A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

Bloedel Conservatory's 45th Anniversary Today - My Unfounded Pessimism Proven Wrong
Saturday, December 06, 2014

Today is the Bloedel Conservatory's 45th anniversary and I am glad that my pessimism about its eventual fate was unfounded.
Deo Gratias

The Bloedel Conservatory - A Botanical Tower of Babel
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Many of you may be aware that the Bloedel Conservatory in Queen Elizabeth Park has been hoisted onto the chopping block due to more funding cuts on the behalf of our government. The Bloedel Conservatory is a true relic and has been a part of the Vancouver cityscape for 40 years! It is the unique geodesic dome home to a collection of more than 500 plant species, a pond filled with koi fish, and about 100tropical birds of various species. It's downfall in business in recent years has been largely due to the Canada Line construction on Cambie street and closures to parking lots around the park due to renovations to the reservoir below which put a big damper on the number of tour buses that could reach the facility. But as of 2008 the Conservatory's numbers have been on the rise, causing many of us to think the City board should look elsewhere to make it's cuts.

The CONSERVE THE BLOEDEL CONSERVATORY Petition to Vancouver Parks Board was created by and written by Nadiya Chettiar.




I received the above letter today via my friend and artist, Alan Storey. I often question the effectiveness of this computer-button advocacy. We can feel that we are contributing to the health and welfare of the environment by the mere pressing of that Send button. We can stay in the comfort of our home, drink our coffee and feel that we are helping. But, who knows, maybe this time it will have positive results.

I love the Bloedel Conservatory as does my wife Rosemary and my granddaughters Rebecca and Lauren. We go there at least three times a year. It is about now (and in those bleak gray days of January) when the Conservatory’s birds with their brilliant plumage beckon to make our life seem less bleak. I love to see my granddaughters talk and smile at Charlie the cockatoo.

But it is that blue Mexican agave that transports me to the Mexico I lived (and loved) for so many years. Its colour reminds me of driving by the Tequila district near Guadalajara that has miles and miles of the startling and stately blue agaves. I can smell that hot humid earth when I am at the Conservatory staring at the agave (I am beginning to call it my agave).

The problem of the Conservatory and the decision by the Vancouver Parks Board to shut it down to save money for me has its origins in a misguided (again my personal opinion) attempt by the botanical gardens of Vancouver to be independent of each other.

1. Nitobe Memorial Garden (located at the University of British Columbia)

2. UBC Botanical Garden and Centre for Plant Research (and a nearby rose garden by the Chan Centre).

3. VanDusen Botanical Garden

4. Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Garden (sometimes called the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden)

I regularly attend these four and one more, Darts Hill Garden (run by the Surrey Municipality) which was donated to Surrey by my friend the expert and passionate gardener, Francisca Darts. My wife and two granddaughters accompany me to these visits. In particular we like to go to the nearby VanDusen where my Rebecca and Lauren like to navigate the maze, watch the Koi, smell the roses and admire the fall colour, spring with the magnolias and enjoy the paradoxically bleak but lovely garden in the winter. We go to the plant sales at both VanDusen and at UBC.

You would think that these gardens would link to each other through their web pages and try to think up of joint projects that would attract more local patrons as opposed to the tourists who seem to know of their attractions.

But there are a couple of issues. One of them is the special status of UBC. It is not Vancouver when it is convenient for UBC. It is part of Vancouver when it is convenient. They have at UBC their own independent zoning laws. I know of at least one well known musical organization in Vancouver that had a problem getting city grants when the city found out that they were using UBC venues!

Consider that both the UBC Botanical Garden and Centre for Plant Research and the VanDusen Botanical Garden have a large army of unpaid volunteers. These unpaid volunteers (as an example at VanDusen) cannot pull weeds (even when they see one) because this would infringe on the duties of the paid parksboard employees who maintain the garden. This has been a smoldering issue for years. It is a shock to find out that the garden is not private (it seems to be) and that it is indeed run by the Vancouver Parks Board. Its ambivalent nature (Is it private? Is it public?) is similar to the ambivalent nature of the UBC Botanical Garden (is it in Vancouver? Is it not in Vancouver?)

Another issue that prevents linkage among these gardens is that the only truly botanical garden in Vancouver is the one that is not in Vancouver but out in UBC. Consider its name, UBC Botanical Garden and Centre for Plant Research. That implies that it communicates with other botanical gardens around the world. They exchange plants and seeds. They introduce new and highly desirable plants to us and to the world.


