tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2853925036752622672024-03-19T01:47:23.678-07:00websitevery log's been slept onMichael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.comBlogger5080125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-13423398892198495882023-12-18T07:54:00.000-08:002023-12-21T08:08:42.874-08:00@mtwebsit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QowOpsD62kwkTHfNJfUytKI9NI10N7WZYBpcvcBt4eYxSOGwmaGcBMmxBvWW1c2d8HPA8yRf1dyiqQgYO2vCWQ_qAzmoS4hJyF7BTcMLOe5idR7BS6iGsTwoUjSEJCrZ-1oF3QVI764Rbpx-t46w-rGve8DVw8qqg4mhkrbOB4Gl5DU-hBmo8sAVS9c/s1246/4-pack.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="1246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4QowOpsD62kwkTHfNJfUytKI9NI10N7WZYBpcvcBt4eYxSOGwmaGcBMmxBvWW1c2d8HPA8yRf1dyiqQgYO2vCWQ_qAzmoS4hJyF7BTcMLOe5idR7BS6iGsTwoUjSEJCrZ-1oF3QVI764Rbpx-t46w-rGve8DVw8qqg4mhkrbOB4Gl5DU-hBmo8sAVS9c/s320/4-pack.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>Did I mention I'm spending more time on Instagram? I am. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/mtwebsit/?next=%2Frudymarquez%2Ffeed%2F&hl=id">@mtwebsit</a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgabV5SdiH0sULe_wQUXwEbYJnIAfVlWIfIJh5EQr9jOd6h7fwf0KNij6x1qi6IFLuWlO8O82vSa8dPMvlz_4wzFnhU8SSiUcvz68TW_pN1NqXKoNC6tLWCcR92VAmj1kB8VNe56OGSHlSxTFqlvq7AEn4PZkm3-guosB1vlygzaKqdcxfqSWiayd03zc/s1250/4-pack%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="1244" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgabV5SdiH0sULe_wQUXwEbYJnIAfVlWIfIJh5EQr9jOd6h7fwf0KNij6x1qi6IFLuWlO8O82vSa8dPMvlz_4wzFnhU8SSiUcvz68TW_pN1NqXKoNC6tLWCcR92VAmj1kB8VNe56OGSHlSxTFqlvq7AEn4PZkm3-guosB1vlygzaKqdcxfqSWiayd03zc/s320/4-pack%202.png" width="318" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-71322678474410260852023-12-17T08:37:00.000-08:002023-12-18T07:41:34.542-08:00Hardt Times<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLAYO-rHvk1PIKZo6Z9lUI6t4CWRIu7R3D0KYp10PeRsQEzppSdp89K7RjSGJTfdb6aRD8m7l5z2tATgYuz8-UehxhDKQE8Wp263o6pwFWGMD0YKZrwp76udYkGnZV-QyorZ30B9BL1pjNZoYUZ0e_4Rr51dEwKwYSw-qHbRhbyh4tcDDw4Ah4QihMXg/s640/Hardt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLAYO-rHvk1PIKZo6Z9lUI6t4CWRIu7R3D0KYp10PeRsQEzppSdp89K7RjSGJTfdb6aRD8m7l5z2tATgYuz8-UehxhDKQE8Wp263o6pwFWGMD0YKZrwp76udYkGnZV-QyorZ30B9BL1pjNZoYUZ0e_4Rr51dEwKwYSw-qHbRhbyh4tcDDw4Ah4QihMXg/s320/Hardt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>A good turn-out at Michael Hardt, et al.'s talk and panel at SFU yesterday afternoon, the morning after Hardt's longtime collaborator Antonio Negri passed away. I had read his and Negri's<i> <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2001/jul/15/globalisation.businessandmedia">Empire</a></i><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2001/jul/15/globalisation.businessandmedia"> </a>(2000) when it came out, and it was one of those books that many of us reached for again after the events of 9/11, in the way that many of us do when we think it was in <i>Empire</i> that we first heard that something like that is possible.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-58234965660379428582023-12-16T06:30:00.000-08:002023-12-16T07:32:26.803-08:00Warehouse Wall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUasF0f5LwcJO11eHgt_OwZelQT4MoipUguUfhzFpDIGLlIHQIbF0XqULFCgI24tRZNDDt37jicKCOwTTxDldsbn17uVoJacr4W757h882Jx_aRHrpxaxbaFOTOKOrliORlauLbEYH26O_QM5eDO37SBS-hGIzBP7o878MPZkDTfMAZGq14Bk0RZ4hv9w/s640/False%20Creek%20Flats%20Warehouse%20b&w.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUasF0f5LwcJO11eHgt_OwZelQT4MoipUguUfhzFpDIGLlIHQIbF0XqULFCgI24tRZNDDt37jicKCOwTTxDldsbn17uVoJacr4W757h882Jx_aRHrpxaxbaFOTOKOrliORlauLbEYH26O_QM5eDO37SBS-hGIzBP7o878MPZkDTfMAZGq14Bk0RZ4hv9w/s320/False%20Creek%20Flats%20Warehouse%20b&w.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Walking east on East 1st Avenue, past Main, a long wall, and a few panels in, evidence of the Vancouver Mural Infestival. But the wall itself -- its materials, its design. It's enough that it's a wall and not a support for more visual information. Why can't we leave it at that, allow our eyes a rest? Allow our ears and nose to occupy us?