Official book launch - It's away!

Kreddible Trout and Celia Ste Croix are at last ready to officially launch their book! Saudade is an exploration, through poetry and photography, of the layered and nuanced feelings of love and longing.

A collaboration across provinces, time zones and conflicting schedules can be quite a challenge and this launch is happening later than they had wished. Despite the challenges they plugged on, undeterred, as art and creativity have always been more important to these two than calendars and alarm clocks.

It’s not the first time they have worked together, creatively. In the almost 20 years the two have been friends they have collaborated in the sphere of theatre, poetry and even came close to opening an arts centre together. They are some of each other’s biggest fans, although they would probably argue over who was more talented, always deferring to the other as the more skilled artist.

Please join them in celebrating three firsts: Celia’s first book of poetry, KT’s first book of photography and their first printed collaboration.

There are three formats of the book for people to choose from, each with its own unique appeal. Please visit the book’s page http://blur.by/1y1ueqq on Blurb to virtually leaf through a selection of pages and purchase the format that pleases you most.

At this time, Celia has copies available through her blog site here which can be signed by the poet. For now, if you want a signed copy by Kreddible Trout you will have to catch him in person in Toronto, between bike commutes, walking his wee dog and auditions.

Saudade: a Portuguese word describing deep longing for a person or thing gone or unattainable

 

There is a place in me,
a pocket big enough for a mouse,
a soft and safe place
that time and law do not touch.
I will meet you there.
We will have to leave a lot behind
to shrink down enough to fit.
We will leave behind
      everything sharp
      everything broken
      everything stolen
We will only carry with us
      the softness of seed fluff
      the roundness of ripe fruit
      the smoothness of river stones.
And in that pocket we will be so naked
not even our skin will separate us.
We will sleep and dream peacefully
Until the world and we ourselves are calm.

Another excerpt from the book Saudade, by Celia Ste Croix and Kreddible Trout
All rights to the above poem and image reserved.

A teaser from Saudade

Love is like honey
It is made to nourish
It cannot be owned or bartered
It just is
And it exists to bring fullness to life

It is rich
And thick
And clings to everything it touches

It is meant to stay
It is meant to become part of everything it comes in contact with

Love is the glue
The food
And the decadent treat
That this life offers

If there is a heaven
It smells, tastes, and feels
Like honey

.

The first poem and image in the book Saudade, a collection of poetry and photos by Celia Ste Croix and Kreddible Trout, available very, very soon.
All rights to the above image and poem reserved.

The book is almost here!

I meant to be keeping regular updates on this project but it just didn't happen. I could go into details but that would just be a bunch of excuses so let's just start here at this exciting juncture.
This is the cover of the upcoming book of poetry and photographs called "Saudade." It is a collaboration between me and my long time friend Kreddible Trout AKA William Foley. He is a very talented photographer, as well as an actor, writer and general artist of heart and soul. KT graciously accepted to come in on this project despite the challenges of living in different cities, having busy lives and my stubborn request that he masterfully match his evocative images to my already written poems.
The title is a Portuguese word which has no direct translation in English. It describes a deep longing for someone or something which is either gone or unattainable. The word fits with the general theme of the book which explores feelings of love and longing.
KT and I are waiting on the proof copy to arrive to ensure we have no glaring edits to revise but once that is approved the book will be available for sale. I will update here as things progress. Barring any major roadblocks, I expect the book to be available for purchase by late March. In a future post I will talk more about the ways it can be acquired as well as note any developments such as a facebook page for the book etc.
When looking through the finished product I find the collection has a kind of dream-like feel to it, like slipping in and out of sleep in the hours before dawn, never sure if the thoughts and images are real or imagined.
It is the first published collection for both KT and me. As with all new adventures, I am both nervous and excited.
To see more of KT's inspiring images, check out his website http://www.kreddibletrout.com/
You can also like him on facebook.

Finally begun is almost won.

