Fall

I am thankful for the beauty this season offers, the light, the smells, the rich colours in the sky and on earth.
I still can't come back to work, though. I'm sorry. Perhaps tomorrow.

Farewell to The Captain

This is how I want to remember my father - in all his glory. A strong, warm and beautiful, dependable man, passionate about everything.
We said our goodbye on the waters of the harbour, where he spent most of his life, we dropped flowers and tears, we sang sea songs and watched them float away into the sunset.
His friends were there, they raised a few glasses as they did when he was still around, and I'm pretty sure they were thinking of their own end.
It was not a sad affair. Sadness will come as his absence will present itself in our lives, in time.

In Memory of My Father

11.7.1928-13.10.2010
He loved the sea, and passed this passion down to me by taking me with him on many of his journeys . I spent the most memorable moments of my childhood on the seas by his side as he worked, and I knew how lucky I was.

The End

by Mark Strand

Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,
Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like
When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,
Or what he shall hope for once it is clear that he’ll never go back.

When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat,
When the sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down
No longer appear, not every man knows what he’ll discover instead.
When the weight of the past leans against nothing, and the sky

Is no more than remembered light, and the stories of cirrus
And cumulus come to a close, and all the birds are suspended in flight,
Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing
When the ship he is on slips into darkness, there at the end.

Nuit Blanche

Last night I did something crazy: I danced at the Distillery, participating in a communal project called The River Peace, one of the hundreds of art installations of Nuit Blanche. Outside Soma, in the cold night air, moving non stop for 2 hours in a meditative dance, alone in my little pool of light but surrounded by musicians (some better than others) and thousands of spectators passing by.
It was challenging, to say the least. But all and all an interesting experience, uplifting, and despite today's sore muscles, I have no regrets.
I happened to find this: a picture on Flicker that someone took of it.
After my shift was done, I set out to explore a bit of the city's excitements.
At the Royal Conservatory I saw, after waiting in line to get in for about 15 minutes, these cascading vibrating tentacles, and their delicate shadows:


Then we visited our friend Alex explaining his Conspiracy/Cuckoo mobile installed at the Coach house at Spadina House:


On Wed. night last week, on my way to a rehearsal, the sky over the city were ablaze:


I like Toronto.