</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-44531602094771045052023-12-15T08:44:00.000-08:002023-12-15T08:46:31.704-08:00The False Creek Flats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXOE39EcnPxN8gugi24cWAzxmQJXdxt3Hi5vYQLBa6k1BiEV5hKZxnTT_Fm_Wvjp3ymL0_JVzDk142Q39T6S-OahJPA6DLoYHTpNYRobBoQ7jufoWrkhQnoYHMDYVTRPf65RVYzzXHzqLEr38jUppw1nYMyOX5Fga7ZxxYog3iBG-qDHnx7noBHoxFFU/s640/Near%20Bernadette's.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEXOE39EcnPxN8gugi24cWAzxmQJXdxt3Hi5vYQLBa6k1BiEV5hKZxnTT_Fm_Wvjp3ymL0_JVzDk142Q39T6S-OahJPA6DLoYHTpNYRobBoQ7jufoWrkhQnoYHMDYVTRPf65RVYzzXHzqLEr38jUppw1nYMyOX5Fga7ZxxYog3iBG-qDHnx7noBHoxFFU/s320/Near%20Bernadette's.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>A picture taken on my way to a studio visit. I knew the picture would look better in black and white, but there is no Black and White setting on my device, only related options, which led me to choose Noir because it offered the highest contrast. I was hoping the photo would capture some of that <a href="https://fraenkelgallery.com/artists/lee-friedlander">Lee Friedlander</a> energy, but all I got was a whisper of Laurence Oliver introducing another episode of <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0b4g4ZZNC1E&t=2s">The World at War</a> </i>(1973).</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-57653829152625321432023-12-14T09:33:00.000-08:002023-12-14T09:33:02.602-08:00Woke Up It Was a Chelsea Tower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK1yeUobS34mkraopFNrpjqNlmtHePmMsgvXs8wnaIGXO_lDOqlArKdZhbv3px3A1y2_q-NT9V35sAmFZPPZwFv41izFdw5LrAxar7mI0nchJYcrNDb6MUXO6cLf3o-CFRIpYO9WbXzIMtWl4rBDb_EBjXWQakAbO51Oc1KAdJlz9xEAFVl1vrk9o0Uc/s640/Chelsea%20Tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmK1yeUobS34mkraopFNrpjqNlmtHePmMsgvXs8wnaIGXO_lDOqlArKdZhbv3px3A1y2_q-NT9V35sAmFZPPZwFv41izFdw5LrAxar7mI0nchJYcrNDb6MUXO6cLf3o-CFRIpYO9WbXzIMtWl4rBDb_EBjXWQakAbO51Oc1KAdJlz9xEAFVl1vrk9o0Uc/s320/Chelsea%20Tower.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The Chelsea Tower on 6th Avenue just east of Main. Not sure when the ribbed concrete look came about (early 1970s?), but I like it.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-66700221605271084932023-12-13T07:48:00.000-08:002023-12-13T07:49:07.678-08:00The Art of Darkness<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNzNRSQcm-L1Uxz_fa7ELHrGS_H_EIvHwDF_yLTiwufhI4wmOUhNPuoIPt0sthtxXp5UfAfS9DyhCvgOAS7PDOLa9IDnPikKy46CZ53NmC8o1UUEqLriMsnxutdBM3vrFZqLtJUwG6sIRXOhpPzwEvmjqcVlHh-btoo7E8v8-QXraq3uphb3mW4KDyrc/s902/HoD.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="902" data-original-width="552" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNzNRSQcm-L1Uxz_fa7ELHrGS_H_EIvHwDF_yLTiwufhI4wmOUhNPuoIPt0sthtxXp5UfAfS9DyhCvgOAS7PDOLa9IDnPikKy46CZ53NmC8o1UUEqLriMsnxutdBM3vrFZqLtJUwG6sIRXOhpPzwEvmjqcVlHh-btoo7E8v8-QXraq3uphb3mW4KDyrc/s320/HoD.png" width="196" /></a><br /><br /></p><p>Rereading Joseph Conrad's <i>Heart of Darkness</i> (1902), with special attention to the section that begins with Marlowe travelling to France to interview for a job as a steamer captain, then south for miles and miles and miles to the "Big River," which we all know is The Congo.</p><p>This is nice:</p><p>"Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma. There it is before you -- smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering, Come and find out."</p><p>And the line that follows -- typical of the Eurowestern gaze (my italics):</p><p>"This one was almost <i>featureless</i>, as if still <i>in the making</i>, with an aspect of <i>monotonous</i> grimness."</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-45732521615772847462023-12-12T06:57:00.000-08:002023-12-12T16:49:57.533-08:00A Received Face Fits Its Gifted Nose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-o9eByUHoeRQHrTOHsrh63ePKS-wF3xyUk05R2xKjJIWXf10aVSIGYhWfos2iQXYVV8lZIjCMyoZ2x2RuvGn2GGZk3i3054MlA7TxWV-B6t1Id1e62uIScZ5puf6ylhQuoIeZLSgWavJEeD_fJwMOKU6kcoV0-ee4S6kk_xvZoat-rd-va7Kwvjv2x70/s640/Graffiti.