Sometimes it takes a person a long time to see what's right in front of them. Sometimes an epiphany is really quite obvious once brought into focus.
Many of my long-time friends will breath the word "finally" upon reading my announcement. I am publishing a book of poetry.
The, as yet untitled, long-time-coming, rather-modest-first-step-into-print, book will explore the theme of the sensual pull of love and longing.
My deadline is optimistically set for September and I boldly note that in part to keep myself on task. I will chronicle my progress here and link this through social media for all those interested in keeping track of the gestation of this curious egg.
For those who do not know me personally, I have been writing poetry and prose since as far back as I can remember. The earliest set of poems I can recall I wrote by hand in a cloth bound book with accompanying images, also drawn by me, at the age of nine. Though my spelling has always been appalling my obsession with words has never diminished.
A relatively recent foray into journalism taught me two things; I love the stories of people's lives and I hate to write them in journalistic format. It also showed me that I did indeed have the soul of a poet and the farther I wandered from it while

looking for what I thought was expected of me the more it pulled me back to verse and stanza.
So, at the well seasoned age of 41, I won't pretend any more. No excuses or apologies. I will write, as I always have done. The only difference now is I will make the effort to share it.

I really didn't think it through; our Wil Wheaton family photo

I'm not a family portrait kind of person. Going to a photo studio, choosing a background, dressing up and sending the pic off to friends and family at holiday time, it's all too conventional for me. I'm more of a 'it's not authentic unless its spontaneous' kind of person. But these two philosophies collided this summer and I had to ponder my perspective. It took way too long for me to write it down, but here it is.

I should start by saying that it has been a really slow realisation that I am in fact a nerd and not just 'nerd adjacent.' In this case 'nerd' is being defined as a person who enjoys all things related to sci-fi, fantasy and steam punk genres of fiction. The first real epiphany was realising that the second thing I ever knit was a seven foot long Dr Who scarf. 'Nuf said, I think.

So Hubby and I went to our very first comicon this summer. We enjoyed the endless parade of costumes, when anyone dressed up can be the subject of paparazzi-style photo blitzes. Our six year old daughter was delighted by absolutely everything, including meeting a lady in a mermaid costume and having the chance to dress up as a super hero princess. Probably the highlight for Hubby and me was the talk by Wil Wheaton.

We are fond of Wil Wheaton. We are fans, I suppose, but not OMG FAN!!!!!s. We like his attitude and the outlook he espouses; be yourself, enjoy your geekitude, be happy and share that happiness. We also like that he is crazy enthusiastic about board games.

We felt that we wouldn't really have had the full comicon experience if we didn't get a photo with a famous person. So who would we choose but the guy we liked hearing the talk from, who seemed so down to earth and likable, who looked at the world much the way we did? Wil Wheaton. We signed up, paid our money and got in line.

As we were about to stand in front of the back drop next to Wil Wheaton, the organiser person in charge of the line, reminded the crowd in a stern voice not to touch Wil Wheaton, not to talk to Wil Wheaton, not to linger after the photo was taken, and to keep the line moving. Suddenly it felt daunting. Like Black Ops Swat guys might drop from the ceiling to whisk the celebrity to safety if I said "really enjoyed your talk."

Hubby and I gave him space as we stood on either side of Wil Wheaton and posed for the photo. Rebelliously, I asked him how he had been liking Montreal. He said he had not had enough time to enjoy the city this time, and smiled genially. Then it was over. We walked away and someone else stood in our place as Wil Wheaton showed a relaxed smile to the camera. I was left wondering if his face hurt.

An hour later we collected our picture. It was something I expected to put away in a safe place as an enjoyable reminder of our fun foray into nerdiness. But I was delighted and confused to see that we had in our hands a really lovely family portrait. Our daughter looks sweet. Hubby looks relaxed and happy. I don't look half bad either. In short, it is a very genuine representation of who we are, and we don't have a lot of pictures like that.

And there is Wil Wheaton standing in the middle of us like a superimposed, stalker fan, cut and paste insertion. Because how is it possible that Wil Wheaton would be in our family potrait? I wanted to hang this lovely picture of my family on the wall. But I didn't want everyone who saw it to think that I was doing that simply because it was us with OMG WIL WHEATON!! I was torn.

Hubby put it in a frame, because he doesn't share my hang ups and is perfectly serene about having Wil Wheaton in our family photo. He even hung it on the wall, in an out of the way place that wouldn't agitate my internal turmoil over people thinking I am a super geek.