The other gardens in our city, including that Japanese on out at UBC are in reality display gardens. They are not strictly speaking, botanical gardens.

It is perhaps this difference that keeps the only real botanical garden, the one at UBC such a secret from the rest of our City. To me it is isolated. Yet its garden shop is a beauty with a massive garden book collection and its yearly plant sale is the only one that features plants for sale that you would never find anywhere else in the lower mainland. That botanical garden at UBC is a treasure waiting to be discovered by us the residents of this city.

It is my belief that the problem of the Conservatory would be resolved if all our gardens got together in a spirit of cooperation (as our politicians so often say without meaning).

One other place to begin would be to take our children to these gardens and make it part of their exisitence. When they grow up our gardens will not seem to be lofty places of academia but warm, beautiful and inviting refuges from the stresses of modern life.


UBC Botanical Garden
Nitobe Garden
Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Garden
VanDusen Botanical Garden
Darts Hill

Addendum: In her statement above Conservatory defender and enthusiast Nadiya Chettiar calls our Conservatory a "true relic". I know what she means. Perhaps in English we have lost the original meaning of relic( a most Catholic one) which used to be the word we used for the bones and other remains of saints. They were prized and kept in beautiful showcases or vaults in cathedrals and churches. It is a particular Vancouver flaw that we don't see the treasured relics of our city. They become invisible to us and we only realize their value when they are gone.



A Lovely Un-Christmas With Mary Poppins & An Angel
Friday, December 05, 2014




Vancouverites for a long time were creatures of habit. You drank your coffee at Murchie’s, bought your books at Duthie’s, went to Stanley Park, bought your umbrellas at the Umbrella Shop and for Christmas you went to a Nutcracker and made sure you witnessed and sang along one Messiah. And of course you had to take in It’s a Wonderful Life at the Stanley and rent the 1951 A Christmas Carol with Alastair Sim as Ebenezer Scrooge.

Things may be changing perhaps with the demise of family-owned businesses not being able to compete with the American Big Box. Some changes are not of that ilk.

Consider that a couple of weeks back I went to the Art Club Theatre’s anti-Christmas (but very definitely with that Christmas spirit) A Twisted Christmas Carol at the Granville Island Review Stage.

Second in this trend that I call the Alternative Vancouver Christmas was Saturday’s Arts Umbrella Dance Company’s  Mixed Nuts. With an occasional nod to Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Mixed Nuts was to The Nutcracker what A Twisted Christmas Carol was to Charles Dickens.

The last Nutcracker I ever saw (with both my granddaughters) was some years ago. We went because the Sugar Plum Fairy was the inimitable Sandrine Cassini who at the time was dancing (briefly) with the Alberta Ballet. I will have to be still alive and sentient in some far away future to take my great-grandchildren (none yet, thank God) to another Nutcracker.

There are two more anti-Christmas (but very Christmas events to add to the list. One of them is the Sunday, December 21 Early Music Vancouver presentation at the Chan of J.S. Bach’s Christmas Oratorio (whew! no Messiah chorus for me this year) just Bach

The other event I went to last week with my 12 year-old granddaughter Lauren. It was the opening night of the Arts Club Theatre presentation of the Broadway play Mary Poppins, Directed by Bill Millerd at the Stanley Industrial Alliance Theatre.

Both of us had enjoyed this production last year (virtually the same as all the actors came back) staring the phenomenal Sara-Jeanne Hosie as Mary Poppins.

Since I knew I would want to write here about our experience I searched for a handle. I found it quickly thanks to Lauren. She wanted to know (and guessed at some) how the magic tricks like pulling a long floor lamp from a carpetbag on a bed could be done.

While attempting to write an essay for the Vancouver Sun’s Religion/Spiritual writer Douglas Todd on the spirituality of J.S. Bach I found that in the past century and most of the others an organized (and then) most important Christian religion, not to mention the miracles that God performs in the Old Testament for the Israelites, there was an idea of unexplained magic, the miracle.

By the late 1960’s (with a nod to Cecil B. DeMille who managed to successfully part the Red Sea in his 1956 film The Ten Commandments) special effects in film had taken care of making the idea of pulling razor blades or a rabbit from a hat boring. Magic was dead and is more so this century. Not a couple of days ago I read how the plague of frogs was digitally (partially) accomplished in this year’s soon-to-be released Ridley Scott blockbuster Exodus – Gods and Kings. It would seem that special effects become boring until more elaborate and complicated ones are found.

