Saturday August 26, 2017
from a business card
“I think we should buy the warehouse like we talked about.”
“With what money, exactly?”
“Your money. I know, I know–”
“It’s not really my money, you know that right?”
“Well, he left everything to you so whose money could it be?”
“No, obviously, but it doesn’t necesarily feel right to spend it all on an abandonned building because you have a good idea.”
“I am not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. But think of what it could be: A place where artists come to create, where they can put on their own events, where we can host classes. Come on, it writes itself.”
“It’s not that easy. I have to make sure I’m using his money for the right thing. This feels like a lot of work.”
“Everything in this life is work. Look, I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you know me. I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I didn’t believe in it. And you have been floating since he died-”
“Am I not allowed to be sad?”
“Of course. Of course you are.”
Friday March 18, 2016 at Artstarts
from a Death, Sex and Money podcast
I’ve been making a movie and it’s about my green bike, Gloria, and all the places Gloria ends up even though it might not always seem likely that she can get there. It’s a thoughtful piece meant to comment on the system of transportation and the moon and how the two are actually lovers. So far the feedback about my project has included statements such as “what is this film really about?”, “what exactly are you trying to say here?”, “is there a story at any point that we might be introduced to?”, and “I love the name Gloria!” I am preparing to submit this feature length movie to many festivals in the circuit. I am very positive about what’s to come.
Thursday March 17, 2016
from a program
There’s a group of people protesting outside my window. I saw one of their signs and it said “equal rights for all” and that’s how I know this country is going to shit. I’m being very serious. What’s a poet supposed to do with equal rights? I’m pretty sure that’s not how art is made and I can say that because my sister’s ex boyfriend was one of them and all his creation revolved around the worst feelings and circumstances in the world. I think these conditions exist so writers have something to write about about and painters have something to paint. Look at the statistics! Love isn’t going to get “bums in the seats” and valuing a system where hippies just hang out at the beach all day banging on drums and talking about their spirit animals is just going to create more bonfires on beaches!
Thursday January 28, 2016
A Mission Kitsilano business card
There’s a few of us who meet at dusk and always on Sundays. Meredith came up with the idea but had no real concept of how important it would become. None of us did. She came to me with the thought of gathering, combining energies, uniting, and giving offerings. Meredith thought it would be a nice gesture if she danced while I offered my singing to the powers that be; to the earth; to the sky. The others started joining us, Reemah with her prayers and Tilda with her tears. Our ceremonies last for sometimes 90 minutes. There is a lot of openness and engaging that none of us get elsewhere. The group is especially honouring of my offering and sometimes ask me to sing three or four times. I am good at creating safety with my voice: acting as an umbrella energy for all of our gifts to come together underneath and feel at home.
Wednesday May 13, 2015 at Dark Horse
Heather Kirn Lanier
In the 1950’s the word was imagined. Created. Conjured up. It was used for a brief time to describe the feeling of having everything but still feeling so helplessly and problematically empty. It was a truthful word adopted by a lot of artists. They began to write songs about it, make plays about it, dream about it, live by it. The issue that arose was the word was being over-used and becoming too loved. Yes, the strain it had, the effect of identifying too closely with one word, caused artists and young people to connect so strongly to it that they stopped trying to end the initial suffering of it. They began to accept it as it was, without the need to change it in any way.
Thursday February 12, 2015 at Great Dane Coffee
a storefront window on Dupont St.
Michael died on Tuesday
I only met him once
Two summers ago
Walking across Langavin Bridge
Still thinking about his performance
His spooked character
Abducted by aliens
I can’t shake the sadness
A coal of grief in my throat
I keep re-reading the article
in the Globe and Mail
A strange comfort in the facts
A pile-up on the Saskatchewan highway
A snow storm
A car with three others
Artists and activists
All of them killed
The coffee bubbles on the stove
The trees are starting to blossom
All across the country
Other coals of grief burn
A crow calls
Hello friends of these five minutes!
We are pleased to announce that we will be hosting a Writer’s Workout on Sunday August 25, 2013 as a part of The Toronto Urban Artist’s Retreat.
We will lead the group through a series of timed writing exercises, using our “dips” as well as other various prompts.
TUA is going to be an amazing day filled with writing, yoga, meditation, and inspiration.
Click the above link for more information, and please don’t hesitate to share this event with those that may be interested.
We hope you will be joining us!
-Sasha and Julia