Two Native Canadians & Tom Power Made My Day
Thursday, January 21, 2021
|Loretta Todd - Eden Robinson|
These days I try to find reasons to leave the house so that somehow
the solitary life of living without my Rosemary gives me the slight distraction
of a purpose at hand. Today I went to pick up some frames (many featuring Rosemary)
at Magnum Frames on Kent Avenue. Returning home I was listening to Tom Power’s
Q on CBC Radio 1. He was interviewing Native Canadian filmmaker Loretta Todd
who has just released her latest film called Monkey Beach which is based on Eden Robinson’s first (2000) novel by that name.
It seems it has taken Todd 8 years to finish this film that is dear to her
As I listened to her I remembered that back in 1999 I photographed
four Native Canadian filmmakers and one of them was Loretta Todd. In those days
journalism existed ever so nicely and that included covering the arts. I had
been assigned by the Georgia Straight.
I also remembered that in 2000 I had taken photographs of
Eden Robinson for the Globe and Mail.
Fishing out the two 6x7 cm transparencies of Todd and
Robinson have distracted me. Combining them and writing the above short blog
have made me smile (a tad).
And Mr. Tom Power, thank you.
Planning a Quick Exit
Wednesday, January 20, 2021
It has been well over a month since my Rosemary died
(December 9) and I have not been doing anything except staring at the ceiling
in my bedroom (formerly our) with Niño and Niña sharing my lap. This, is all happening
as I turn to the right and look at the empty space where my Rosemary once
occupied and now it is empty. Her presence somehow is there.
I makes me think of a philosophic thought:
Because she was, she
I have been unable to cross the deck into my oficina to
write a blog. Today I decided I had to start if only in some small way.
When I married Rosemary we decided that we were going to
have only daughters. Thankfully this happened and these days of living alone in
my (our) formerly cozy Kitsilano home my (our) daughters call every day and
sometimes even manage to visit.
A few days ago my friend Paul Leisz came over to fix a
computer problem and Curtis Daily called (he lives in Portland and plays a
baroque string bass. Recently he has
switched to the piano) somehow managed to get on the subject of Tina Turner’s
legs. I said nothing.
Today I ventured into this oficina and pulled out two files
neatly identified by my eldest daughter’s (Alexandra) fine printing. It was Ale
who first started my files which now occupy a large part of my office.
Not too long ago at a local photography school a rude
English student whose last name was a lovely Strand, asked me,”Alex do you have any photographs of people
who are still alive and who appear in magazines that still exist?”
As far as I know these two are still in this world while I
am planning my quick exit.