A small room above a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

Yesterday was warm enough to leave the window open. I had just poured myself a bowl of cereal when a bird flew in and stole a grain. I poured another bowl and left it on the sill.

When I returned I saw that the bowl had not been touched. I know this because I took a picture. After an hour of comparing, of turning the image this way and that, I was sure.

From the Floral Design Institute's web page:

Common Names: Billy Balls, Billy Buttons
Botanical Name: Craspedia, (crass-PEE-dee-a)
Availability: May through October
Vase Life: 10 to 12 days
Storage Temperature: 36 - 38 F
Ethylene Sensitive: No
Description: Firm, one inch, globe shaped flower heads at the end of long slender stems without foliage.
Colors: Yellow
Botanical Facts:
Design Notes: These unusual blossoms add wonderful texture and visual interest to floral designs.
Purchasing Hints: Purchase full colored heads that show no signs of shedding pollen.
Conditioning: Cut under water with a sharp knife. Hydrate in a solution of warm water and commercial floral preservative / floral food for two hours before storage or usage.
Additional Notes: These flowers dry well for use in permanent arrangements.

An overnight trip to Edmonton for the opening of Brian Jungen’s exhibition at the Alberta Art Gallery, and the “Alberta version” of Carapace (2009), a work first displayed at Pay de la Loire, France, and then at the Smithsonian's National Museum of the American Indian. For the AGA, Brian has reconfigured the piece, and my task, as a contributor to the publication, is to write on that configuration (Candice Hopkins will address the Loire and DC versions).

This was my first trip to Edmonton since the opening of the new gallery, a zinc-encrusted nugget where the old gallery once stood (at Winston Churchill Square). Unmistakably Gehryesque, the Randall Stout-designed structure is impressive, with high-ceilinged rooms geared at large-format works that would be impossible in the previous building. The justification for the new building, repeated like a mantra by those I spoke with, was to attract “international exhibitions,” like Jungen’s.

After checking-in (40 minutes, on account of 15,000 Christians in town for a conference), I purchased some flowers (lilies, billy balls and myrtle) at a nearby florist and made it to the gallery in time for the 5:30PM cocktail party/dinner upstairs. In attendance, Brian’s family and friends, as well as directors Wayne Baerwaldt (Illingworth-Kerr), Loring Randolph (Casey Kaplan Gallery) and Marc Mayer (National Gallery of Canada), the latter I had never met but had j’accused in an earlier post, a post that found its way into his Walrus Magazine profile, where he returned serve.

AGA director Gilles Hebert gave the opening address, followed by exhibition curator Catherine Crowston, who connected the dots for the local bourgeoisie; both were charming. More drinks, more food, before we decamped to a nearby pub for more drinks, more food, and some stimulating conversation, including a chat with Mayer, whose company I enjoyed. Later, on the way to the washroom, I broke up a fight between a blind-drunk older man and a twenty-something kid who was alleged to have “said something.” What that something was, no one knows -- save man who claims to have heard it.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

During a recent conversation with an artist in his seventies I was told of the importance of "the poets and the painters" in the early-1960s, and "Where are the poets and the painters today?" Of course there will always be emerging poets and painters, but maybe the space once occupied by poets and painters has been taken up by designers, something brought home during another recent conversation, this one with an instructor at one of our local universities, who said that the students with the "sharpest eyes and ears" are not in Visual Art but Design.

This morning I typed the words "designer statement" into Google's search engine and the first thing up was from missprime.com. What struck me hardest were the references (militaristic) and the language (entrepreneurial). Miss Prime is a cultural soldier of fortune (see below).

"As a graphic designer, I feel that I have become a rather clever concept promoter – possessing a skill quite similar to Obi-Wan’s Jedi mind trick: the power of mental and emotional provocation.

"Graphic Design is a field that is so perfectly subtle in achieving its goal; it often seduces its unsuspecting audience and holds them captive. I strive to achieve this subtleness and produce work that calmly sways my audience to enjoy or consider the concept I’m promoting. The means for achieving this goal vary, depending on how the message or concept is being delivered. My canvas takes many forms, paper, computer screen, clothing, etc., different media – different audiences. A graphic designer must always be able to mold their work for a variety of delivery methods, from the print to Web and beyond; and to anticipate how one’s audience will respond to the both the message and the method.

"Of course, it may not sound as easy as waving my hand and muttering a few words; but I’ve found sliding my mouse around and designing work in Illustrator or Photoshop to be just as effective. I don’t usually wear a long, brown cloak either (they’ve always made me look a bit bulgy in all of the wrong places) – but suit me up in with a cup of coffee and my iMac – and I’m ready to go.

"Graphic Design is my field – my place in the world, as it were – and I simply wouldn’t be happy if I weren’t looking at what cereal is using what font type – or getting a weird, little happy jolt at the prospect of staying up all night to work on a website for a client. I’m constantly on the lookout for new ideas, new strategies and more efficient ways of accomplishing my tasks – whether they be from magazines, websites, television, or simply from a random comment a friend makes. A career with endless opportunities and the chance to do something I enjoy – what more could I ask for?"

On February 24th I will be taking part in Volume 15 of Pecha Kucha Night at Vancouver’s Vogue Theatre [Note: I have since withdrawn my participation]. For those who don’t know what Pecha Kucha is (I didn’t), it began eight years ago in Tokyo, an occasion for young designers to meet and discuss their projects in a public setting, with each presentation involving 20 images shown for 20 seconds, each. The name Pecha Kucha is based on the sound it represents (onomatopoeia) – the Japanese word for “chit-chat”.

The Vancouver version, organized by Cause+Affect Design, is not limited to designers and includes “a range of practices, actions and ideas” (though in scanning past participants I have yet to find a dishwasher, a bus driver or a prison guard). Tickets (500 of which have been sold since this morning’s announcement) are $15 each and include admission to the Vancouver Art Gallery after party, where the Ken Lum and We: Vancouver exhibitions will be on display.

The theme of the 9th Annual Haiku Contest, sponsored by the University of Alabama Japan Program, was bridge (kakehashi). There were many winners. In the "Elementary School Category (Grades 1-3)" Birmingham's Margaret Raabe took 2nd Place for this:

I sit on the bridge
I like to eat on the bridge
I found a frog there