While I am not advocating we all go en masse to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, there seems we have lost our ability to wonder about the impossible and the magic of it.

Without angels, and Christmas trees, Mary Poppins deftly brings back that spirit of magic, that spirit of Christmas to this season.

Bernard Cuffling
But I must mention an occurrence that charmed my Lauren. As we were about to leave the Stanley, a gentle tall man came down the stairs from the balcony. I stopped him and told him, “This is my granddaughter Lauren. I am going to ask you a question and I want you to answer it truthfully. Are you an angel?” With a smile on his face and with that marvellous voice of his, Bernard Cuffling looked at Lauren and said, “Indeed I am. And will be more of one this coming year.”

It would seem that Lauren and I have our Christmas play all planned for 2015. It will be It’s a Wonderful Life. After a couple of off years this will be a fresh new start for another Vancouver institution at the Stanley?



A Victory Ship, A Bourbon & A Jukebox - On Christmas Eve
Thursday, December 04, 2014






The year 1966 was one of the saddest of my life and it culminated with the loneliest Christmas Eve I have ever experienced.

It was sometime around July of that year in the middle of a bleak and humid Buenos Aires winter when I attempted to call up my girlfriend Susy for solace. She answered the phone and told me (here it is a recollection and I don’t remember her exact words), “This is the last time we will ever talk and I will never see you again. Do not try to reach me. You're an uncouth and uneducated sailor. I now have a new friend. He is older and plays the violin for the Teatro Colón.” And that was that. I went into my room at a pension run by a retired German submariner from WWII and cried. To make it worse I put All Blues (Miles Davis – Kind of Blue) on my record player and went into a lower plane of depression. But since I was 23, youth took over and as soon as spring (the jacarandas turned brilliant blue) arrived I knew I would be soon returning to my home in Veracruz, Mexico.

Sometime in the end of November I boarded the Argentine Merchant Marine ship, Río Aguapey as its only passenger. I made friends with a couple of young junior officers. They, the daily lunch and dinner of steak with my personal bottle of Argentine wine helped to alleviate my pain and forget Susy. In my cabin, when I was not taking photographs of every evening’s sunset, I read Oswald Spengler.

Christmas Eve we docked in New Orleans and I decided to take a walk on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. I heard lots of Dixieland sound coming out from many bars and clubs. Since I was a connoisseur (I thought so) of cool jazz this music was not my cup of tea. I opted for one of those places that had strippers. I had never ever seen one (I made up for lost time when I moved to Vancouver in 1975). I sat on the front row (not yet knowing that it would soon be called genecology row in Vancouver) and ordered bourbon. I stupidly thought this was the drink to order. Since I do not like spirits, sipping the stuff burned my throat. A bored looking woman appeared. She went to a jukebox on the side of the stage and plugged it in. She pressed a few keys and began to dance. All I can remember it that I was thoroughly bored, depressed and I left as soon as she finished. Before she left the stage she unplugged the jukebox.

I went back to my ship. Most were asleep.  I climbed into my bunk and felt saddened by the experience. New Orleans had been my first return to the United Sates in about four years. I did not like the US that I had found in New Orleans. It seemed to be a Christmas Eve unshared.

In the late 80s I returned to Buenos Aires. I called up Susy. She was divorced. I rang the bell. She opened the door and staring at me said, "Aren't you going to kiss me?"





A Twisted Christmas Carol Stands-up To Scrutiny
Wednesday, December 03, 2014


The Ghost of Christmas Past haunts Granville Island

Before I rant and rave (mostly the second) about the Arts Club Theatre production of Rock Paper Scissors “alternative to Charles Dickens” A Twisted Christmas Carol directed by John Murphy at the Granville Island Review Stage let me set the record straight that as a Latin American-born (Argentine) man I do not understand the concept of paying money to go into a club to listen to people making jokes about Surrey. I simply almost loathe the concept of stand-up comedy.

But the Arts Club Theatre Company introduced me to the humour of  Ryan Beil and I had to accept the fact that I was beginning to slide towards liking this sort of humour. There is not doubt now.

