for a half an hour), and upon arrival he was steaming as much as the fresh baked banana bread that I make each morning. He brought hot bagels from Fairmount, I supplied the hot coffee, and the following hot topic was brewed from two minds of great spiritual curiousity, cos that’s what we (I) do.

Although I’m not at liberty to disclose Richard’s dreams, I would love to share one of mine with you! I forgot about it for a while, but in bringing back out of the depths of my mind, I realize it is quite an interesting dream. The fragments that I remember may lack fluidity, but I’ll try my best.

The setting is nothing special; I am wading in a slow-moving river. It is cool compared to the hot summer air, and the massive amout of water flowing by is holding my body lightly. The reflections of light off the water are too bright to keep my eyes open, so I peacefully oblige to close them… and so I fall into a dream-like state.

At this point, I suddenly have a goal. And the goal is to, for sure mentally, but perhaps even physically reach paradise, enlightenment, heaven – I’m not really sure what but whatever it is, it equals eternal euphoria. The way I can reach this place is through chemically changing the structure of my brain –> my reality… So when I acheived that structure, it would be the key to enlightenment and I would be in this place. And to be in this place was what I wanted more than life itself. I was aware of my life, my real life. I was aware I was dreaming (in the river), and I was aware I was in a dream-like state in my dream, and I was in control of my consciousness. I also knew it was possible this was “just a silly dream”, thus I could wake up, think about it, forget it, whatever. But I believed it was real (I believe it was real?), and in the case of that possibility I didn’t care if I died, dissipated, or went into a coma in the real world, if I could just get to that place… it would be worth it.

I tried for hours! I would come close, and then lose the arrangement. Almost! Then gone…. Again and again. When I described it to Stevie some months ago when I had the dream, I compared it to an orgasm except the orgasm would last forever! (I know what your thinking, and uh, no. That wasn’t happening.)

Well, I never got there. I think I eventually gave up.

 

Keep Cool Creek = Heaven

 

It troubles me like the plague to not know what would have happened. I have guilt from willing to give up my life to get to this place. But I don’t regret trying.

Is that bad?

 

They were from the past.

I got a couple of really old rolls of film developed. Je suis trés contente avec les résulats.

The following are from a Ultronic Panoramic point & shoot, which you may have seen littering the shelves of your local Value Village, priced to sell.

And this came out from the first roll I developed from my Kodak Kodex No.1. I bought this camera in Creston, BC in an antique shop off the side of the highway. I knew it probably didn’t work just like the rest of the junk in there, but I’m a sucker and I tried anyway.

Somebody likes me out there ‘cos look what turned out!

Beautiful. They are an exquisite couple I met in Winnipeg, named Terry and Alicia… they were from the past. I’m going to post them this photo when I get a chance, it’s definitely something they should have!

Although I like the Ultronic Panoramic (neck strap, lightweight, one button), I think it’s only because the shape is appealing to the eye. The quality isn’t that great, even to my Ultralow standards. I even used good quality film, as always. You can get this shape with any camera, with cropping. But it’s not the same when you have to see the whole photo, and choose where to crop it. So… what’s better? J’sais pas.

But, the Kodak…. I’m really excited about this camera because it tests my entire theory about photography & me. You see, I am drawn to the idea of accomodating. I like to do it, I like the feeling of doing it, I like doing it for the people in my life as well as the places, and furthermore, the objects.

Namely, cameras! I like to accomodate the camera, instead of changing the camera to accomodate me. For photographers, you’d think it would be quite the opposite, and in almost all cases, it is: adjusting the type of film, the type of camera, exposure times, apertures blah blahblahblah to capture what you perceive, how you perceive it, or how you want it to be perceived by manipulation. It’s a very complicated love because there are infinite variables…

Now say you removed one part that had about 30,000 variables (the modern camera), and replaced it with its most simplest form (a shitty Holga). How many variables do you have now? [1 plus 1 minus ... divided by ......] Well, it’s still infinite but a little bit less so… a little bit less infinite.

By catering to the camera and it’s imperfections, I let the camera make the art. I just take the photo. Take the third photo in the series up top. That’s a photo of my niece, Kylie. Aww. The big white spiky blob is either a light reflection on the lens when the photo was taken, or a light leakage onto the film while developing. I don’t know about you but I think it adds to the photo! I think it’s interesting. If I was to put something like that as an ” abstract artistic addition”, I would have no idea where to put it, why I would put it there, or what it “meant”.

But because it’s just there, placed precisely with no human thought, it doesn’t have meaning. But it’s still art.

Is it an inferior art? Superior?

Who’s the artist, then? Me? Or my cameras?

Save the Bees, Save the World

Omgomgomgomgomg! Breaking world news! New scientific evidence of why the bees are vanishing from our meadows, and you will never believe how our researchers came to discover this devastating reality…

A video was released of the travesty at hand, an institution named Menomena has the answers.

Well, I guess we could start by getting rid of those freaky tank-birds.

Ah, I’m just kidding. I’m just going through a massive music-replenishing binge. And although it’s day 2, I stumbled upon Menomena, an old favorite of mine that I feel is terribly underlistened-to. Enjoy the inaccurately named, Evil Bee.

And to reward my hard and largely futile efforts, I found this.

They reminded me of what Junior Boys must have been like in their preambling days. Needless to say they charmed the pants off me. SO CUTE! (and good)