So I let the picture stay there for six months. And it has finally dawned on me that I should be embracing my nerdocity. I should be proud that I have knit a Dalek, know the names of all the recurring characters on Star Trek, Next Generation, and can sing the Jayne song. My daughter joyfully pretends to eat peoples' brains and Hubby will tell you the species name of any life form that appears in the Star Wars movies. I am in good company. So having Wil Wheaton in the middle of the best (and only) family portrait we may ever have seems kind of fitting. He is kind of a champion of living out and proud, as a nerd.

I am ready to put the picture in a place of prominence.

P.S. Wil Wheaton, thanks for facilitating a really nice family photo. If you ever find yourself in Montreal, feel free to come over for supper and play a board game.

Broadcast - worthy

Meet Bru. She is our new dog!

The world is flat and I have fallen off it's edge

I have not written here since June, it seems. I have thought of it, the way that one thinks about cleaning the closet or calling a relative that one is not close with. The thought passes. The idea that all this blogging, facebooking, twittering, etc is narcissistic has been coming back to mind. I still maintain that if you use it as a communications tool like all other mediums (like television and radio) it can be useful. I know people who use this medium to share organised, interesting, purposeful content. And if they were to suddenly be on TV or radio they would still be just as engaging. But would I broadcast on channel twelve that my kid said something cute today? Would I go on the radio to rant about cheese or parking meters? Probably not. I am not anyone of note and have no specific interest to focus on therefore what I say holds little relevance for the greater public and it comes down to that - the greater public. This is a public forum and I am broadcasting. But I do not deem what I am broadcasting to be relevant. So I have not posted.
So until I find something relevant to broadcast this channel will go dark.

Before You Grow Up

So I was in the bookstore recently and I picked up this book for a friend of mine.It is called 365 Things to Do Before You Grow Up. He is a dear, fine fellow who is probably at his best when he is reveling in the silly, nonsensical or the simple. By simple I mean uncomplicated. So I bought this book for him to help him remember not to take life too seriously and to make a point of  enjoying life's indefinable loveliness.
Well, I got the book home and realised I wanted to do the list. The 365 things, I wanted to do them all. And I wanted others to join me and have fun with the project too. I have mentioned it to a few people, including my dear, fine freind, and got some positive responses.
I decided it would be nice to start it on my birthday which is this weekend. Wisely MyDear suggested I do one item a week rather that one a day so as not to drive myself mad. That's why I keep him around. He is wise like that.
The first item on the list is celebrate another culture's holiday. Well I hunted around and found that my birthday falls on the Algonquin Strawberry Moon. It is the full moon marking the relatively short wild strawberry season. It is/was believed by the Algonquins that harvesting under the full moon was best to ensure a good crop for the following year.
So I have decided to go strawberry picking on my birthday. I do not know any songs or dances or traditional food (apart from strawberries perhaps) that would traditionally celebrate the Full Strawberry Moon and I dont think I can pick berries in the middle of the night but I can go out and gather strawberries, bring them home and mark the day. So I will.
If you, fine reader, would like to join in my 365 weeks of fun please visit the Facebook Group I have made for the purpose. Just click on the word participate

Gaiman's House

This place is so enormous I have not seen it's edges
I don't believe I have visited the same room twice
Some rooms are filled with light
But most have shadows
     comforting shadows
          chilling shadows
         and wet shadows that cling
Some rooms are damp Grimm forests
Some are deserts with demons and wolves
Some are so cramped I can fit only my fingers over the doorsill
Some rooms are ordinary sitting rooms and kitchens that keep a gentle space
      waiting for my lover, my children, my animals and myself
Some rooms are so silent my breath shatters them and they are gone forever
This room is quiet but not so fragile
This room has great wide windows that look out onto the garden
This room holds my pen and paper

New Original Knitting Pattern

Friar Tuck found himself with idle hands while thinking up new recipes for venison or hare and turning a blind eye to the flagrant breaking of the commandment "thou shalt not steal." So he knit up one of these for each of the green clad gents. Robin Hood and his Merry Men had to endure more than a few damp nights in Sherwood Forest and verily were grateful for the garment.

This is what can happen when MyDear says "wouldn't it be cool if..."