A Twisted Christmas Carol, which somehow keeps to the general plot of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, is lightly scripted and allows the audience to vary many of the twists and turns of this hilariously funny play/experience. On opening day I went with my younger daughter Hilary Stewart. Thanks to her I was clued in to elements that would have gone over my head like music from films such as Halloween and actions that mimicked Jaws and Friday the 13th. On opening night (last night Wednesday) we the audience determined that Scrooge and his dead partner Jacob Marley headed a Gymnastics Studio. On other nights it might be a plumbing company, or who knows, a uranium exploration company?

Within the Dickens plot, nicely narrated by a very English Kirk Smith playing Charles Dickens the other actors, Diana Francis, Jeff Gladstone, Gary Jones and Bill Pozzobon (very good, very funny, superb Shakespearean voice and with a surname that suggests he might have an ancestry as a Dickens character) through their stand-up comedy expertise, were able to rise up to the crazy demand of the spectators.

In a season where if I listen to Marilyn Monroe sing Santa Baby one more time (the last time yesterday at the Tea House in Stanley Park) I will go mad (and taken away in a straight jacket) before Christmas falls upon us, it is  refreshing to witness a play that is not traditional in the strict meaning of that word. It’s a Wonderful Life, like the Nutcracker I can skip until I have great-grandchildren that I can expose to that sort of thing. And that is why A Twisted Christmas Carol did its thing for me which was to make me laugh and look forward to the season without tiring me out without “chestnuts ‘n stuff.”

The cast of A Twisted Christmas Carol -Kirk Smith, Jeff Gladstone, Bill Pozzobon, Gary Jones & Diana Francis
While looking through some of my books I found a beautiful copy of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens illustrated by Arthur Rackham. I opened it and noticed the book plate “This book belongs to Hilary Waterhouse-Hayward”. I gave this book to Hilary when she was 7 in the late 70s.

I further noticed the Preface:

I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book to raise the Ghost of an Idea which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their house pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.

Their faithful Friend and Servant,

December, 1843 C.D.


I would think that the book’s preface is a just review of A Twisted Christmas Carol




Art Bergmann - Singer-Songwriter-Guitarist
Tuesday, December 02, 2014

My Mother's Red Shawl - El Rebozo Colorado
Art Bergmann - Singer/Songwriter/Guitarist





hey alex, art here...I just don't know what to say about yr mother’s red. It smelled so new but I could tell by the quality it was ancient, or it imbued a sense of wisdom somehow...red shawl, red shawl...over the last few years I have been walking through Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's The Red Wheel, his version of the events leading up to the earth-shaking Russian Revolution. It includes documentation of everything said by the various characters involved, mixed with fictional stories from all facets of Russian life...from peasants, workers, revolutionaries to the liberal squawkers in the endless debates at the Duma...this is what I think of when I remember wearing the red shawl as you gave me no historical facts regarding said shawl. 

Editor's note: When Bergmann first put on the red shawl he said, "I think I am in my Mahatma Gandhi mode." This was the first exposure.

Homero Aridjis Poeta
Zippy Pinhead Musician
Caitlin Legault Art Model
Holly McRea Model - Poet - Creation Conduit.
Lisa Ha Model - Volunteer - Friend
Carmen Alatorre Diseñadora de vestuario
Roberto Baschetti Sociólogo, Investigador Histórico - Amigo
Jennifer Froese Youth Worker
Rachel Cairns Actor
Jennifer Landels Espadachina
Judith Currelly Pilot- Artist
Jim Erickson Set Decorator
Alexandra Hill Soprano
Georgina Elizabeth Isles Figure Model
Emma Middleton Actor
Mark Pryor Author/Lawyer/Assistant DA Travis County TX
Brother Edwin Charles Reggio, CSC Mentor & Teacher
Veronica Vex Burlesque Dancer
George McWhirter Poet
Raúl Guerrero Montemayor Padre-Compadre
Alexandra Waterhouse-Hayward Maestra
Shirley Gnome Singer/Provocateur
Yeva & Thoenn Glover Dancers/Choreographers
JJ Lee Writer
Jacqueline Model
Cathy Marsden Psychiatrist
André De Mondo Wanderer
Colin MacDonald Saxophonist/Composer
Nina Gouveia Yoga Instructor
Stacey Hutton Excercise Physiologist
Colleen Wheeler Actor
Sarah Rodgers Actor, Director,Mother
Tim Turner - Real Estate Agent
Kiera Hill Dancer
Johnna Wright & Sascha Director/Mother - Son/Dreamer
Decker & Nick Hunt Cat & 19th century amateur
George Bowering Poet
Celia Duthie Gallerist
Linda Lorenzo Mother
Katheryn Petersen Accordionist
Stefanie Denz Artist
Ivette Hernández Actress
Byron Chief-Moon Actor/Dancer
Colin Horricks Doctor
Ian Mulgrew Vancouver Sun Columnist
Jocelyn Morlock Composer
Corinne McConchie Librarian
Rachel Ditor Dramaturg
Patrick Reid Statesman, Flag Designer
Michael Varga CBC Cameraman
Bronwen Marsden Playwright/Actress/Director
David Baines Vancouver Sun Columnist
Alex Waterhouse-Hayward Photographer
Lauren Elizabeth Stewart Student
Sandrine Cassini Dancer/Choreographer
Meredith Kalaman Dancer/Choreographer
Juliya Kate Dominatrix











