Mega Moon Adventures From a Lost Inlet

And so it was. The opportunity arose to have ourselves a little portage, and then witness the full moon rise whilst meandering about the ocean. Our vessel was a canoe, and our velocity was governed solely by our arms. After a rewarding portage, we boarded the nautical watercraft and broke away from the soupy saltwater inlet known as the Goose Spit. After testing the reliability of the canoe through an ancient and highly secretive set of orchestrated maneuvers, we pointed our bow towards the city of Vancouver. With Denman and Hornby Islands to our right, and Texada Island to our left, we positioned ourselves perfectly for an ocean view Jacques Cartier would have been envious of. As the moon's outer edge began to break through the rusty hue hanging over the great city of the Best Coast, we got our first glimpse of the Mega Moon. I was in absolute awe of the power of Earth's primary satellite, as its influence was all around us. From the steady rocking of the tide to the creatures taking advantage of the changing water levels, Mega Moon was a palpable force. With the moon now suspended above the smog by commanding cosmic forces, it finally revealed its true beauty. One could distinctly make out the lighter lunar highlands, and with even greater clarity, the darker lunar maria. Its cosmic reflection in the oceanic mirror before us stole our breath. Marvel and wonder were upon us, and we all appreciated the beauty with which only nature could produce. For us, Mega Moon provided an efficacious partner, and we were very humbled guests.

(forgive me)

Oh Internets... as I'm sure you have guessed by now, I have met someone else. That someone is life. I have however, come back, and I ask for your forgiveness. I'll try harder to stay committed, as I think the two of you can co-exist nicely. Let's move on together shall we? So it has been 12 months to the day since I arrived on planet Vancouver Island, and it continues to amaze me. Its roots are twisting and turning around my heart, and I can't imagine going to sleep without the ocean breeze or going on a fern-less walk through the woods. Every weekend something new is discovered - take the picture below for example. A random hike eventually led to an amazing waterfall with a few nice chaps serenading mother nature with their guitars. Edward Sharpe would be proud of those folks. I will be posting with greater frequency, so I hope you all stick with me for the ride.

Heavy

Idle No More, Occupy (insert your city), Arab Spring... what is happening here? Are these just the fashionable proclamations of a bored youth? Blind societies voicing discontent with their own life decisions? People frustrated by a poor economy? No, No, and wellll kinda. I think this last point starts to scratch the surface, but it is much deeper than that. These aren't uneducated movements, and they certainly aren't just gatherings of naive "commies and hippies." While at an Occupy rally last year, I was in a small discussion group with 2 university professors, a medical doctor, and a lawyer. This wasn't a gathering of nihilists, these were people genuinely concerned with the state of our communities. A look at what has been happening around the world hints at a common thread. The arteries of the world have just been given a shot of discourse-tinged adrenaline. A confidence is now running through the veins our world's inhabitants, and I like it. The courage to stand up for what you believe in is spreading quicker than skinny jeans. While we still sit with embarrassing voter apathy in North America (just over 60% voted Stevie Harps in), people are getting frustrated. Frustrated with inequality, environmental degradation, corporate hegemony, government dominance, lingering sexism in the workforce, so on and so forth. This is global angst. I don't have to agree with everything other members of a particular movement believe in, but it is an amazing thing to find common ground and stand together on united issues. The fact that apathy is being eroded is a great sign. I just hope this societal awakening can create enough of a seismic shift that it reaches everyone from safe suburban homes to decaying housing complexes. The question is... will it be enough? Here in Canada, we have Enbridge's push to dissect our surreal Great Bear Rain forest, a Conservative government hell-bent on crippling environmental protection for our lakes and lands, and the usual Corporate supremacy. There are only so many times you can steal cookies out of the cookie jar before it is empty. The oven is broken, no cookie dough is left in the kitchen, and we are going to have to go to our neighbor's house for supplies. But guess what? They are running low too, and they just upped their prices. Let's think of our next generations folks. Kid's kids and things like that. Ok, next blog to be lighter.

We barely made it

Phewph dudes, that was close. December the 20th saw me dance around falling frogs like Fred Astaire, evade locusts like Peter La Fleur from Dodgeball, and catch Ratfish out of an inflatable zodiac. I am definitely mixing up my prophesies a bit here, but it is inconsequential. Those calendar makers must really wish they didn't skip that calculus lesson on calendar cataclysms. Those 7/11 cream soda slushes were good, but now we don't even know when the big 'splosions gunna be. At least we can go back to looking to the heavens for aliens instead of ridiculous end of days delusions. This talk of cream soda has got me a little nostalgic. Remember the packs of hockey cards that contained that sacred single stick of bubble gum? The gum that you would eat even if the pack was a good decade plus old? You knew you shouldn't eat it - but seriously, how could you not? You would pop it in your mouth, and within 3 seconds it would just disintegrate into nothingness. This gum would break the first law of Thermodynamics every time - energy can neither be created nor destroyed. This stuff just vanished, and you didn't even get to swallow anything. I could go on all day talking about Dunk-a-roos, hockey cards in the bike spokes, Magic cards, etc. but I will stop here. I just wanted to express my relief that we all made it out of the rabbit hole in more or less one piece. Don't drink the Kool-Aid folks...it ain't natural and has a bad after taste.

