Ariel Gordon's Blog, page 70
January 18, 2012
Foote fetish
So I've been working on the project described by this article non-stop the past few weeks. And it's the first time that I've been so proud of / excited about a day-job project...
Now, don't get the wrong idea. I take pride in ONLY working-for-money for organizations whose work I believe in. And I've often felt a sense of accomplishment at work when a project is complete.
But this is different...
I think my zip-zippy-ness can be attributed to the fact that as someone interested in Winnipeg's history generally - and as a poet who worked specifically on a poetry/photography project focused on Winnipeg derelict buildings - I've spent a lot of time with L.B. Foote's photos over the years.
Since that time, my interest in photography has grown, though I have very little interest in anything NOT found in the woods.
And then there's the fact that M's a news photographer, that he shoots many of the same things that Foote would have shot.
On a day to day basis, I hear M's stories about the subjects who grumbled about having their pictures taken, about the flood waters he's waded through, the scrums he's wedged himself into. I've washed the smoke out of his clothes after he's spent the morning at a fire and tried to spot him on the sidelines of televised football games.
So let's just say I'm strangely aligned with Foote.
So the prospect of working not only on the book UMP is publishing of his pics but also on a side project to find/share new Foote photos...well, let's just say I'm over the moooon.
For those of you unaware of Foote's work, here's a bio:
Born in Newfoundland in 1873, Lewis Benjamin Foote arrived in Winnipeg in 1902, where he bought a house on Gertrude Avenue and began a career as a professional photographer. For more than 50 years, Foote's photographs chronicled the development of the city. He was an active photographer until 1947 and died ten years later.
Now, don't get the wrong idea. I take pride in ONLY working-for-money for organizations whose work I believe in. And I've often felt a sense of accomplishment at work when a project is complete. But this is different...
I think my zip-zippy-ness can be attributed to the fact that as someone interested in Winnipeg's history generally - and as a poet who worked specifically on a poetry/photography project focused on Winnipeg derelict buildings - I've spent a lot of time with L.B. Foote's photos over the years.
Since that time, my interest in photography has grown, though I have very little interest in anything NOT found in the woods.
And then there's the fact that M's a news photographer, that he shoots many of the same things that Foote would have shot.
On a day to day basis, I hear M's stories about the subjects who grumbled about having their pictures taken, about the flood waters he's waded through, the scrums he's wedged himself into. I've washed the smoke out of his clothes after he's spent the morning at a fire and tried to spot him on the sidelines of televised football games.
So let's just say I'm strangely aligned with Foote.
So the prospect of working not only on the book UMP is publishing of his pics but also on a side project to find/share new Foote photos...well, let's just say I'm over the moooon.
For those of you unaware of Foote's work, here's a bio:
Born in Newfoundland in 1873, Lewis Benjamin Foote arrived in Winnipeg in 1902, where he bought a house on Gertrude Avenue and began a career as a professional photographer. For more than 50 years, Foote's photographs chronicled the development of the city. He was an active photographer until 1947 and died ten years later.
January 16, 2012
Bird boxing 2
Frozen rotten eggs. Duds. But: so beautiful, nestled in the down and straw.
Bird boxing
All photos Fort Whyte Alive, Winnipeg, MB. January 16, 2012.
* * *
Last year, we picked up snowshoeing. Or, more precisely, we picked up snowshoes at FortWhyte and tried them out. We liked it...and one of our 'projects' while snowshoeing is to hike on the little lakes, moving from bird box to bird box. We look for any leftovers from the growing season: duck eggs/shells, feathers, grasses.
We got our own snowshoes for Xmas this year, which was a lovely surprise. And they're not as wide as the ones we used at Fort Whyte, so we had to sort of adjust our stance. They also came with poles, which gave us occasion for endless fiddling.
And then there was the ten minute blizzard.
But I noticed these lichen clusters on the lid of one of the bird boxes and borrowed M's camera. And made everyone pause for a second under the falling snow.
January 10, 2012
What I've been doing...or not doing.
So I've been spending heaps of time lately, both at work and at home, riffling yellowed pages.
At work, we're preparing for the publication of a book of L.B. Foote photos, introduced and prepared by historian Esyllt Jones.
The pic on the left is from a quick visit we made to the Archives of Manitoba to look at Foote's notebooks, clippings and ledgers...in addition to the nearly 3,000 images they have in the Foote Collection.
Given that Foote documented Winnipeg and environs for nearly five decades, it's clear that the 3,000 images at the archives can only constitute a fraction of the photos he shot.
So we've issued a call to the public so that we might unearth some of the 'lost' Foote photos. And I've started a blog to document this process, which means that I've been thinking about photographs and ephemera and Winnipeg history on someone else's dime.