A Beautiful Ballerina, Calvados & A Killer Toothache
Monday, December 01, 2014



My knowledge of alcoholism is limited to the fact that my father was one and many of the Haywards who had the alcohol bug. Several of them died of stomach or liver problems. My father might have been the exception in that he died on the street during a heart attack.

I have no idea if I have the alcoholic gene. For most of my life I have had a fear to all addictions. Some 15 years ago I gave up pipe smoking because I told myself that it was stupid and I had lost interest.

Any small quantity of alcohol induced a short-lived hangover that was replaced by terrible migraines. My migraine attacks ceased when I was around 60. If I have one addiction it is my predilection for fine black and loose tea. At any given moments I have seven or eight large tins of exotic and very good tea. I drink it strong.

My eldest daughter says I have an addiction to sugar so I now put less of it to sweeten my tea.

This does not mean that I don’t occasionally drink alcohol. For many years at the Railway Club they kept a bottle of Tío Pepe in the fridge or a fine manzanilla when they could find it. For lunch they would serve me my soup with a small glass of the sherry. I would pour half of it into the soup and sip what was left slowly.

My usual escape from wedding invitations is to say, “If you are not serving Moët & Chandon I will not go.”

In the late 80s my first cousin (and godmother’s) husband Dolfi Kuker told me, “Alejandro, I know you don’t like wine. But you will like this one.” This was in Buenos Aires and he served me some very cold Torrontés white wine made in the Province of Salta. This is the only wine I like. When you sip it, it somehow feels that you have bitten into a large handful of green grapes.

I had a very good ecdysiast friend called Tarren who when I went to admire her dancing and everything else would send little glasses of Baileys Irish Cream. She got me pretty tipsy but I stuck to my principles and was a gentleman to the end.

At about the time Gary Taylor would invite me to be a judge in the battle of the bands in his Gary Taylor’s Rock Room. He knew I was a cheap judge as I would not consume either the expensive cocaine that was offered or drink vast quantities of beer. A fellow judge convinced me to try something called a Tequila Banger. You poured soda water into a glass of tequila. You would lift the glass and cover the top with your hand. You would then bang it hard on the table. It would fizz up and then you would drink it in one gulp. I remember nursing a hangover in my tub (at the time we were living in Burnaby). I watched a towel slide off the towel rack. When it hit the floor the hangover turned into one of the worst migraines in memory.

Simply I don’t drink. I don’t take drugs and I don’t smoke anything.

Sometime in the early 80s Western Living hired me to photograph a few people who were importing exotic food stuffs to Vancouver. One of them was Portuguese José Velagao who had a firm called Continental Importers. His ex wife, Caren McSherry now runs the Gourmet Warehouse on East Hastings. I was invited for lunch by Velagao who treated me to an omelette in which he ground this curious (rare then, he introduced it to Vancouver) three colour pepper corn. The omelette was delicious. After a wonderful flan for dessert he told me, “One of the most underrated after-dinner drinks is the French apple brandy Calvados. I was given a little glass of it. It was strong but heavenly.

Every few years I buy a bottle and drink some when I have the right guests.

This is a story that I have told before but it warrants to be told again so that the subject of the story can adorn this blog.


Sandrine Cassini


In October 2011 my all-time favourite ballerina, Sandrine Cassini (I had first noticed her at Ballet BC) had returned for a short stint as a choreographer/dancer with the Victoria Ballet Company. She had been dancing in Germany. Originally I had noticed her because she had the stamp of the Paris Opera Ballet when she walked. And indeed she had started there before moving to the Monaco Ballet and also to be photographed by Helmut Newton.

