Mar

26

Sign of the Time, and the ReadyMade, and maybe the Your Prom too.

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do you read me?

The recession has already killed a number of mags. Some were short-lived start-ups, others, so far, had been mainstays in the publishing biz. Titles I thought were unfaltering, suffering an unjust demise. Entirely tragic.

To make myself feel a bit better about the whole thing, I’ve adopted the adage, “It’s not the length of life, but the quality of life lived.” Still. It’s the very quality of these mags ending which has me going from shock to depression and back again; stages one and six of the Seven Stages of Magazine Grief.

To wallow a little more in my writer’s gloom, I seem to seek places where I can further confront my denial–stage two–by visiting mag blogs, pour over publishing industry feeds and websites, or by simply walking among Magazines at Chapters, where no one is safe from my stage five anger.

I see a young man in the Entertainment section flip through Photolife. He carefully replaces the magazine when he hasn’t found what he’s looking for, and picks up Flaunt to thumb through next. I decide I respect this man’s choices of editorial fare and figure him to be a magophile. I gather all my mag-loving courage and embark. You see that? Pointing to Arena. April is the last issue. Then no more. Twenty years later and no more. You should buy that issue because it’s the last one. I think I am too. I’m going to start a little museum of sorts of every magazine’s last issue. How about you? Do you think the last issue is good?

I kid you not. I do do this. Read more

Jan

29

Her Master’s Voice: You Spin me Right Round

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High Fidelity

Anyone who has tried buying a CD at HMV knows exactly what I’m talking about. Confidence determines the list of must-have music be committed to memory. The list is then repeated mentally en route, and one final time before entering the shop. Suddenly, the list is wiped clean from your mind. Nothing inside the store is recognizable. The pesky, pressure-cooking question surfaces: “What am I doing here?” You leave with another Squeeze CD, Live in Nagoya, Japan, because you’ve done this before and own all their albums and greatest hits by now. It’s a mess, but now you’re building a collection of failed attempts and have convinced yourself of the merit of live recordings. Leaving empty-handed after all the effort, is not an option. A promise is made to oneself to commit the list to paper. Another promise is made to keep the earlier promise. Enough time passes and the experience becomes the amusing anecdote for the next time history repeats itself.

Of course, this is referring to a time where people shopped for CDs.

– The author of this blog on what entering the domain of dating can be like.

Jan

15

Dating Cycles and Couples without Borders: a Stunt in Evolution

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Nick Dewar Loaded Gun

Dating Cycles. If they don’t already exist, they should. And if they do, allow me to describe my take on the classification.

There is definitely a cyclical pattern when seeking a mate. A pre–period, where scouting begins, and the search is more active, or at least made aware by individuals involved; a during period, where the idea of the relationship is being explored; and a post-period, where hopefully respectful goodbyes allow for the couple to seek partners which meet their individual needs.

Granted, I am only taking into consideration of pairings which are unsuited. I imagine the Cycle takes on a different shape when the relationship has taken off and has some longevity to it; where the wheels need to be greased, rather than stop turning. My interest, however, lies in the influential period between being on one’s own and entertaining the idea of seeking a soul mate. The small space in time where the potential transition from the world of one into the world of two is possible. Where the cycle, at once, ends and begins.

There are many studies out there scientifically supporting how being a couple, in a relationship, a marriage, or any kind of union among people, is just plain good for the health of human beings, in general. The research shows married people live longer and are healthier in old age; have lower rates of cardiovascular disease, cancer, respiratory problems, mental illness, and are better at coping with stress.

And that’s only the biology. If better health isn’t reason enough to find someone to wake up next to, then consider all the emotional and mental benefits too. Caring, kindness, support, thoughtfulness and much more just seem to be the elements needed in order to keep life in the balance, and many a time, livable.

Do I even need to get into the physical component of entering a relationship? Didn’t think so.

What are the arguments then against pursuing a mate? Excluding baggage, relationsham, baby-instinct and marriage (I know, right?), what prevents people from pursuing love? Read more

Dec

24

Christmas Undressed

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Candy snowflake

Christmas is much like salad dressing,
Oil and vinegar need lots of messing.

Shaking, stirring, whipping to blend,
Family relationships willing to mend.

–It’s never perfect, and it’s never instant.
In fact, to grow close, it first becomes distant.–

And sometimes no damage can repair,
A relative’s lack of care.