Which is really best-case scenario for me...of course, I'm tempted to start writing poems to some of the pics, but I need to get more work done on my solely-neglected manuscripts before I even think about taking on a new project.
Speaking of which, the pic on the right was taken at the end of a writing day, just before I reluctantly put everything away and started dinner. They're Edison biographies, the earliest of which is from 1929 and the latest 1989, and I've been rooting around, trying to build a timeline from the conflicting accounts of a minor character...
...who's a major character for me, of course. A main witness.
This is the most rudderless I've ever been, writing wise. Usually, I write poems and then I edit them. With this work, I've been reading and reading and scribbling, but nothing that resembles a poem.
But they might eventually resemble a poem or several poems. And for now, that's enough...
At work, we're preparing for the publication of a book of L.B. Foote photos, introduced and prepared by historian Esyllt Jones. The pic on the left is from a quick visit we made to the Archives of Manitoba to look at Foote's notebooks, clippings and ledgers...in addition to the nearly 3,000 images they have in the Foote Collection.
Given that Foote documented Winnipeg and environs for nearly five decades, it's clear that the 3,000 images at the archives can only constitute a fraction of the photos he shot.
So we've issued a call to the public so that we might unearth some of the 'lost' Foote photos. And I've started a blog to document this process, which means that I've been thinking about photographs and ephemera and Winnipeg history on someone else's dime.
Which is really best-case scenario for me...of course, I'm tempted to start writing poems to some of the pics, but I need to get more work done on my solely-neglected manuscripts before I even think about taking on a new project.
Speaking of which, the pic on the right was taken at the end of a writing day, just before I reluctantly put everything away and started dinner. They're Edison biographies, the earliest of which is from 1929 and the latest 1989, and I've been rooting around, trying to build a timeline from the conflicting accounts of a minor character...
...who's a major character for me, of course. A main witness.
This is the most rudderless I've ever been, writing wise. Usually, I write poems and then I edit them. With this work, I've been reading and reading and scribbling, but nothing that resembles a poem.
But they might eventually resemble a poem or several poems. And for now, that's enough...
January 8, 2012
Artist mothers
So many moons ago Amy Karlinsky, arts writer extraordinaire, asked me to facilitate a visual art/literary workshop for artist mums with her.
The artist mums in question are a sub-group of MAWA (or Mentoring Artists for Women's Art), a nifty non-profit organization in town.
I agreed and we dubbed it Readings and Creative Writing for Artist Mothers Workshop. (Surprise, surprise, huh?)
We've had two sessions to date, which we crammed full of feminist art history, first-person accounts from artist mothers, and writing exercizes as well as slide shows of paintings, photographs, and sculptures. And poems. Always poems.
Today we did a writing exercize that focused on body parts. Ten minutes on the "mommy" parts - belly/breasts/uterus/vagina - and another ten on the "other" body parts – elbows, knees, calves, ankles, earlobes.
(Though I usually don't do my own exercizes, today I wrote on my belly and bony elbows.)
Next, we did a mixed media (or collage) exercize. People had the option of incorporating the text we'd just generated but mostly we just threw paints and chalk and oil pastels and markers at people and asked them to come up with SOMETHING.
Anyways, it was a lovely afternoon. And I have this pic to show for it in addition to a LARGE oil pastel drawing of my elbows.
The artist mums in question are a sub-group of MAWA (or Mentoring Artists for Women's Art), a nifty non-profit organization in town.
I agreed and we dubbed it Readings and Creative Writing for Artist Mothers Workshop. (Surprise, surprise, huh?)We've had two sessions to date, which we crammed full of feminist art history, first-person accounts from artist mothers, and writing exercizes as well as slide shows of paintings, photographs, and sculptures. And poems. Always poems.
Today we did a writing exercize that focused on body parts. Ten minutes on the "mommy" parts - belly/breasts/uterus/vagina - and another ten on the "other" body parts – elbows, knees, calves, ankles, earlobes.
(Though I usually don't do my own exercizes, today I wrote on my belly and bony elbows.)
Next, we did a mixed media (or collage) exercize. People had the option of incorporating the text we'd just generated but mostly we just threw paints and chalk and oil pastels and markers at people and asked them to come up with SOMETHING.
Anyways, it was a lovely afternoon. And I have this pic to show for it in addition to a LARGE oil pastel drawing of my elbows.
January 4, 2012
A look back at the books of 2011
Free Press reviewers recall favourite reads this year
Winnipeg Free Press - PRINT EDITION
By now, all the awards have been handed out and the sales figures tabulated. The best books of 2011 have been chewed over endlessly in recent weeks, and so have the bestsellers.
