To my boy, on his birthday

Sometimes numbers are just numbers, and sometime they baffle us with their improbability. When our babies grow into a full blown adulthood, one is quite baffled, no matter how one looks at the person who emerged.
I read this piece a while ago, from Dear Sugar to her earlier self. I gave it to my grown baby to read, in hopes it helps getting over the many humps still waiting for him along his future life.

Francesca Woodman

One more dead photographer being rediscovered by the media. She took her own life at a tender age of 22, leaving her photographic legacy to her parents to decipher and introduce to the world posthumously.
You can see more of her compelling work here.

Simon's Cat Double Holiday Cheer

Beware of your cats during the holiday season, everyone!

Winter Moon

Walking home last evening I saw the most incredible moon yet - hovering over the buildings bigger, brighter, luminous like no street light can ever be.
It said - come, come, come...

Hedgehogs

I finished reading "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" last week.
I kind of liked parts of it, the premise is a good one, and the literariness of it appealed to me, but I thought the ending is a complete cop out. I can't discuss it because it would be a spoiler if you haven't read it.
As a child, one of my favourite books was about a kid who is home sick and has only a hungry hedgehog as a companion. The illustrations were wonderful, and at the time, in my girlhood, hedgehogs would sometimes appear in our neighbourhood, not pets but the real things, wild ones, out on a tour of their habitat. We loved their visits but there were always cats and silly kids to disturb them and eventually they disappeared altogether.

Anyway, I looked up hedgehog on youtube, and lo and behold, there is a world out there full of hedgehog pets I'd never have guessed.

Finds

A great dancer from the 80's, Jorge Donn, and 20 years later, doing the same dance, but different, Silvie Guillem, the greatest dancer alive: This one I watched tonight on TFO, an incredible a Capella choir transforming orchestral music into vocal in the most wonderful way:

The Young Ones

It was my young one's birthday yesterday. I admit that I am past my prime in organizing parties, having done so for many years exhausted all my desires in that area of life. So it is up to them if they want to have a party. This young man baked a wonderful cake with a good friend, called his buddies to watch an old Hitchcock film, and had a great informal party where he made pizza and tea with them in our kitchen, ate and made a great mess, all under his own initiative.
All I had to do was roll some pizza dough and clean, which I was happy to do while listening to them laugh and be silly.
It's encouraging to see that our young ones can appreciate the simple things in life.

How To Defend Your Territory

Watch and lean. This will be my daily meditation from now on (the images minus the commentary).

Enduring challenges

Manliness consists not in bluff, bravado, or lordliness. It consists in daring to do the right and facing consequences, whether it is in matters social, political, or other. It consists in deeds, not in words. –Mahatma Gandhi

I only have one quibble about this quote - it is the stuff of womanliness as well. Either that or I have to be a man at least once a day in this life. I love being a woman, but there are certainly days I wish I were a man.

December - End of a Year

Yesterday we had first snow.
It blasted for a little bit, lingered a while and then melted and vanished as if it never happened. It as a sign of things to come, blasting winds and cold, gray days, months of cocooning with a blanket and a hearty soup at hand.
Men came into the shop to get a respite from the cold, and to buy warm clothes. Lets hope it's a sign for a good season.
I got yesterday a beautiful sweater and it adorns my mannequin now. Who will be the smart and elegant man to buy it? time will tell.
Soon it will look like this:

Things People See

This is what my mother sees from her window every day. Only the sky changes:

And this is what my sisters see when they go to watch the sunset on the beach:

Thank the universe for digital transmission of images.

The Universal Soldier

It's not that I don't support the troops, it's just that I know that it's sad and useless to send those young Canadian men to die in a country that doesn't give a shit.
Let them all come home.

Quote

If you can’t laugh at yourself, make fun of other people.

Anon.

Good Old Halloween

Church Street is the best place for a little bit of harmless fun on Halloween night.
Hiding behind hideous masks we all walked around laughing and snapping pics.
Good warm wine and cake with the neighbours and handing out treats finished the evening, but the best is all that work putting together a good costume.