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-o9eByUHoeRQHrTOHsrh63ePKS-wF3xyUk05R2xKjJIWXf10aVSIGYhWfos2iQXYVV8lZIjCMyoZ2x2RuvGn2GGZk3i3054MlA7TxWV-B6t1Id1e62uIScZ5puf6ylhQuoIeZLSgWavJEeD_fJwMOKU6kcoV0-ee4S6kk_xvZoat-rd-va7Kwvjv2x70/s320/Graffiti.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Walking home after a studio visit yesterday I noticed another example of the Vancouver Mural Infestivalization, this time along 1st Avenue. Only what's this? An intervention? A received face fits its gifted nose!</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-70516691152128909742023-12-11T10:23:00.000-08:002023-12-12T12:37:38.208-08:00Two Books<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk7jhroby_nAphYOo7gRvpGKw5_nRl7DDnTDJm159Ux8uEAiiEJ6SlLn6LEgSMyQR41XBxNSvlgqjafhOw0PDy0m7LV8RHTLPlJKMdZe0yxfIndTXd67JROoPN27irE6yBrvJV1ghUezJMZtv3AqTHVpmZAtXSj87dyLkZT4aT3wSXpXekl7BqD0o-r0/s640/MA%20MG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwk7jhroby_nAphYOo7gRvpGKw5_nRl7DDnTDJm159Ux8uEAiiEJ6SlLn6LEgSMyQR41XBxNSvlgqjafhOw0PDy0m7LV8RHTLPlJKMdZe0yxfIndTXd67JROoPN27irE6yBrvJV1ghUezJMZtv3AqTHVpmZAtXSj87dyLkZT4aT3wSXpXekl7BqD0o-r0/s320/MA%20MG.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I was fortunate to get the last copy of <a href="http://www.themaruaponte.com">Maru Aponte</a>'s artist book <i>Palm Readings</i> at the <a href="https://www.griffinartprojects.ca/combine">Combine Art Fair </a>this weekend. Something about the cover reminded me of another book cover, not so much what is pictured on that other cover, but the colours they shared and the middle presence of a yellow circle. That "other" book is an old favourite of mine: <a href="https://www.vancouverartinthesixties.com/people/31">Maxine Gadd</a>'s <i>Lost Language: Selected Poems</i> (Toronto: Coach House Press, 1982).</div></div><p></p><p></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-29116034182768196032023-12-10T08:19:00.000-08:002023-12-10T08:19:23.295-08:00A Poem by Robyn Schelenz from Touch the Donkey #39<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpkwVFQYwKAgcFlVuYOcCnoRMxZkjktxsbnBHtg56COSAIzn62l1fDN36gXWsCnC-JpYOZKuAZujHB8K2fYZez_SOX_wKeuSvRDeZ4S3t60OTq2s4jK0jqmELK3AibxuL0bFOwR1soQegLJlSjLDCK-TN95sYZDxEGAfg1gcyKgPASOF8tYKseH-JqfE/s640/TtD%20thirty-nine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXpkwVFQYwKAgcFlVuYOcCnoRMxZkjktxsbnBHtg56COSAIzn62l1fDN36gXWsCnC-JpYOZKuAZujHB8K2fYZez_SOX_wKeuSvRDeZ4S3t60OTq2s4jK0jqmELK3AibxuL0bFOwR1soQegLJlSjLDCK-TN95sYZDxEGAfg1gcyKgPASOF8tYKseH-JqfE/s320/TtD%20thirty-nine.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>WILDLIFE</p>Animals move in the trees<br />I don't know<div>Which trees</div><div>Or which animals</div><div>We trundle on</div><div>I laugh and say</div><div>Trees are better</div><div>Than a groundful</div><div>Of snakes</div><div>No the guide says</div><div>Snakes leap</div><div>From the trees</div><div>Oh I say</div><div>I wish my whole body</div><div>Was a shoe</div><div><br /></div>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-67769367610796196392023-12-09T18:44:00.000-08:002023-12-09T18:45:10.934-08:00Maru Aponte<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjtZEoQ6LahYF9g7Y7hFVdNytetfHcw7jsBHFMZc4wbkp25LlnL6c9jSStKw58V2RykRLEut_AF3Tl-XgsmlmcbQBvmiWMdCj4Ozdeb9nRCRwDOAVW38MAvs74B8XR2W3TGQ96y_iajKarOc1VgN0dSwOs1UjjQbTAB0Q8xiShVARpRdNZM4qoq4CDpA/s640/Combine%20.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvjtZEoQ6LahYF9g7Y7hFVdNytetfHcw7jsBHFMZc4wbkp25LlnL6c9jSStKw58V2RykRLEut_AF3Tl-XgsmlmcbQBvmiWMdCj4Ozdeb9nRCRwDOAVW38MAvs74B8XR2W3TGQ96y_iajKarOc1VgN0dSwOs1UjjQbTAB0Q8xiShVARpRdNZM4qoq4CDpA/s320/Combine%20.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><a href="https://www.instagram.com/combineartfair/?hl=en">Combine</a> mounted its third art fair at Griffin Art Projects this weekend, with participation from seven galleries this year, including the Griffin.</p><p>Pale Fire Projects contributed work from two artists, one of whom, a newer artist, is <a href="http://www.themaruaponte.com">Maru Aponte</a>, who lives between Vancouver and her native Puerto Rico.