The love-less feeling sticks to your throat,
For years and years, to get your goat.

What Christmas does, is remind you of a time,
When the lot of you, got along fine.

This is the picture through the frosty lens,
When in years past, each played pretend.

Since now the pretense isn’t sugar-coated.
Sincerity, not selfishness, has been out-voted.

And all the while, it sucks to discover,
Your cast ballot, never did matter.

So the high road is decorated with ornaments and lights,
Gin, Whisky, Cabs; Muscatels, and whites.

However, Read more

Oct

21

You Lyses

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Creation/Reaction

Years ago a friend once told me to never be apologetic for what I do, or who I am. He said, if anyone pressed me about my success, work, or livelihood at one of the many social gatherings I avoid at all costs, that I should just tell them I’m a writer, or a painter, or a baker, or whatever it is that I do. Just like that. No thinking, no holding back, no nothing.

He told me, for anyone interested, he would simply tell them he was an artist. No apologies. No way. If after that, the person didn’t know what to do with his response, then they were absolutely free to excuse themselves from the conversation, and find their investment banker, broker, IT manager friends, they came to the party with and re-enter the safe haven of the narrowed perspective (Happy hour Fridays, cottage weekends, training for marathons, house renovations) of their own making.

My friend’s response is obvious is it not? Nothing to argue with there except for maybe the not-so-obvious declaration an artist’s statement entails. Confidence. Read more

Sep

29

A-von it all.

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marimekko palette Avon

On the same day, I learned of two bits of news that were related and un-related all at the same time, leaving me with mixed feelings. One, I learned that Riitta Immonen, one of the founders of Finnish textiles and clothing design, marimekko, had died, in late August. Two, I learned that institutional American door-to-door makeup company, Avon, had partnered up with marimekko to create limited-edition eye shadow and all-over face, fall palettes. The obit was reported in The New York Times; the product PR, tucked in the pages of Lucky. Two publications talking to two sides of my multi-faceted personality. Confusing? Not really, but I couldn’t help but feel bad, guilty, happy and hopeful all at once.

The obit made me sad about life in general. How often do we hear of one’s life until it comes to an end? And how often do we only get the highlights and not the in-betweens, the things that were done before and after the bigger strokes the individual painted? All the scraps and bits that are usually on the cutting room floor of how that person was shaped, was changed and became one’s own aspiration.

But then, how does one find acceptance? Particularly, how could I be appeased by the news of Riitta’s death with a picture of a compact? How can a material good be the closest thing to understanding a human being? And why is there guilt in trying to reach such a creative gesture, a worldly gesture, in coveting a little pressed pigment?

This is silly, isn’t it? And yet I can’t help it. Read more

Aug

7

In the Public Eye, Gay Pride’s True Colours

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Pride Playbill

I wrote the following article last year, after a spectacle I witnessed, really betrayed me on how I felt about Gay Pride. I thought to submit the article for the back essay section of Jane, only to find out, that the mag was holding out for two more (already galleyed) issues before folding.

On a whim, I did submit it to the “Facts and Arguments Essay” back-page of The Globe and Mail realizing the point of view I took in my writing was more political than personal and therefore highly unlikely to be picked. So, like other posts published previously (and many others to follow that have been written but have yet to encounter an audience) I’m including it here for your review. I know there’s a lot of grammar issues, and I’m sure it could use much massaging and tightening up, but the subject matter to me is so pressing, that I feel, for now, a polished draft will have to suffice. (The writer thanks you for your patience.)

And so, without further ado.

Every year, across the continent, Gay Pride is celebrated. Every year, major cities become flooded with people ready to wave, raise and salute to the Pride rainbow banner. And every year, on the day of the Pride Parade, I stay at home. Read more

May

2

Springs Falls and Leaves

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Credit Debt Death and Death-Defying

As I get older, spring has long lost the adage of, “April showers, bring May flowers.” Even with the prospect of gray weather, the buoyancy of what spring is suppose to bring doesn’t really exist. And in reality, it’s just not that simple to do either.

During spring, flowers struggle to kiss the sun’s rays and colour and beautify the earth as the way we all want to hold on to the world all year long; full of colour, hope, beauty and honesty. But, somehow the clovers and dandelions race to suffocate the crocuses and lily of the valley in the annual awakening of life, which I have now come to realize what spring is really about: re-growth, not rebirth. Read more