Quote - Happiness Is

Last week was my birthday.
It was a rainy day. I called my mother, so far away, and asked what she remembered of the day I was born. She didn't have many details. We talked for a long time. Then we were interrupted by a customer and hung up.
Ravel was playing in the shop, and my desk was covered with some new books I'm working at. The man had a large Sax case at hand, and he tried on several items while looking around the shop. He asked if I was a student of literature, or music. I am neither, not anymore. Upon leaving the man shook my hand and said this:

They say that happiness is spending a minute in the company of a beautiful person.

One Year and Counting

We've had a new mayor for one year today.
We talk about the gravy train issue and how well it's being handled at city hall. It's not going very well so far.
A friend of mine made a brilliant analogy to the way Rob Ford is trying to do things in Toronto, and here it is for your pleasure:
The idea of losing some bureaucratic fat is a fine one, but if we compare it to losing body fat, what the Fords are doing is comparable to trying to lose weight by cutting off your leg. You have lost a quarter of your body weight, but you can't walk anymore.
Our friend also said he loves Rob Ford, because he makes him look thin...
3 more years of Ford domination. Who will come next?

How Did I Get It? Only Tom Lehrer would Know

That miserable cold, I mean...

Last Year, Today

Was my father's last day of life. His life lasted 82 years, there was no 83. As I accept this fact, I don't feel sadness.
His life was not short, it was not easy, it was a life full of adventure and passion. I was lucky, as were my numerous siblings. He was not an indulgent father, we were not spoiled, but we were loved and cared for, always, and we did get our share of adventure along the way, on the ships he took to many different countries. There is no cruise ship that can be as good as the real thing - cargo ships. Being the captain's daughter has its advantages. The days I spent on those decks were the happiest I've known. I miss them.
This year has gone by faster than most, and maybe that is a good thing.

Code of Conduct at RM

Here's a list of a few things I thought of while swimming today, which I'm going to post on the shop's window so no one could say they didn't know.
There are things I'd love to discuss, or hear about from my customers and some I really don't. I'd like people to remember they are coming into my sanctuary, and they should treat it, and me, with respect.
For example:
Don't expose your homophobia, your antisemitism, your anti-feminist biases. Don't tell me why you hate your ex, or all women in general. Don't tell me why you hate Toronto. I love Toronto, I don't want to have to defend it.
Don't tell me how you hate the poor, or the rich, the leftists, starving artist, and social misfits, or things that are made in China (everything is made in China these days). Don't tell me about your latest drug deal or the heist you are planing.
Do not tell me you hate second hand shopping under any circumstances - that would make it very difficult for me to continue to serve you!

You may tell me stories which include beauty, adventure, travel, compassion and/or illicit sex. I love hearing about the human condition, about love, literature and music, movies and people you admire (unless Hitler or Bin Laden and their ilk are among them - I don't want to know).
Politics are not completely out of bounds, but please remember that there are limits to my understanding. Conspiracy theories about 9/11 are not my cup of tea (possibly because they are laced with antisemitism? I am not sure). I do love talking badly about our mayor - who doesn't?
I'd like to say something about bartering techniques, but I think that would require a book, so I'll limit it to this - be fair and respectful. My prices are, and you should be too.

Hopefully this makes a good indication as to how to be a well behaved RM shopper. Sorry it took me so long to recognize the need to compose a list.

New Quote

It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it. –Oscar Wilde

He is so quotable, that man. I can't help it...

Fast and Feast

This is a mix of a holiday weekend, for those of us who celebrate multiple cultures. It's a good thing. Lots of opportunities to see friends and family, eat together and congregate.
The weather is so very good to us this year. We can't believe out luck.
Red leave, pumpkin pies and very good apples. Life is a beautiful thing.