This year, as a New Year's Eve retrospective, we asked Free Press reviewers to choose a few favourites — titles they loved that might have been overlooked.
Here are their choices, with excerpts from their reviews, listed alphabetically.
Non-fiction
Cow: A Bovine Biography,
by Florian Werner
"Werner reminds us that bovines are inextricably linked to humans, and thinking more deeply about our relationship with them can show us a new perspective on our own humanity." — Julie Kentner
It's So Easy,
by Duff McKagan
"The Guns N' Roses co-founder and former bassist's memoir is sobering stuff — and it makes for a compelling read." — David Jón Fuller
Poetry
Nobody Move,
by Susan Stenson
"The Victoria poet/publisher's latest book is full of well-worn husbands, of sex and childhood and shaggy dogs." — Ariel Gordon
L'il Bastard,
by David McGimpsey
"McGimpsey takes a fun approach to a timeworn poetic form, with hilarious 'chubby sonnets' of 16 lines exploring a life filled to bursting with wit, wordplay, and tacos." — Jonathan Ball
Winnipeg Free Press - PRINT EDITION
By now, all the awards have been handed out and the sales figures tabulated. The best books of 2011 have been chewed over endlessly in recent weeks, and so have the bestsellers.
This year, as a New Year's Eve retrospective, we asked Free Press reviewers to choose a few favourites — titles they loved that might have been overlooked.Here are their choices, with excerpts from their reviews, listed alphabetically.
Non-fiction
Cow: A Bovine Biography,
by Florian Werner
"Werner reminds us that bovines are inextricably linked to humans, and thinking more deeply about our relationship with them can show us a new perspective on our own humanity." — Julie Kentner
It's So Easy,
by Duff McKagan
"The Guns N' Roses co-founder and former bassist's memoir is sobering stuff — and it makes for a compelling read." — David Jón Fuller
Poetry
Nobody Move,
by Susan Stenson
"The Victoria poet/publisher's latest book is full of well-worn husbands, of sex and childhood and shaggy dogs." — Ariel Gordon
L'il Bastard,
by David McGimpsey
"McGimpsey takes a fun approach to a timeworn poetic form, with hilarious 'chubby sonnets' of 16 lines exploring a life filled to bursting with wit, wordplay, and tacos." — Jonathan Ball
December 29, 2011
stumped
All images Assiniboine Forest, Winnipeg, MB. December 29, 2011.
* * *
Fresh snow on deer paths. A single squirrel, some birdsong, and an empty parking lot.
(I picked up The Hidden Life of Deer: Lessons from the Natural World by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas at McNally Robinson on the way home. It's about a shortage of acorns...)
December 28, 2011
How to Keep a Relationship Fresh
"New relationships are exciting and invigorating. How can you keep that spunk and vitality in a long term relationship?" – How to Keep a Relationship Fresh, wikiHow.
The yellowing couples massage manual I picked up
at a garage sale says you should
be able to bring me
to orgasm with your big toe
while we sit across from each other at a table.
I try to imagine your waxen toe working
its way out of its tired salty boot
while we wait for crispy ginger beef, clacking
our chopsticks like beaks
or battered plastic chopsticks: all the soft
creases between thumb & forefinger, all the grateful
but not entirely needy mouths
they have been raised to.
I try to imagine your callused toe
lifting from its dusty sandal some Saturday
morning as we look for
& find pleasure
at the bottom of diner mugs.
It has all somehow been many years
of the same Saturday, our daughter coloring at your elbow,
hoping her pancakes will be poured out
with ears, that the cook at the grill has looked out
& seen her bowed head.
I try to imagine your hairy feet planted
on the lino at your parents' as I pass the roast
& the potatoes, all of it seasoned
by your resemblance
to your uncle, our daughter's resemblance
to your mother. The long exhale of these years?
Peppery kisses on my forehead as you go by
but also: small piles
of toenail clippings
forgotten on the bedside table.
December 27, 2011
Words Aloud vids!
So Words Aloud, the nifty little poetry and spoken word festival in Durham, ON, takes/posts videos from the performances.
In addition to the introduction by comedian/MC Steve Morel, there are three videos of me performing poems from Hump and How to Prepare for Flooding.
And it should go without saying, but it was really REALLY really the most fun I've ever had on stage.
And I can't wait to get up on a stage again somewhere else, though I suspect Words Aloud has ruined me forever...
So lemme know what you think, hmm?
In addition to the introduction by comedian/MC Steve Morel, there are three videos of me performing poems from Hump and How to Prepare for Flooding.
And it should go without saying, but it was really REALLY really the most fun I've ever had on stage.
And I can't wait to get up on a stage again somewhere else, though I suspect Words Aloud has ruined me forever...
So lemme know what you think, hmm?
