Hands...

So I've been on my own for the weekend... My partner/husband was called out to a business meeting in Toronto on Thursday and isn't back until tomorrow afternoon. Each time he's gone I imagine with great delight the many magical tasks that I am going to accomplish in his absense. I falsely believe that with more time to myself and less time devoted a relationship that I'll be able to put my hands together and accomplish great things if not miracles... Each time he's gone I think I'm going to start that book I've been talking about for oh... 7 years or maybe I'll sketch for the whole weekend and come up with some brilliant idea for my next painting. I've even considered pulling out my flute or some old sheet music and getting back into things. Hell... I've even considered cleaning the house.

When it comes right down to it... I get very little if any thing accomplished and then I wallow in my misery and self-pity about how much of life I am wasting and how I'm always complaining about how busy we are in this world with all of our toys and blackberry's and stuff that are supposed to "free us up" and what it all boils down to is that I hunger for the chance, the time, the freedom to do nothing at all.

I acknowledge and respect and even yearn to be like those who manage to go river rafting on the weekends or dragon boat racing... I've got tremendously talented friends who take road trips and incredible photographs... I've got other friends who go out regularly and one that travels to a different city almost weekly. Other poeple I know have learned a language in what seems like days, or made roman shades from toothfloss and garage sale finds... People find the time and energy to re-arrange their homes, volunteer at the animal shelter, get dressed up and get stupid at pub while watching some stupid show called Big Brother 8... and I seem to accomplish almost nothing when left to my own devices.

I used to be involved in everything. I needed a personal secretary and 2 day times (pre blackberry days) and a driver just to manage. I had so much energy and felt so alive and involved in things... somewhere along the way it all started to slow down and change. I think it may have been my junior or senior year of university - which co-incidentally was when I started to take naps... I'd lay down in the library or Fine Arts faculty building and sleep for hours.

So I thought about my hands today and what they could have accomplished in the last 3 or 4 days and what they really did... I could say that the drawing here is something that I did this weekend... but that would be a lie... it's a sketch of hands probably done when I was thinking about this exact thing some two years ago... Hmmm... at least I can find the time and gumption to type... Later!

My new ink

Well I said I was going to do it and I've done it. While in Vancouver celebrating the love of an old roomate and his wonderful partner and the occasion of their marriage I got my long planned for, thought about, sketched and re-sketched, pondered and dreamed about tattoo. It took about an hour and a half and despite being on my skinny back and right on the spin wasn't too bad at all. I got it done at Lotus Land in Kitsilano, Vancouver, BC.

I had a few other artists sketch things out for me but their visions never really matched the ones that I had sort of sketched out myself. I put a few of my rough sketches in an early entry here but when I got to Vancouver and talked to the artist and he brought the sketch back to me to take a look at it was finally right. What I wanted for myself, with a bit of flare from a good tattoo artist.

I think the colours are alive... it kind of feels like a window to my soul. The tree and the roots connected to a heart and all things sacred and loved. The delicate lotus flower that despite everything is remarkably strong. I love how the lotus on the bottom holds the earth. The fire and water up the side with the clouds and air at the top bring together the four elements. The bird seems happy... just does to me. The fence and the grain are awesome... bringing together two important aspects and people in my life.

I got it done last week and its healed up nicely... just in time... today is the 24th anniversary of my Mum's death. Where have all the years gone. Sometimes I still feel like the lost little boy who lost his Mother at 9 years of age. Now I have her on my back along with all the people and things that have helped to shape who and what I am.

My new ink

Gay Vancouver

Vancouver is a city well known for its beauty and lush green spaces, gorgeous and cosmopolitan sky line as well as culture. It is quickly becoming known, especially to gay Americans, as ˆtheˆdestination to get married. Coming from a country where gay and lesbian people are in the spot light on broadway, in the fashion run ways and on tv shows at dinner but denied the basic right to get married and have a celebration, more and more gay and lesbian Americans are flocking to Canada and especially Vancouver, BC to tie the knot.

Having lived in the US for many years and studied in the US at private American schools I feel somewhat like an honourary American - even if I still spell honour with an "OUR". US customs and immigration doesn't feel that way. They took my tuition money, handed me my degree and kicked my what is obviously "communist ass" out and back to Canada. No hard feelings. How could I have hard feelings when so many US citizens come to Canada to get married, avoid the war, run from the draft and racial intolerance... My brothers and sisters - you're all welcome here!

I think the thing that surprised me most was that I had forgotten or become complacent with how stinking polite Canadians generally are. The group of friends and famiy that cam up for an old roomates wedding in Stanley Park kept commenting on how friendly everyone was and I guess there is some truth to that. As I sat on the bus one day I noticed that all the passengers but one who got off before I did said a kind "thank you" to the driver from the back of the bus before disembarking. Even restaurant staff were polite. I had to giggle when the Americans seated around the dinner table at "Earls" commented that you knew you were in a good restaurant when other staff came to help when they didn't have tables. You have to realize that "Earls" is much like TGI Fridays to us.

After eating like kings and queens at Stanley Park and wandering about Davies street and taking in all of Kitsilano and Granville Island and acquabus through the harbour and saying good-bye to my American guests I realized just how fortunate I am to be a Canadian. I guess I am a lucky little shit after all.