And while we're here about beautiful things: There lived in my shop for a while an Armani hand made raw linen and silk jacket. Yesterday it left on the back of a very appreciative and handsome man, to accompany him on a trip to NYC. It takes off for a different life now, and everyone is happy.

What To Say

When, after you spend about an hour helping a customer choose between the many great items he tries on, one after another,
and after he begs you to give him a discount for all the reasons in the world: I'll send you all my friends, I'll be a good customer, I get paid in 2 weeks, I only have this much $$$ - nothing I haven't heard before,
after he changes his mind 3 times about what he is actually going to buy, and you have to renegotiate the prices of everything each time,
after you give the desired discount, which is basically a gift to someone you don't know,
after he takes out of his pocket a wad of cash the likes of which you have never seen before and you know all this BS about not having enough money was just a sob story, a lie,
after the person asks you where you are from and when he realizes you are Jewish he looks at you differently all of a sudden, up and down, sizing you up all over again and then says - Jews are so greedy, they are all so rich.

I foolishly did not throw his money back to him and did not point at the door. I tried to defend my people, but the truth is it feels pointless.

Another Spoon of Sugar

I do apologize (Not)but this Sugar babe is all I can read these days and she is one smart, kind, articulate lady. Here is one pearl of wisdom:

It’s the good ones who smart, and the dumb ones who play it safe.
Dear Sugar, The Rumpus, September 24, 2009.

The Rumpus, and Dear Sugar

While I was looking for the quote I posted earlier, I stumbled upon a wonder of wonders called Dear sugar.
It is an advice column in an online magazine called The Rumpus. I've spent an entire day reading her words and marveling at the scope of this woman's love for humanity, and how well she is able to express that love in words.
Here is one heartbreaking correspondence she had with a grieving father.
Read it with a box of tissues at hand.

New Quote for the Cold Days Ahead

There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you. –Maya Angelou

Coats, Scarves and Gloves at Nuit Blanche

It was Nuit Blanche last night, and I braved the chill and dressed myself up and went to town. Truth is, all I had to do was step out, as everything is within walking distance around me. Still, bloody cold night after the warmest September I can recall in this country.
It's amazing to see Toronto come to life, it felt like London on a regular night. Young and old filled the streets, savouring artistic endeavors, having a good time.
From my selection, rather small, admittedly - The Heart Machine was the best. I must have been Fire Worshiper in previous life.

What's in a face?

Yup, that's me. A quick rendering by a friend last summer during a lunch at the charming Roycroft inn at East Aurora.
I've been tidying all day, and found it hiding in a purse. Now it found a good home.

Sting

I got stung by a wasp a few days ago.
It itches, it hurts, it swells, and it bugs me.
She crawled between my toes inside my sandal and committed suicide. It was only partially successful and I helped, once I got her out of there, and relieved her of her miserable existence. I whacked her with that sandal, I was angry. Its only natural. But her sting lingers on...
Anyone knows how to find relief? please let me know.

Fall Means Tweed

It's that time of the year when a chill in the air creeps up to remind us it's time to start dressing up like grown ups again. It is the time to look at all your jackets and realize they need some updating. That's what I'm here for: just look at this wonderful tweed thing, with the swanky Paul Smith tie (sorry, sold last week, but plenty others in stock). Size 40R. Hugs the torso like a good woman.
There are some others, but you'll have to come by and see them.
The bag is Fred Perry, a perfect size, styli gym bag.

Curious Pursuits

Some people get to play with their imagination all their lives and collaborate with other professional enthusiasts. I sometimes envy them. Here is a collaboration of the poet Anne Carson, Merce Cunningham dancers, Harvard University, and some other artists who bring it all together into one curious end.
I found it here.