</p><p>Up top is one of Aponte's smaller en plein air paintings. At bottom, a limited edition artist book, of which there were fifty, and now there are none.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJjXz0qUvLJtrFfBo0WAvZnai3HT5cmjM5ues5qbKfr67uF5eU6crw_qkTyGkCZODYW_PSdkSu4FJiAqK1KJCq9Fsu_NQNAj1iMAGlyIUdalxw786dC3VU9pz0YZ3ZOb0KcJyvAwFxcpVB8E7WgW8JCdXpZ29REtyEN0VIbEZ4dC70e8y0cfpfNAHTg0/s640/Combine%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvJjXz0qUvLJtrFfBo0WAvZnai3HT5cmjM5ues5qbKfr67uF5eU6crw_qkTyGkCZODYW_PSdkSu4FJiAqK1KJCq9Fsu_NQNAj1iMAGlyIUdalxw786dC3VU9pz0YZ3ZOb0KcJyvAwFxcpVB8E7WgW8JCdXpZ29REtyEN0VIbEZ4dC70e8y0cfpfNAHTg0/s320/Combine%202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-3839834784206029862023-12-08T07:54:00.000-08:002023-12-08T07:54:00.841-08:00Mountain View<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzxzHBs8yYSgFbkK4o42zsYgKS83uW7_y_RwmNwGyQbaxmobfKbYi5E5W0Y9tH16hhCHiiV8kj_QwAWoG1LVz5hYe5JQRCWK3MWLMtJv2i68tlB6H73R2sScWRhrnYgf63glnBOclkX8nRpp6DBJz_FGVe3QYPjaDFgJXLlgpSJYrJxyx4YEmkqM0wc8/s725/Main%20St.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="725" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQzxzHBs8yYSgFbkK4o42zsYgKS83uW7_y_RwmNwGyQbaxmobfKbYi5E5W0Y9tH16hhCHiiV8kj_QwAWoG1LVz5hYe5JQRCWK3MWLMtJv2i68tlB6H73R2sScWRhrnYgf63glnBOclkX8nRpp6DBJz_FGVe3QYPjaDFgJXLlgpSJYrJxyx4YEmkqM0wc8/s320/Main%20St.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>A picture taken at Main and 27th, looking north, 4pm. The clouds that brought rains these past couple days had lifted -- just in time for sunset. I love how the winter mountains look. Sunset's pink icing.</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-50328179360461705762023-12-07T08:12:00.000-08:002023-12-07T08:38:33.318-08:00Fiddlehead Farm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qD5LVwWBcwVOPTngPfZxBC3IWELuMomF4VqUAC54bLRkRACgUI7V159PVzKXRQrx4XDcCjgiJfL4TmQVALevLPo_m26yawVi1F0_EqEUFNBfrx8GguKj2BXEsv9zvRH4tfB6Ww2j4LF_AMw5P_-GLOVZ9KyoNeT17O9kkQ3IDE9mGgZU6BJauvlc8SI/s560/Schreiber%20Total%20Ed%20Farm%201970s.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="560" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qD5LVwWBcwVOPTngPfZxBC3IWELuMomF4VqUAC54bLRkRACgUI7V159PVzKXRQrx4XDcCjgiJfL4TmQVALevLPo_m26yawVi1F0_EqEUFNBfrx8GguKj2BXEsv9zvRH4tfB6Ww2j4LF_AMw5P_-GLOVZ9KyoNeT17O9kkQ3IDE9mGgZU6BJauvlc8SI/s320/Schreiber%20Total%20Ed%20Farm%201970s.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>The Schreiber Farm in the 1970s, when it was a teaching medium for students of Total Education, a Vancouver-based alternative school. This is the same Powell Lake farm that <i>Eden Express</i> (1975) author Mark Vonnegut and his Swathmore pals purchased from the children of the Gagliardi Farm (1914-1968) in the late-1960s and, in the 1980s, was renamed <a href="https://issuu.com/powellriverliving/docs/2205_may_2022/43">Fiddlehead Farm</a> by Linda Schreiber. The site became a hostel after the Schreibers moved on. In 2002 it was sold and logged.</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-41838231330737762023-12-06T07:53:00.000-08:002023-12-06T07:54:27.411-08:00Urban Landscapes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4VZL46cLXysy_wsmJsKNwNzZaPKM2cPwZSFSboJPn-HtyeEmEnImNKn5QgIF6v_H_hX8a5mmX0J0ySQ2BtOv7lj2yeafDEYLM2xU1FMyzCI7H46e9jaaCGrKM01VYkRqhH4S3C553ji2DH8gYJ-GxCwqV6MKEbWEn_2A0DkJyQO20wYN0J7YTtmrV3k/s2584/San%20Francisco.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="2584" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4VZL46cLXysy_wsmJsKNwNzZaPKM2cPwZSFSboJPn-HtyeEmEnImNKn5QgIF6v_H_hX8a5mmX0J0ySQ2BtOv7lj2yeafDEYLM2xU1FMyzCI7H46e9jaaCGrKM01VYkRqhH4S3C553ji2DH8gYJ-GxCwqV6MKEbWEn_2A0DkJyQO20wYN0J7YTtmrV3k/s320/San%20Francisco.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>Windows to past landscapes can be found in the strangest places. The above is a section of a frame taken from a 1977 American film dubbed in German and renamed <i>Die Hasen von San Francisco</i>. What attracted me to this frame were the two cars in the intersection: the economical (German-made) Volkswagen and the gas-guzzling (American-made) Cadillac(?). But what stays with me is the sky. All North American west coast cities have their own version of the sky. They even write songs about them. Like <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2PyGdzmLfQ">this one,</a> about Seattle.