April 16, 2013 § Leave a comment
“Constipation was one of the things she hated most in the world, on par with despicable men who commit domestic violence and narrow-minded religious fundamentalists.”
– 1Q84, Haruki Murakami
November 8, 2012 § Leave a comment
“You’ve got to market yourself now. It’s hard to have your fumbling experimental thoughts, your vulnerable thoughts, your half-formed inconclusive ideas, but they’re vital. It’s vital to stay with it. Keep something really important to yourself to develop slowly and don’t be afraid of your vulnerability. That’s your creativity. Know that it’s right. Know that’s the way.”
November 1, 2012 § Leave a comment
I always take the time every Wednesday to sit next to Erril, speak a little slower and crack a little joke with her. She’s a jokester, that one, and as absent-minded as they come.
Today I complimented her green cross necklace.
‘It’s from my husband.’
‘What is it made out of?’
‘Oh from China?’
‘No… he got it from Canada, when he went on a… what do you call it? Business trip. (pause) He wrote a lot of letters to me that trip.’
‘How long was he there for?’
‘And he wrote letters to you everyday?’
‘No, not everyday. But there were quite a lot of letters…. I should probably find them and have a read.’ She fingers her necklace. ‘We almost moved there, you know. He told me they offered him a job there. But it was a demotion or something, so he didn’t take it. Sometimes I wonder how it would be like if we did move to Canada, will the kids still know French?’
For four years, they lived in a university town called Pau in France, in 1975 or so, when one of her child was 6 years old. I remember Megan commenting on how Erril must have been a stunner back in August when I started. I don’t know why I keep referring to that memory – I’m not entirely sure if she was speaking about Erril, but I almost want it to be, as much as I hate beauty being the defining point of a woman.
Before she left for the day, she asked me, ‘How much longer are you here for?’
‘Umm, till five o’clock.’
‘Oh no, I meant…’
‘Oh, till December. Mid-December.’
‘Oh that’s nice. That’s still a while. (pause) I’ll miss you when you leave.’
And I’ll miss her the most when I’m gone, I think. I sat in front of her silently today while she spoke, suddenly wishing I could be a part of her life when I’m not here anymore, wondering if I could photograph her, wanting to remember her in print and in my own way. It’s the little interactions that make me happy these days.
October 30, 2012 § Leave a comment
How do we sit here and continually consume? There must be a desire to make and create