Atticus

I've spent the last 2 nights in the company of Gregory Peck. We watched, yet again, "To Kill a Mockingbird", and then all the bonus features, lots of them - satisfying and lengthy.
In his last years he toured the world with a one man show about himself and people flocked to see him. He told stories from his life and carrier and people had a chance to ask any questions they wished. He promised only to give the answers he wished to give.
He was gracious, eloquent and funny, and charming. His family featured highly in his life and I was reminded of my own father as I watched him speak lovingly about them. My father also had a full head of white hair, but neglected to color his bushy eyebrows black...
One question from the audience stuck in my mind - "What do you want to be remembered for?"
It played in my mind the rest of the night. I asked it myself, and realized I don't have an answer, not yet.

The Perils of Technology

I don't know how, but someone got my cell phone, and when I called it to see if I can find it, I heard him offering it for sale to someone, so I figured it's not going to find its way back to me.
You all know how long I've resisted cell phones, I've only started to use it a few months ago, and have never used all the minutes I am paying for. Still, I've got accustomed to its usefulness and distraction. Long story short - I got a new one. I feel foolish, I must admit.
How easy it is to become addicted to a silly little toy - that's all it is really, life has been going on without it for a lot longer than any of us can remember. We will go on living without it if we have to. We might even be happier and lighter, most likely. But I suspect we are not going to, not willingly.

Bad after Taste

I happened to drive this afternoon by a scene of a bike accident after it happened. The police was still there, a yellow tape blocking traffic, the broken bike, and a telling blood stain on the road, round, probably where they cyclist head lay just moments before I got there.
People stood around, watching, talking, but the injured person was no longer there.
Like a paparazzi, I snapped a picture. I don't know why.
Maybe because I knew it could be me, or any member of my family, next.

The Fountain of Youth

The secret is being silly every now and then, for no good reason. That is exactly what I did this morning - participating in a flash mob dance thing in Cabagetown, where a neighbourhood festival is taking place every fall. I was the oldest participant, but I pretended not to care. I had my fun.

A New Qoute

Because it's been a while:

I have a new philosophy. I’m only going to dread one day at a time.
Charles Schulz, in “Peanuts”.

New Arrivals, Fresh off the Press

This Canada Goose winter coat is probably the warmest thing you can ever hope to wear. It's brand new, size small, and available here for much less than what you'd pay in retails stores. So, what are you waiting for?
There is also a great Diesel winter jacket, military fashion, fantastic condition and great style.

Must Read Books

A brilliant piece of writing in the New York Times Book Review about the evolution of reading mechanisms, which illuminates why books won't die. I hope this assessment is also a prophecy, on top of being historically informative.

Back to School

Oh, it's cold out there, and the kids are on their way to school. Summer is officially, truly, seriously gone.
This was a rainy long weekend, we sat by a fireplace instead of on a dock. Too windy out there.
Sunset was very red on the horizon as it brought our summer to a complete close. We had to document it.

End of Summer

Happy Labour Day to all the hard working men, women and children out there. We all deserve a restful weekend, by the water, in the country, or in the city, where ever you are -lets soak up the last of the warmth and laziness in the air.

As for me - I'll be sitting on a dock (if it doesn't rain) and will strive to make progress on the first non-Rankin book in a long run: A Spot of Bother by Mark Heddon.

Be well, labourers world wide.

And - Renaissance Man Facebook Page

Please visit and find a way to add your likes, stories or recommendations to the new page. They say that presence on the web is a labour of love. Let's see of that's true. Any hard core lovers hang around here? please make yourselves known, don't be shy.
After all, this blog was created for the purpose of promoting my cute little shop. After 4 years of sharing my thoughts and adventures, maybe time has come to join the 21st century for real.

We're on Twitter

I've caved in. I've been told to go on Twitter ever since it exploded on the planet. Now you can follow renaissance man to and see what's new, what's on sale, and what's on my mind.

Cave of Forgotten Dreams

This is a documentary worth seeing, if for the sole reason that you'll never be able to visit the Chauvet cave and see the images for yourself.