</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-2451153648528702512023-12-04T06:07:00.000-08:002023-12-05T08:06:56.332-08:00Howdy Partner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdmTTyq26sXqBfnhtr2m-d8ujKXiJVQHVD-Ci6vaBX9oswo1cgQoC55ksHCsOIbd_x6PMsB_WBH25MaKABo4zMZnjx-BNDCAEAeHYENWlDVjyN5tZVhA2HWzQXQX7EXfwf1yG4w7HmfZCrU2l0BER7dwCPgvJszSLzTU6_hOro0vemcKqlSwIQFFF6-k/s1512/516%20Alexander.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdmTTyq26sXqBfnhtr2m-d8ujKXiJVQHVD-Ci6vaBX9oswo1cgQoC55ksHCsOIbd_x6PMsB_WBH25MaKABo4zMZnjx-BNDCAEAeHYENWlDVjyN5tZVhA2HWzQXQX7EXfwf1yG4w7HmfZCrU2l0BER7dwCPgvJszSLzTU6_hOro0vemcKqlSwIQFFF6-k/s320/516%20Alexander.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Such a rich red. And all these signs to look at. A painting of an Indigenous man from the neck up, a story of drawings between him and the door. Who's behind this invitation to "partner up"? </p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-84128167273769194142023-12-03T17:54:00.000-08:002023-12-03T17:54:36.522-08:00Demystify Chinatown<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JfRTJNJng7wUYROhVwq2DOt_ON4v2Wc8uZl6Mko0jLak6yzXeXL4gUqs_ujpp8scdRNGYo57wZLkHsNAP4LtuaOnN_74lZDVmQsu-Ck11erG5cuUk-SW54_h9IQTQevaq9gRlYDVz2cAmkMKFGTANFEwtA4hl_4ulr9yesJJ6kOcxiVaid6VXyRqiBM/s771/Chinatown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="771" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5JfRTJNJng7wUYROhVwq2DOt_ON4v2Wc8uZl6Mko0jLak6yzXeXL4gUqs_ujpp8scdRNGYo57wZLkHsNAP4LtuaOnN_74lZDVmQsu-Ck11erG5cuUk-SW54_h9IQTQevaq9gRlYDVz2cAmkMKFGTANFEwtA4hl_4ulr9yesJJ6kOcxiVaid6VXyRqiBM/s320/Chinatown.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Banners are usually there to promote tourism, or a sense of place. These are different. As citizens we are asked to participate in the relaxation of what we think we know. Chinatown is not what we think it is. But what is it? And what does it want to be?</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-51369639300504570082023-12-02T07:51:00.000-08:002023-12-02T08:39:56.912-08:00Pour Lore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo89HOJaub5nftERBKYRR8wf14IyvZDVslLveM1sVAEUWVr5D3wtgNxAUegQHkNhCBfLZOCDVxO0_XO_SJafTNrjtyxllk5EB9oyRj2S2zp3knB_6Fd5e3PCPXjzBG5ZZCr0cUwiJdh81-_QEZ2Tx8szxQ54sxqldn818Z7ib3b9VdD169aN-J9oqZcLU/s1308/Pour%20Lore.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="1308" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo89HOJaub5nftERBKYRR8wf14IyvZDVslLveM1sVAEUWVr5D3wtgNxAUegQHkNhCBfLZOCDVxO0_XO_SJafTNrjtyxllk5EB9oyRj2S2zp3knB_6Fd5e3PCPXjzBG5ZZCr0cUwiJdh81-_QEZ2Tx8szxQ54sxqldn818Z7ib3b9VdD169aN-J9oqZcLU/s320/Pour%20Lore.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>Time is slippery. The best measure of time is the optical lattice clock, a faceless monstrosity that is useless to anyone who doesn't know how to use it. An archive is another kind of clock, though less precise, given that microseconds aren't important in the overall scheme of things.</p><p>Up top is a grab from when I Googled "glue pour." Note the disparity in the date of Robert Smithson's <i>Glue Pour</i>. Marian Goodman, one of the world's leading modern/contemporary art gallerists, lists the <i>Glue Pour</i> performance (document) as 1970, when the person who took the picture (Christos Dikeakos) says it happened in 1969. Who do we believe? Ah, it's the 21st century, so they're both right.</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-83246611481363393202023-12-01T06:40:00.000-08:002023-12-01T06:40:01.588-08:00Pandora's Locks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36xjlRu44C7cIt1oTwh1aTOZ7hDOef-oJ0bjoGznjcIOlxwMMFCAhmM28rK3dOdRGiFvD8mz8Z8cy4-sIIfEafX9ZU4CKSFS_HNeqsZd0_V0moJQ_bKLVxsi3UKg0DvnITD53fyV72VjWUBL1TvDe0YcIF33wamUVjZdr3yo2nlWNaXMO7yf2dzIPNRo/s640/New%20West%20shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36xjlRu44C7cIt1oTwh1aTOZ7hDOef-oJ0bjoGznjcIOlxwMMFCAhmM28rK3dOdRGiFvD8mz8Z8cy4-sIIfEafX9ZU4CKSFS_HNeqsZd0_V0moJQ_bKLVxsi3UKg0DvnITD53fyV72VjWUBL1TvDe0YcIF33wamUVjZdr3yo2nlWNaXMO7yf2dzIPNRo/s320/New%20West%20shop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Pandora's Locks feels like where New West's British store was located. If so, it's hard to imagine a locked room adventure in its place.