A woman who visited the gallery came to my party and reached to me. She said she needed me to follow her into my room, she was with another woman and a small dog. It felt of an urgent nature but when we crossed into my room I exited from a white high rise apartment building, storming out. The scene changed completely. I am an asian man walking away from an asian woman. She is yelling at me and I yell back. We are aging quickly, slowing wrinkling during the entire scene. I am walking through fences onto the sidewalk when this woman, my partner, catches up to me and dumps the rest of her orange juice over my head. I feel it's thickness laced with the pulp and feel enraged. While she continued to yell at me in a language I can't understand I unscrewed my vitamin water and poured the entire thing over her head. Her hair soaked, she was in shock. I violently walked away from her back into the apartment building, she as an old lady began to cry.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
"This is your fault."
After I spoke with Lance on the phone, I exited in a hurry. I was going to be late for rehearsal. Outside my house, the driveway was full of cars and a deep night had taken over. I looked for my mother's Pontiac, surrounded by random cars from the past. Other friends were there, all to help me move the vehicles around so I could get out. Michelle Brewer was one of those people, directing the scene. My sister was there too, but every time she moved a car she would scratch into another. As the scene deteriorated car after car turned up somehow on our lot. They seemed to be multiplying! I found my father splitting wood beside the garage, as if trying to ignore the scene. When I asked him where our car was and if he could help he said simply, "This is your fault." and went on with his wood chopping. Annoyed I turned away from him and marched towards Michelle who was wearing a stage managers radio head set. "I'm going to be late for rehearsal." I said. And when I thought she was going to relay the message for me, instead she exclaimed, "I found Tercie!" pointing to her grandmothers old teal Toyota Tercell sitting in my driveway. One of dozens of cars there.
Duck fever
Follow the dog or sink
As I sank deeper and deeper into the warm black water, I realized it was me back there on the road who needed an ambulance. As I drifter further away from the scene, ignoring my own call for help, I was getting closer to death. The dog kept barking and I lost interest in returning home. I thought I was dying, but I woke up instead.
From what I can remember, I was chasing Suzanne Doyle-Yerxa through a public place. A mall megaplex movie theatre with food courts and shops and pop corn on the floor. She asked me if I had any gum which I knew I had. I dug through the front pouch of my black back pack, pulled out an empty pack, threw it back and grabbed the newer pack. She took it from me and said, "It's good to give away what you need." Suz looked back at me and took off into the crowd, giving pieces of my gum to random people as she went.
I tried to follow her but got caught in the mass. Up stairs, down escalators, through line ups past potted plants. The atmosphere was red, with Vegas style lights advertising here and there. It became a game to get to Suz.
Finally, I reached the other side of the mall and exited onto the street. I saw Mrs. Yerxa across, seated at a cafe patio with her youngest daughter Brooke. At this point I was carrying more than just my black back pack but also many parcels and other bags. Evidently I had gone shopping during my search.
I crossed the road, and when I dodged a car successfully I looked up at the Suz and Brooke who were both applauding. I held up my bags in victory. When I reached their table I could tell they were celebrating Brooke's birthday and I was happy to be in the presence of another Sagittarius.
This is when the scene changed suddenly. Brooke disappeared, as did the cafe. Instead we were on the street behind my old apartment building on Jameson. Suz and I were talking about heavy things, and Michael, her oldest son, was seated on a bench on the sidewalk listening to us. It was night time and I knew that I had a movie date to make. As we spoke about the past and our lives, Mrs. Yerxa gave me great comfort although I do not recall the details of the conversation. But I had received my prize for finding her and all my bags were gone. As tears came to my face I knew it was good to leave on a high note. I told her I loved her and gave her a hug. She told me I had a good heart. I turned and left. As I went to hug Michael goodbye also, he stormed past me towards his mother, he was crying too hard and so I left up the street.
As I walked north towards King Street to catch the streetcar, it started to rain. The rain came down fast, and standing there waiting at the stop I decided I wasn't going to make it to the movies. Instead I thought of Adam, warm and dry back at home. I turned and decided to walk to him. I was getting soaked and could feel the water leaking in to my pocket where my phone was. When I got to Springhurst Avenue the street quickly flooded with black water, at least it was warm but I had to wade home, my phone was ruined. As I ventured past the last street before I got to my own I could tell there was an emergency taking place. A woman yelled at me to call an ambulance. People were crowding around a young man's body on the front lawn to a house. I ignored it and pressed on, pushed by the thought of getting to Adam.
The water kept getting deeper, I had to swim. So close to home I thought, I need to make it. The sun came up, night turned to day in moments and the rain slowed and stopped. A dog was barking back at the scene of the accident, but another dog swam by me and then in front of me, as if leading me home. I thought to myself, I need to get out of his path or I will drink his pee. My mouth still half under the black water, I began swimming on a diagonal. Then I put it together. The accident up the road was the real me, and the spirit of me was swimming towards the home I so desperately wanted to get to. Instead of following the dog back I was getting pulled under the water. I was unable to help myself and unable to follow such obvious signs so I was sinking to my death. I could feel the end coming. I woke up.
Monday, December 6, 2010
A walk in the woods....
Winter ain't so bad as long as you got your long johns and parka. Got lost while following deer tracks and listening to the trees talk, wound up going in circles looking for moss and pictures but eventually got popped out onto a road which led me from a to be to c. And then it started to snow.
Festivusbesties
4 years later Parkdale Festivus still raises money full swing, this year for Interval House, a shelter for abused women and children. Here I am with two of my very close friends who helped organize the event. http://intervalhouse.ca/
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Charles Hatch
Friday, December 3, 2010
I was making a soup in my sink
Chopping, peeling, cutting and mixing, I kept adding ingredients to a soup. It was a big job, and I was preparing the meal in my kitchen sink. The sink was attached to heat elements which turned the massive steel bowl into a modern caldron complete with elements, heat dials and timers. Using my arms to stir the growing mix I could feel the broth slowly getting warmer.
I was making a soup in my sink at Adam's mom's house in the country. Adam was there watching and so was his mom, his step dad was somewhere close by too. I felt good about doing something nice for them. As I continued my preparations I noticed Adam had brought my ash tray from home. He looked at the cigarette butts and called them a word I didn't understand and can't remember. Thinking he was judging me as I stirred potatoes into my soup I surrendered that the butts were gross and needed to quit. Adam replied that he simply meant they looked good and understood how people could get addicted. With that he dumped the ash tray with all the cigarettes into my soup.
"Don't do that!" I moaned, like an impatient child. Quickly, I started sifting my hands through the broth in an attempt to retrieve the dirty filters. As I caught them one by one I ordered Adam to grab another onion from the pantry. "Slice it up and throw it into my soup," I said, "we need to cover the taste."
"Cherries on the mocha?!"
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The wind howls "love freedom"
A ghost came to me last night. He howled like the wind and woke me from my slumber with a cold chill. Suddenly jolted from deep sleep I felt the tension of that trapped energy I have become familiar with. He was disrupted by the presence of police in our home, it was his home too. After all, how could they be trusted? The wind moaned louder against my window. This ghost told me not to be afraid of being blocked and to love freedom. I acknowledged his presence and he left immediately.