The film tells the story of Chauvet cave in France that has the oldest prehistoric art, preserved well for 37,000 years because it was inaccessible for tens of thousands of years. It was discovered in the mid 1990's by accident, and soon after closed for the public for ever.
There are about 350 caves in France and Spain with similar art, but none as old.
Werner Hertzog was given permission to visit and shoot in there for 4 hours only. The cave is only open one week in a year for scientist and researchers.
He talks throughout the film, we hear his ruminations about the meaning of the drawings and his feelings as he walks in this ancient, deserted place of human worship. Sometimes his questions are completely out of the scope of the scientists he is interviewing, but they are kind and try to answer his inquiries with a sense of humour to the best of their abilities.
What is striking, what stays with us after seeing this, is the effective way those people were able to represent their appreciation of the natural environment in which they lived, how well they used the minimal means they had at their disposal to leave traces of their minds and way of life for us.
They are referred to as primitive people, but when you look at a galloping beautiful horse or a hunting lion which no longer exists, there is nothing primitive about it, only sublime, delicate beauty.

Summer Reads - Ian Rankin

I've been on a roll with Ian Rankin. We've devoted this summer to him, almost exclusively.
Not terribly challenging to read, the plots unfold themselves at a slow pace, slow enough to allow me to figure them out before I get to the end and make me feel pleased with my clever self.
The main detectives are usually misfits, with vices which only hurt themselves, their lives devoted to making life in Edinborough a little tougher for the wicked. They don't always succeed in their endeavours. I suppose that's why they are so widely liked.
I've read a few of Rebus's adventures, if you can call them that. He is a fine fellow to spend a summer with. Smart, relentless, unruly with a great mistrust of authorities and criminals alike. He drinks his way around the crimes he is investigating, even when told to stop both activities.
The new guy in my current book "The Complaints", Foxy, or Malcolm Fox, is even better than Rebus. I hope he is a recurrent player, but I haven't explored the list to know if he ever comes back or not.

To compliment the books we've watched a few episodes of the TV series Rebus, only to discover their resemblance to the books that bear the same names is completely non existent. You'd think it's not important, but it is. The TV plots are not as well developed, they are shallow and not as compelling as the ones in the book. Still, not a bad way to spend an evening at home during a thundering summer rainstorm.

Positives

Despite difficulties and challenges, this summer has been, continues to be, warm and pleasant and just fine. I believe in weather, even when the night sky is alight with lightning and fat warm rain pours down.

* Warm nights, playing tennis as the sun goes down, albeit not well enough to be seen in public, but fun nonetheless. A good excuse for wearing short shorts and run around like kids in the park.

*Last days of rising whenever one desires, not having to rush anyone out of bed for school.

*Flowers of a Rose of Sharon staring at me through my kitchen window as I sip my tasty coffee.

For the Love of Coffee

Coffee is a simple pleasure, yet so important.
Can you imagine not having any when you want some? must be so difficult. I remember episodes in movies about WW2 where desperate people did all kinds of things for a little bit of coffee grinds, and how far they went to get every bit of flavour out of it. It's always in my mind when I empty a filter into the trash and think myself lucky.
The Marriage of Maria Brown comes to mind - has anyone in this country ever seen this movie?

So, I bought an espresso machine. Second hand, of course. I am the queen of second hand. Cragslist has become a habit.

I LOVE my new machine. I take care of it, I clean it like you clean a weapon. I make a great cup of whatever every morning and I say to myself - I don't need to go to another coffee shop as long as this machine is alive.

I think it was a good investment.

Come Fly Away

Those who pay attention may remember a post a while ago with a youtube old video of Baryshnikov dancing a Twyla Tharp duet set to Frank Sinatra songs. Well, as it turns out this old dance piece has been turned into a full blown Broadway show called Come Fly Away and this afternoon I took my dancer boy to watch it at the Four Season center - rush tickets, naturally.
We had fun, despite my usual criticisms. The voice was Sinatra's, with a live band on stage. The choreography and staging could have been better. I liked the Baryshnikov version better, I admit. Broadway is not my thing. Still, the big band was fantastic, and the dancers very vibrant and sexy.
All in all, a nice way to spend an afternoon. We then went home and rented the old Guys and Dolls movie to give the young man some perspective on Sinatra. I still think it's the best musical ever to be produced.