</p><p>The British store was small and narrow. Seems these locked room games require a succession of spaces? I can't imagine it otherwise. Just thinking about it is giving me claustrophobia. </p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-26254247014383475962023-11-30T06:46:00.000-08:002023-11-30T06:46:27.150-08:00"... the exploitation of the elegiac ..."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-LNio6GaSADI5lxiEJJijSmIglnNUTy2K4ZnpiyqhIGuSJ_YM9jtrSqekej1eQg6TjrRQzcbOiLJDEzBZ3s0ar88_gboXi_LH41QPBBx3vOFKIYM1_wbE_MAkmGWEbb-FMmQuIumlcupEN8jwR41n1QOrqKAWuNF-_mXX0N3DHXFlZPJJ6S0kQcRSE4/s640/Edith%20Sitwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-LNio6GaSADI5lxiEJJijSmIglnNUTy2K4ZnpiyqhIGuSJ_YM9jtrSqekej1eQg6TjrRQzcbOiLJDEzBZ3s0ar88_gboXi_LH41QPBBx3vOFKIYM1_wbE_MAkmGWEbb-FMmQuIumlcupEN8jwR41n1QOrqKAWuNF-_mXX0N3DHXFlZPJJ6S0kQcRSE4/s320/Edith%20Sitwell.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>"One of the most interesting things about <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edith-sitwell">Edith Sitwell</a>'s art is the way in which all aspects of it seem to be present at every stage of her development, while at each stage one particular aspect becomes dominant. At the next stage, in the <i>The Sleeping Beauty</i> (1924), she turned away from satirical inventions of <i>Façade</i>, and devoted herself to the exploitation of the elegiac, romantic vein which she had already begun to work in <i>Bucolic Comedies</i>. The contrast at first sight between the world of Don Pasquito and Mr Belaker, 'the allegro, negro cocktail-shaker,' and <i>The Soldan's Song</i>, with its Elizabethan and Keatsian echoes, could scarcely be sharper ..." (19)</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-2968206938392612232023-11-29T05:50:00.000-08:002023-11-29T05:50:52.106-08:00Tipperary Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-02HvnAi3PUogx-g8K6_VuJ1MW3jlpuGmUMTHc3xK05Ns7zRBNdDSRYXS8E4on3l8cPZ2YchObumj4KnAWVshWrRtLElM3tnG7UMpeHTaHKUURm2xwuDggSjK5NOkLwSvbZjRhhVmWziWT87L_auatvINU-tbYARpC9YCzopqQHIXeKbXsqkf9Dzoes/s640/Tipperary%20Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-02HvnAi3PUogx-g8K6_VuJ1MW3jlpuGmUMTHc3xK05Ns7zRBNdDSRYXS8E4on3l8cPZ2YchObumj4KnAWVshWrRtLElM3tnG7UMpeHTaHKUURm2xwuDggSjK5NOkLwSvbZjRhhVmWziWT87L_auatvINU-tbYARpC9YCzopqQHIXeKbXsqkf9Dzoes/s320/Tipperary%20Park.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Yesterday's trip to New Westminster. Fog only added to Columbia Street's ghost town vibe.</p><p>I climbed 4th Street, stopping at <a href="https://www.newwestcity.ca/database/files/library/Tipperary_Park_History.pdf">Tipperary Park</a> because of the care taken to design it. The picture I am posting here is a "better" one of the same setting I posted on the Instagram account.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-1597014755783061602023-11-28T07:35:00.000-08:002023-11-28T07:35:50.158-08:00Sunnyside Park<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fKttt-7D2y_rq1FWFItPA2GzDihY3cZ5zw-LlNzjAdzs52zMX_cwY7HmfVsXIotK4fP77wU8TZCtGvX6r7P-RHyvZ4DB3w65PCEeJvbmiTsxlh5r9Z3-4X4f2FPX0FujzPCZC-BLj-VfKnnR-2MDM5pkOD9HpnG50tefKACegCOfVcHPTd1QzggB2VU/s640/Sunnyside%20Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fKttt-7D2y_rq1FWFItPA2GzDihY3cZ5zw-LlNzjAdzs52zMX_cwY7HmfVsXIotK4fP77wU8TZCtGvX6r7P-RHyvZ4DB3w65PCEeJvbmiTsxlh5r9Z3-4X4f2FPX0FujzPCZC-BLj-VfKnnR-2MDM5pkOD9HpnG50tefKACegCOfVcHPTd1QzggB2VU/s320/Sunnyside%20Park.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I'm never sure if this is an ash or an elm. Maybe it's neither, but I'd like to know one way or the other. </p><p>Tomorrow I'll write a letter to the City, asking that a legend be posted, with info on these trees. There are so many different kinds. It seems intentional. Let's carry intention to its logical conclusion.