Happy December 21st

It has been far too long friends. So what is new? Planning for the end of the world have you? Oh nooooo he didn't. Look folks, I think most of us know that December 21st isn't going to be some calendar-triggered wrath of the gods Armageddon thang. But you know what is scary? A lot of people are serious about this, and I just can't figure it out. We trust antibiotics and antiviral drugs based on observable evidence (and evolution), we trust the tides when we are boating or on a beach walkabout, and we certainly trust gravity when we must. This "trust" comes not from feelings, but rather from direct evidence. But when it comes to life/death, we often throw all logic out the window and trust some archaic fairy tale. Now don't get me wrong, there are amazing ancient achievements that we must appreciate. But that does not include slavery, racism, sexism, literal belief in outrageous myths, so on and so forth. So why believe this nonsense? No offense intended, but if you tell me that the Earth is flat I will say "no it is not." If you tell me the Sun and Planets revolve around the Earth I will say "Nope, wrong again." We have obvious evidence, and people have come to trust this (only after a long battle with logic, reason, and the sciences). We have come a long way earthlings. So why all the intellectual fuddy duddy surrounding matters such as the aforementioned? Do our brains have a propensity to make up stories when ideas become to complex or confusing? I personally trust the things I know - the look in my partner's eyes when we wake up together, the way a run in the wilderness takes me away, the happiness I get when visiting good friends and family, the way six strings sound around a campfire, and the way 90's punk rock still makes me feel. Perhaps we would all be a little more in touch with each other if we trusted that which is close. That which we can see, and that which we can measure. Why worry about the future? I don't profess to sit on some intellectual Percheron or mean to come across as though I have all the answers - I just think time spent building bomb shelters and buying plastic wrap for the windows might be better spent actually living. I dunno. Just spit-balling here folks. Call me a materialist, but I need science to guide my way. Give me some evidence, and I will take the bait. Give me definitive proof and I will scream from the tops of mountains. Give me a cup cake and I will eat it. Then go for a run. Then write a blog about it. Take care homies, keep it real. As a wise man once said "let's shoot for the moon - if we only get half way, it's better than workin' for the man."

Red Box

So I am reminded of this little trip I took to The National Art Gallery which is unsurprisingly located in Ottawa. I took my amazing class of grade 8's across the country, and this was one of the many stops on our journey. As we entered the gallery, the first thing to be noticed was space. And a lot of it. Groups of people were staring intently at splatters of paint on huge canvases. One canvas sort of reminded me of the last time my cat ate too many ferns and puked up gametophytes all over the carpet. The only difference was this masterpiece covered an entire wall. After studying my student's (justified) confusion over the intense attention paid by the gallery goers, and the increased security presence around us, I decided to take them exploring. To be truthful, with the amazing tradition of art in this country, I thought there just had to be something more thought provoking in this place. That, and I was pretty sure the secret service had already infiltrated my class. This small detail will make more sense in a little while. As we ventured upstairs, we were greeted with huge rooms containing very odd and confusing pieces of minimalist expression. A little red box, a row of bricks, and florescent lights in a corner were all that decorated a gymnasium-size room. Or there was the room with what looked like a pile of carpet strips randomly plopped down on a hardwood floor. As I walked out of these rooms something began to pull at me. "Why" was the question I kept asking myself aloud. Why does this little red box haunt my brain? The abstract nature and uncertainty in its meaning began to intrigue me. Maybe this is what art really is. Pure unfettered subjective interpretation. This was ambiguity at its absolute best. Perhaps the unknown is what is so interesting to our human minds. Sort of like looking up at the night sky and trying to picture the whole universe with all its possibilities. And that weird little feeling that comes with it. The famous "back-lit canopy with holes punched in it" so to speak. I think we could probably apply this abstract reasoning to any form of art, and perhaps this is why art is so universal. Anyways, as we walked further we saw more inspiring creations, some so complex it took an investment of time to make sense of the visual stimulation. It was also evident we were being watched from balconies, stairways, and every room we had just entered. I forgot to mention that it had become increasingly busy, with suits and gowns slowly invading the gallery. As I led my class to another room, a very concentrated crowd watched a jazz player tickle the ivories. This was a HUGE event. And we were unintentionally crashing it. Why we were even allowed to be in there blows my mind, but it was an amazing experience to be a part of. I gathered the class, and we piled on the big bus for our trip back to Kingston. As we sat listening to the radio on the drive home, the news added an interesting little tidbit. The art sales from the gallery we were just at had just broke a national record. Yes, you guessed it. We literally crashed a multi-million dollar art party. And it's all about that red box

Kathleen Edwards and ferries (the boat kind)

If you have not heard Kathleen Edwards, you should pause reading this for a second, and press play on this little gem. Let's backpedal a little bit here. I discovered her first record "Failer" in 2002 or early 2003, and since then, it has been the soundtrack to every emotion that I have ever felt. I have been lost in her songs on cold winter nights walking down freshly snow covered streets in Armstrong, at the top of breathtaking Alpine passes, running through old growth forests, and countless driving adventures - singing at the top of my lungs with my amazing partner. Being deeply connected to songs, and also sharing that connection with others can be the most powerful of emotions. I have many favorite artists, but her songs really get me. I have tried to see her live in concert many times over the years, and unexpected circumstances have somehow prevented this from happening. I have even had the tickets in my hands. Finally I got the chance to see her perform at the Squamish music fest, but I had a job interview far away… early the next morning. In the end, the songs called me. I took the ferry over from Vancouver Island to Squamish, stood and sang mesmerized for an hour, and then quickly caught the ferry back, arriving home at a decent 8:30pm. A quick blast for sure, but worth every minute. If I could write songs one hundredth as good as her, I'd die happy. Perhaps I will post some if I can ever get these new songs on tape. But that is a whole different blog. Later homies