A Poem by Adrienne Rich

From an Atlas of the Difficult World by Adrienne Rich
I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains' enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before running
up the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your
hand
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn
between bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else
left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.

Positives

Because the negatives (and there are some) are too depressing:

* Giving testimony for hours while your opponents have no choice but listen, the clock is ticking their money away as their hired entourage is paid by the hour.

* getting help from an old friend which money couldn't possibly buy.

* Gentle rustle of a summer rain in the trees, and a city house as quiet on a Monday like a country estate.

* kitchen mayhem slowly coming to a close, cooking is pleasant again, knickknacks go back on the walls, it feels like home again.

* nothing more precious than a hug from your big boy, and a kiss from a little one. And I didn't even have to beg, they were completely voluntary.

More of the same

We should look for inspiration here, where mayors have their priorities right.

Help Save Toronto Public Libraries

We are under attack - from our own mayor. This man is an embarrassment to our noble city. I bet he has not read a book in recent memory.
He sees no merit in keeping our public libraries supported, and his brother who sits in council complains there are more libraries than Tim Horton s in his neighbourhood. Poor man. He might stumble upon a library by mistake looking for a donut and be presented with a book instead, and there where would the city be?

What to do: keep pestering the city with our petition, keep the talk going, and don't let go. Click on the link, write personal comments, be as eloquent as you possibly can with your arguments, passionate, informed.

If you can come up with a plan to get a new mayor, more of a Renaissance Man than our current Middle Ages man, tell me about it.

Lets all remember 1933 Germany - burning books. That alone should remind us why libraries need to be publicly funded.

Oh, and don't we love that he is erasing the new bike lanes, at great expense, to make the city more car friendly?
This is the new face of Toronto, for those who have never laid eyes on this man:

Baby it's Hot Outside

Wednesday was the hottest day on record in Toronto, 39 degrees with a humidex over 40. I admit it was uncomfortable and all I wanted was to stay home with an ice cube pressed to my temple.
This week I kept reminding myself that one of the reasons I live here, is that I can't live like this 5-7 month of the year, bathing in my own sweat and going about my business feeling like a wilted flower;
That there are Places in the world where people sweat like that all the time - how do women keep their makeup on?
But I also remind myself that here, a heat wave passes away within a few days and a beautiful comfortable summer weather is just around the corner, at least for another month.
Also just around the corner are the fall and winter. So lets all suck it up, and soak the heat to store in our bones until then.

Whale of a Tale

I have to share, many have seen this already but for those who have not - watch how a small group on a tiny boat saves a whale from death, and the show of thanks they get in return:

Resting Places

I got a call from my mother in the middle of the night - her best friend passed away, Leukemia, fast an furious.
My mother spoke with her a few days earlier. She says she was not afraid to die. She was a brave woman, my mother says, in life and in death.
I knew the woman well, she is the mother of a childhood friend and I spent much time in her home when I was a little girl. Our fathers were colleagues. I met them when my father was dying, they came to his beautiful memorial, sad and loyal.
My mother wrote her dead friend a beautiful parting letter she wants to be read on her grave, she says she knows the dead can hear us. I doubt that very much of course - people have difficulty listening to each other in life, the skeptic in me has a hard time thinking that we improve upon death.
Farewell.
A friend who dies, it’s something of you who dies. –Gustave Flaubert, Pensées de Gustave Flaubert

Quote

Bernard Shaw, chauvinist pig that he was (could I say Shawvinist?), knew how to throw words together:

The only man I know who behaves sensibly is my tailor; he takes my measurements anew each time he sees me. The rest go on with their old measurements and expect me to fit them. –George Bernard Shaw