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-54911022917176208062023-11-27T10:04:00.000-08:002023-11-27T10:05:34.652-08:00"... hard work and first class ethics ..."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25_r6Rx_tJpCf6JHjGxfRTMfwcwd5wY-L4-KwNzsATlwSnUuWu5tVlEtdsRdoh_M-EbLA4NIhtjYueMeOcMoJvG6qxLJG4tHBQzbbprmBAf40vQplrH0S_WJ22AxEN_PKaQoAPVAewk0hPZ1mnSLfPQaRPPF-3z9qDXd4qpNGbXcS1GFQTdQ2Z2pmaj8/s640/Fidelito%20Trudeau.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25_r6Rx_tJpCf6JHjGxfRTMfwcwd5wY-L4-KwNzsATlwSnUuWu5tVlEtdsRdoh_M-EbLA4NIhtjYueMeOcMoJvG6qxLJG4tHBQzbbprmBAf40vQplrH0S_WJ22AxEN_PKaQoAPVAewk0hPZ1mnSLfPQaRPPF-3z9qDXd4qpNGbXcS1GFQTdQ2Z2pmaj8/s320/Fidelito%20Trudeau.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>It's not the insistence that Justin Trudeau is the biological son of Fidel Castro that bothers me but the belief that the biological son of a revolutionary socialist dictator is a revolutionary socialist dictator himself, which, as we know, is difficult when you're working within a bought-off liberal democracy like Canada. Also bothersome, the parenthetic annotation beside Justin's mother Margaret that reads: "(Known to have been unfaithful to Pierre Trudeau)." Women tend to be considered "unfaithful" by those in support of a patriarchy, liberated by those who aren't.</p><p>The shop where this letter-sized pamphlet hangs is the <a href="https://www.yelp.ca/biz/north-shore-pawn-shop-north-vancouver">North Shore Pawn Shop</a> on Lonsdale, near First. Here is the shop in its own words:</p><div class="section-heading__09f24__F0gJv css-1qn0b6x" style="border: 0px rgb(235, 235, 235); font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size-adjust: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 12px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><h5 class="css-agyoef" style="border: 0px; color: #2d2e2f; font-family: Poppins, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size-adjust: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; letter-spacing: -0.2px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; word-break: break-word;">History</h5></div><p class="css-11k8aw1" style="border: 0px; color: #2d2e2f; font-family: "Open Sans", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size-adjust: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px 0px 16px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Established in 2000.</p><p class="css-11k8aw1" style="border: 0px; color: #2d2e2f; font-family: "Open Sans", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-feature-settings: inherit; font-kerning: inherit; font-optical-sizing: inherit; font-size-adjust: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-alternates: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; font-variant-position: inherit; font-variation-settings: inherit; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px 0px 16px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The North Shore Pawn Shop first opened its doors in April 2000, a small business in a heritage building on 1st Street and Lonsdale Avenue in North Vancouver, BC. The area was perfect for a fun shop filled with lots of trinkets and great deals, and it slowly grew into a wonderful addition to the community. Over the years, hard work and first class ethics began to pay off as the little shop began to grow in popularity as a great place to find a little bit of everything!</p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-56795759355757599842023-11-26T09:15:00.000-08:002023-11-26T09:15:33.538-08:00Fog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1xnTVKCfJLHDgUjjP7_j4Hk0xDCO7hJ3rt6U3WrpcfZpWm-9c6F9pO_EBoyBHCVzYoSmZ6nJIGxYwZGIEDEYdfQ6UmybjvQo25yM8yIlFT5J38KkLVGXiE765-823vKmYiMY5gAeRUjORxVWh24y4e3GDYkQb_e7Mcv4ABTeituIx9A9zBJVajvo0xM/s640/Fog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1xnTVKCfJLHDgUjjP7_j4Hk0xDCO7hJ3rt6U3WrpcfZpWm-9c6F9pO_EBoyBHCVzYoSmZ6nJIGxYwZGIEDEYdfQ6UmybjvQo25yM8yIlFT5J38KkLVGXiE765-823vKmYiMY5gAeRUjORxVWh24y4e3GDYkQb_e7Mcv4ABTeituIx9A9zBJVajvo0xM/s320/Fog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I love the fog. I love it for what it is, and that it will lift.