I have a picture of my father, dead now these past ten years.  It is summer in this picture; the colour of the sky is changing from light to Alice blue with a few milk-coloured clouds settling near the horizon.  My father is standing on top of a small pile of large, heavy planks of wood, painted black and crisscross-stacked, resting upon a base ( Read more... )

Click to view

'The Backwater Gospel,' a Bachelor film project 2011 from The Animation Workshop.  "As long as anyone can remember, the coming of The Undertaker has meant the coming of death. Until one day the grim promise fails and tension builds as the God-fearing townsfolk of Backwater wait for someone to die."

I'm on the Sunhine Coast for the weekend for my sister's 39th birthday.  I bought her a 'Get Well Soon' card, wishing her a speedy recovery; older brothers are supposed to tease their younger siblings, right ( Read more... )

Piercing probing is disturbing.
Prove to me I'm not worth knowing.
     Skinny Puppy, 'Sleeping Beast'

There are few things in this world that I believe that I can do well.  I'm not especially smart - just an aptitude for colourful smoke and well-polished mirrors - and Lord knows I'm nothing that resembles athletic, unless the definition of the word ( Read more... )

I am not ready for death.

I was not been ready for death since I was a child, lying in his bed one night, trying to grasp the sensation of death, of the cessation of life, a profound sense of nothing, like staring into a vast pit with no ending.  The feeling remains, even after all this time.

I was not ready for death when my friend in high school ( Read more... )

I went to the hospital after work today.  Earlier in the day while at work I was lilting to the right; it didn't last long, this feeling that the floor was perpetually lopsided, but enough people seemed concerned that it might be a symptom of something more alarming that I eventually relented and took myself to Burnaby General Hospital to get ( Read more... )

The eastbound SkyTrain Millenium line was temporarily out of service this afternoon, so I walked from Gilmore to Brentwood, which took me about 20-25 minutes.  It's not a huge distance, but I'm fat - so fat, in fact, that I was horribly winded and both arms felt kinda tingly.  If I'm winded from the simple effort of walking, then I've got some ( Read more... )

After too long an absence, I have finally started writing music again.  It will be something on a larger scale of things, performance-wise, and I may indeed be tempting fate simply by doing it, asking for trouble that I do not need, but sometimes these things need to be done.

I've begun writing a Requiem.  For those of you who might not know what ( Read more... )

Click to view

Soul Food by Mighty Mike McGee, the host of last night's poetry slam.  By popular demand, he ended last night's event with the above treat.

Sometimes life feels like an exercise in cryptography, coded moments that dare to be deciphered.

A man, five decades of life hidden under his navy blue jacket, singing Italian songs to lovely ladies, indifferent concrete and a welcoming blue sky.  Years ago, one of my teachers in University told me:

"The Germans know everything there is to know about ( Read more... )