Sunday, September 25, 2016
Like José Martí in Cuba, Kelowna's Father Pandosy is everywhere. He is the name behind Pandosy Street and Pandosy Village, of course, but his presence is also felt in the city's architecture and, as you can see above, in its statuary.
Father Pandosy is known as Kelowna's "first settler." He arrived in the area in 1859 and built a mission that, whether in name or in aesthetic, influenced a number of area structures, from shopping malls to condos.
Obviously there is more to Father Pandosy than my gloss above (for example, he is described as being "as much a farmer as he was a priest"), but I will leave it at that before speaking further on someone whose presence belongs more to those whose came here than to those who have always been here.
José Martí is revered in Cuba because he wrote poems and essays, lectured, took up arms and died in the liberation of his country from Spain. If I were to speculate on an indigenous perspective on Father Pandosy, I might think of him as closer to Spain than to Cuba.
*photo atop this post taken from The Daily Courier
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Across Lakeshore Road just north of Boyce-Gyro is a small house with features that belong to a time long before this house was built, a time when Kelowna's public roads were lined with orchards, many of which were razed after the Second World War and turned into motels and trailer parks, which in turn were razed in the 1980s when private developers, backed by Ontario and Alberta money, turned those lands into shopping malls, like those on the Harvey Avenue stretch of Highway 97.
But this won't happen on Lakeshore, nor will it happen on the former CP Rail lands that run from Marpole to Granville Island in Vancouver, what some still refer to as the Arbutus Corridor. People with money have to live somewhere, and in Kelowna, they live on Lakeshore.
Friday, September 23, 2016
Thursday, September 22, 2016
On Tuesday morning I awoke to UBC Okanagan Faculty of Creative and Critical Studies professor Nancy Holmes speaking on CBC radio about the Regional District of the Central Okanagan's recent decision to terminate the contracts of the seven on-site resident caretakers who live and work in seven of the RDCO's parks. On Wednesday morning I awoke to one of those caretakers, Lori Mairs, talking on that same program about the work she does in addition to locking and unlocking the gate and making sure the trails are free of coffee cups and gum wrappers.
Lori spoke of sitting outside the caretaker's house at Woodhaven one afternoon talking to a student about a bear she had seen hanging around -- and how it might present a problem to visitors -- when a man and his young daughter started up the path with a picnic basket. No sooner did Lori tell the man to return whatever food he was carrying to his car because there is a bear in the area, when a bear reared up behind a bush, his nose twitching.
When the person interviewing Lori played a clip from an earlier interview with RDCO's Bruce Smith, where Smith told listeners how an off-site security presence would be augmented by park neighbours "keeping an eye out," my mind raced. In one direction I saw a bear chasing a terrified man and his daughter down a forest path; in another, a group of neighbours huddled together on a front lawn feeling guilty for not warning a young family of a hungry -- and desperate -- bear.
But what bothers me most about the RDCO's decision is the loss of embodied knowledge -- information held and distributed by those who have committed themselves to the reception and understanding of life forces common to conservancies like Woodhaven. And please, don't tell me this is a budgetary decision -- not when the Central Okanagan is among the fastest growing regions in the country and whose tax revenues have grown accordingly. No, decisions like this one have more to do with the elimination of alternative ways of life and learning by those motivated not by profits, as we often accuse private developers of, but by bonuses given to public sector workers for whom "saving" money is making money. A neoliberal instance of language making the land safe for those who rip it off.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Jesse Marketing Systems is circulating Royal College of Art-style advice -- for free. Young Curators, please note that Jesse, too, is a Young Curator, and will remain so if he continues to emphasize his received experiences over his lived ones.
Content that is singularly produced -- also known as own content or Mine! -- is Roark and rarely the result of critical conversation. Like gold bullion, it is a hedge against the fluctuations of self-reflection. To say that a ladder is part of your psychic workspace, and that your workspace smokestacks industry, is also backwards. Scrap it!
As for voice, employ different voices, just as you would different materials for different jobs. As for living well above (and below) the poverty line, read Hamsun’s Hunger and get back to me, for I too am an established institution, an example of the pitfalls of traction as stance.
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
Sometimes a picture arrives and you recognize yourself but have no idea when and where the picture was taken.
There are clues, like who sent it, who is cc'ed...
I still have that blue shirt, though a grease stain on the left breast makes it unwearable. I would have added it too my work clothes -- my gardening clothes -- but it is not that kind of shirt.
The person who sent me this picture is
(The picture was taken at a Van Dusen Gardens plant sale in Vancouver between 2003-2006.)
That's it. That's all I know.