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-76941507468840686292023-11-25T07:22:00.000-08:002023-11-25T07:36:05.966-08:00Kingsway & Clark<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7qRC9EH5s6_OvxPHW6xcXguCpDBvZikRzMbIrvKrEkKtLMZxfuD6eZB0dteMU5QxH8h4plqAZrl7GTmVZe4DblNL8xTMO407p3WwWLKOO0IkdjPST-jx4NGfMBy4sfxCnes42Tmx-GyLIHOpiQM0u1LtbyU2J591wwAtf5e10UYhDzIb4biI_qyzJHc/s640/Concrete%20pour.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7qRC9EH5s6_OvxPHW6xcXguCpDBvZikRzMbIrvKrEkKtLMZxfuD6eZB0dteMU5QxH8h4plqAZrl7GTmVZe4DblNL8xTMO407p3WwWLKOO0IkdjPST-jx4NGfMBy4sfxCnes42Tmx-GyLIHOpiQM0u1LtbyU2J591wwAtf5e10UYhDzIb4biI_qyzJHc/s320/Concrete%20pour.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The former Cedar Cottage Pub site at the NE corner of Kingsway and Clark. An odd lot because its southwest corner (from where I took the picture) is about fifty feet higher than its northeast corner. Either way, the project is at grade now. Another six (or is it eight?) storeys to go.</p><p>The green arm extending across the site is a concrete supply line. The vertical red form at the left edge of the picture is a crane. A shame to see all that beautifully arranged rebar covered, but at least we'll know it's there. Those standing where I was will be saying the same of Mt. Seymour soon, once that first floor is in place, though I'm happy for those who'll be moving in. Such a beautiful view of Mt. Seymour. And on the morning of the summer solstice, the sun rising behind it.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-2755747528218677342023-11-24T09:50:00.000-08:002023-11-24T09:50:12.044-08:00The Instagram Museum of Art<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cCHj6TeVkolRfCAQhUjzNcxAOb8cPbqkHUU_R0o2_YtdnRMTI36JZTp0TdhrmbjW08mftp1kXmZOLSaRK6Yv_sSf3T3qXShiugibLtv_C3YsOwuv3pVAEvpMvd5LMB5dxQb4YhCoDOSo6JGSC3ZcHgoptnvV4NIoUcgpb-2HA1shKT9PSvikYGUYQZs/s1166/Rolling%20Field.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1166" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8cCHj6TeVkolRfCAQhUjzNcxAOb8cPbqkHUU_R0o2_YtdnRMTI36JZTp0TdhrmbjW08mftp1kXmZOLSaRK6Yv_sSf3T3qXShiugibLtv_C3YsOwuv3pVAEvpMvd5LMB5dxQb4YhCoDOSo6JGSC3ZcHgoptnvV4NIoUcgpb-2HA1shKT9PSvikYGUYQZs/s320/Rolling%20Field.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>I love this reproduction of Sammi Lynch's pastel and oil bar on paper <i>Rolling Hills</i> (2022). I look at it at least once a day. The energy, the racing pull of its yellow field, held together by expanding harrows.</p><p>The painting came to me via @rossiter 's <a href="https://www.instagram.com/augustnoon__/">August Noon</a> account. From there, a visit to the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sammijlynch/?hl=en">Lynch's own account</a> and her exploration of the Munch palette.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-285392503675262267.post-20960444727300647152023-11-23T09:12:00.000-08:002023-11-23T09:12:08.752-08:00A Lane Just Off Commercial<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZS7QPJ7jdUyIMsZQHjTBqsxsSAbwYEtDuTBMXfSch9u8efWMjtHR7K-shYiMkIQ3CI71-jqiNMIRto9zuwebKPQNitEHzLDFNqZJ4UA5sNvpZRCBG0dlOkW_OhZaUB7FZHqt7scup3lzabTuTng7jL3wqZkARbwfnktzrtrmt1i-EM-e1XKwaC1gnJo/s640/Lane%20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioZS7QPJ7jdUyIMsZQHjTBqsxsSAbwYEtDuTBMXfSch9u8efWMjtHR7K-shYiMkIQ3CI71-jqiNMIRto9zuwebKPQNitEHzLDFNqZJ4UA5sNvpZRCBG0dlOkW_OhZaUB7FZHqt7scup3lzabTuTng7jL3wqZkARbwfnktzrtrmt1i-EM-e1XKwaC1gnJo/s320/Lane%20.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The easternmost end of the lane between East 10th and 11th, just before Commercial. Not sure what this wall and razor-wire is protecting, but there's a pawn shop on that block, and pawn shops are where the desperate exchange what is dear toward what is needed.</p><p><br /></p>Michael Turnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10501975929919211354noreply@blogger.com0