Cassini was in town and she was going to dance at North Van’s Centennial Theatre.

The night before I had a tremendous tooth ache. My dentist had given me his cell number just in case. I was determined to avoid the man. That night I swilled Calvados in my mouth and the pain dissipated. The next day in the afternoon the pain returned in full force. I swilled and swilled and suddenly I had this conversation in my head:

Officer I know that I have alcohol breath. It is not your normal alcohol breath. It is Calvados a very fine French apple brandy. I have a terrible tooth ache. I have not imbibed. I have swilled it to kill the pain. I must go and see the glorious Sandrine Cassini dance. If you knew how she dances and what she looks like you would trust me and let me go.

I was not stopped and I got to the Centennial Theatre. Cassini was up first dancing to the music of one of Bach’s Suites for Unaccompanied Cello. She was superb. Somehow the cello was at a frequency that penetrated into my tooth and the pain was unbearable. I soldiered on (I had no hip flask) and after the show I took this iPhone 3G picture that made the trip worthwhile.



Winning By A Nose
Sunday, November 30, 2014




Caitlin Legault

Figure model Caitlin Legault broke her nose trice. The first time when she was studying karate she threw a man over her shoulder but forgot to tuck her head in. The second time, an incredulous gentleman did not believe the story so Legault demonstrated the move on him and forgot to tuck in her head…

Legault has the kind of face that makes me utter the same joke when she knocks on my door. I always say, “You look familiar,” and she smiles. She has that kind of universal face (perhaps one of Plato’s essences, the essence of woman?) that she can transform herself and her face becomes whatever you might want to make of it. 




She poses for hours, without moving in art colleges but also does that kind of stuff with photographers who might say, “Move, do something different.”

I explained to Legault that Marlene Dietrich popularized what we now call Hollywood or Paramount or Butterfly (the shadow under the nose) Lighting. Dietrich posed for George Hurrell and loved what his high spotlight on a boom did for her cheekbones. She then commanded (and she could) that all lighting directors in her films use that boom light. Until somebody figured out in using a small light pointed at eye level to her face, many technicians spent days painting catch lights on long meters of movie film. 




Another catch with Hollywood lighting is that if your subject moves a bit (millimeters) in any direction that shadow under the nose can drift and make the resulting image ugly. This meant that when Dietrich acted she had to be still. Once she did the boom light had to be re-positioned.

Legault, who can stay in one pose for a long time had no problem with my Hollywood setup this past Saturday. And soon (she learns quickly) she could feel where the light on her face was. 




Here is a sample of some of the pictures I took of her with my Fuji X-E1 set at 800 ISO and tungsten as the pictures were taken with my flash’s modeling lights but not with the flash.

I would venture to assert that without that kink on her nose, Legault’s face would be as beautiful but perhaps not as interesting.



     

Previous Posts
Sandrine Cassini On My Red Psychiatric Couch

The Paris Opera Ballet & Alonso King Lines Ballet

Sandrine Cassini - A Soon-to-be Visit by an Appari...