A medieval style men’s hooded garment inspired by Robin Hood. It uses seed stitch, shoulder shaping and short rows.

A great big thank you to Molly Anne Rothchilde @ Ariadne Knits who helped make the idea a reality.

If you want to see other pictures and/or buy the pattern to knit for yourself or a fella you like click here.

The latest from Monkey

My name is Woodjerd. 
I am a man and I fish.
I catch candy fish in the jungle.
Would you like one?

Basil, gentle and constant.

I dreamt of her the night after she died and again the night after that.

The day we took her body to the country we saw a coyote on the way there, running in the field beside the road. The fellow looked at us as we drove by. On the way back we saw a raven. We had never seen a coyote or a raven in this place before that day.

John put his ring and a lock of Morgan’s hair in Basil’s mouth before we buried her - so she could find us, he said. She was enshrouded in a blue gingham sheet and settled in the earth under three stones on the hill overlooking the forests and the fields.

That night I dreamt of her, then again the next night. They were nice quiet dreams, no heavy portend or symbolism, just her there and me happy that she was walking and standing in the sun. The second night I told her I knew that in the real world she was dead but that in the dream it was good to see her again.

I have been sitting here mending the sheet where her claws cut a multitude of tiny holes as she struggled to get a purchase in the last weeks. Mending the sheet she died on. I keep wondering if it is morbid to keep it, if I should throw it away, if I should bother mending the many tiny holes. But I have not stopped. 

No one can say she was just a dog. No one can say that any living being could take her place and be what she was.

1997-2010

I love you Baz.

Sprocket

There isn't anything better than a boy and his dog. From the first to the last you were every inch Stephen's Puppy Rocket. At first you were so small you fit in my purse for an outing to the tamtams. And you grew and grew. As a wily teen you ate through the mattress twice, licked the table while staring us down and ran away more times then I care to count. You were so fast and graceful we thought you must be part Greyhound. We marveled even as we realised you weren't going to stop running down that alley and we were going to have to go get you, yet again. You grew and grew until you had a pointy nose and great big eyes and ears at a permanent readiness for take off. I wouldn't say you were beautiful but Stephen would. To Stephen there was no better friend. You liked beer, you rascal, just like him. You grew and grew and went across the country with Stephen and his love. You were unpleasantly surprised by the rain but you still spent your days under the desk at Stephens feet or groaning and sighing dramatically on the couch. You grew and grew but this time growing older not bigger, and you complained more and needed special food and shorter walks. Stephen knew that you would not stay forever to be by his side, to be his best friend. He knew and we knew but we are still very sad, Sprago, that you had to go - very sad, indeed, that such a marvelous and singular fellow, who was so perfect for Stephen, and such an undeniable and irrepressible personality would today have to go. We are glad to have known you, Sprocket. You are missed.

 

Better late than never.

Here is the latest journalistic endeavor by me. That's right, it's all about me and what I do. Isn't that what a blog is?

Another gem

"Mommy?"
"Yes, dear."
"Uuuuummmm ... run into town and find a spoon or gears or fish to fix my camera.
"..."

"And hurry up or the wild things will get you."

More comics

This time from a loverly little establishment called Wondermark

Click on image to enlarge

What is Love?

• Love is when a kid gives you her favorite toy to make your cold go away.

• Love is when someone e-mails you to tell you all about the wonderful adventures she is having because she wants you to share the experience with her, even vicariously.

• Love is when your friend gets it when something seemingly weird, gross or silly is important to you and gets on board because it matters to you.

• Love is when your parent doesn't lecture you on a subject that is making you feel unsteady, just listens and reassures you that you do, in fact, have the answer and can do what you need to do.

• Love is when your significant other brings something special home for you just because they knew you would like it, proving that you are on their mind even when you are not around.

• Love is when a friend sends you an mp3 of an old, silly answering machine message you left on his machine and that he has overlaid nice music on to, making it sound all legit and professional, just so you will see how great he thinks you are.

When is it love for you?

If you like the mossy heart image check out it's creator, Laylock, the photographer and the knitter. She seems to have a wonderful sense of love too.

P.S. Tomorrow is Pi Day. I recommend you bake a pie, for yourself and/or for someone else whom you love.

I love spiders

What animal(s) do you love?