The Clubhouse On Second

Sound Holes

Faded - Recovered - Scanned - Delight

El Absurdo Infinito

Miss D, My Chickering Baby Grand & Fuji FP-100C

Lee Lytton III & Friendly & Warm Ghosts

San Valentín



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10/7/07 - 10/14/07

10/14/07 - 10/21/07

10/21/07 - 10/28/07

10/28/07 - 11/4/07

11/4/07 - 11/11/07

11/11/07 - 11/18/07

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11/25/07 - 12/2/07

12/2/07 - 12/9/07

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12/16/07 - 12/23/07

12/23/07 - 12/30/07

12/30/07 - 1/6/08

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1/13/08 - 1/20/08

1/20/08 - 1/27/08

1/27/08 - 2/3/08

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9/21/08 - 9/28/08

9/28/08 - 10/5/08

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10/12/08 - 10/19/08

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11/9/08 - 11/16/08

11/16/08 - 11/23/08

11/23/08 - 11/30/08

11/30/08 - 12/7/08

12/7/08 - 12/14/08

12/14/08 - 12/21/08

12/21/08 - 12/28/08

12/28/08 - 1/4/09

1/4/09 - 1/11/09

1/11/09 - 1/18/09

1/18/09 - 1/25/09

1/25/09 - 2/1/09

2/1/09 - 2/8/09

2/8/09 - 2/15/09

2/15/09 - 2/22/09

2/22/09 - 3/1/09

3/1/09 - 3/8/09

3/8/09 - 3/15/09

3/15/09 - 3/22/09

3/22/09 - 3/29/09

3/29/09 - 4/5/09

4/5/09 - 4/12/09

4/12/09 - 4/19/09

4/19/09 - 4/26/09

4/26/09 - 5/3/09

5/3/09 - 5/10/09

5/10/09 - 5/17/09

5/17/09 - 5/24/09

5/24/09 - 5/31/09

5/31/09 - 6/7/09

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6/21/09 - 6/28/09

6/28/09 - 7/5/09

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7/19/09 - 7/26/09

7/26/09 - 8/2/09

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8/9/09 - 8/16/09

8/16/09 - 8/23/09

8/23/09 - 8/30/09

8/30/09 - 9/6/09

9/6/09 - 9/13/09

9/13/09 - 9/20/09

9/20/09 - 9/27/09

9/27/09 - 10/4/09

10/4/09 - 10/11/09

10/11/09 - 10/18/09

10/18/09 - 10/25/09

10/25/09 - 11/1/09

11/1/09 - 11/8/09

11/8/09 - 11/15/09

11/15/09 - 11/22/09

11/22/09 - 11/29/09

11/29/09 - 12/6/09

12/6/09 - 12/13/09

12/13/09 - 12/20/09

12/20/09 - 12/27/09

12/27/09 - 1/3/10

1/3/10 - 1/10/10

1/10/10 - 1/17/10

1/17/10 - 1/24/10

1/24/10 - 1/31/10

1/31/10 - 2/7/10

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2/21/10 - 2/28/10

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3/21/10 - 3/28/10

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4/4/10 - 4/11/10

4/11/10 - 4/18/10

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4/25/10 - 5/2/10

5/2/10 - 5/9/10

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5/23/10 - 5/30/10

5/30/10 - 6/6/10

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6/20/10 - 6/27/10

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7/4/10 - 7/11/10

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8/22/10 - 8/29/10

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9/26/10 - 10/3/10

10/3/10 - 10/10/10

10/10/10 - 10/17/10

10/17/10 - 10/24/10

10/24/10 - 10/31/10

10/31/10 - 11/7/10

11/7/10 - 11/14/10

11/14/10 - 11/21/10

11/21/10 - 11/28/10

11/28/10 - 12/5/10

12/5/10 - 12/12/10

12/12/10 - 12/19/10

12/19/10 - 12/26/10

12/26/10 - 1/2/11

1/2/11 - 1/9/11

1/9/11 - 1/16/11

1/16/11 - 1/23/11

1/23/11 - 1/30/11

1/30/11 - 2/6/11

2/6/11 - 2/13/11

2/13/11 - 2/20/11

2/20/11 - 2/27/11

2/27/11 - 3/6/11

3/6/11 - 3/13/11

3/13/11 - 3/20/11

3/20/11 - 3/27/11

3/27/11 - 4/3/11

4/3/11 - 4/10/11

4/10/11 - 4/17/11

4/17/11 - 4/24/11

4/24/11 - 5/1/11

5/1/11 - 5/8/11

5/8/11 - 5/15/11

5/15/11 - 5/22/11

5/22/11 - 5/29/11

5/29/11 - 6/5/11

6/5/11 - 6/12/11

6/12/11 - 6/19/11

6/19/11 - 6/26/11

6/26/11 - 7/3/11

7/3/11 - 7/10/11

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7/17/11 - 7/24/11

7/24/11 - 7/31/11

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8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

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9/25/11 - 10/2/11

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10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

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5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

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7/1/12 - 7/8/12

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8/19/12 - 8/26/12

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9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

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10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

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11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

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12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

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4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

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5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

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6/23/13 - 6/30/13

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8/4/13 - 8/11/13

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8/25/13 - 9/1/13

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9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

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10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

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11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

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2/23/14 - 3/2/14

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3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

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4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

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11/30/14 - 12/7/14

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12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

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1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

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11/22/15 - 11/29/15

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12/20/15 - 12/27/15

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1/31/16 - 2/7/16

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4/24/16 - 5/1/16

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12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

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2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17