Tag: vancouver

a satisfying week

Bill Murray has been crashing parties and hanging out with strangers.
(It could happen to you.)

Across the buildings, a slight gap in the clouds. Keith looks out and says, “oh look, a nice day.” A shift in the sky and the blue goes away. Weather whispering gray. Today it snowed briefly in a winter half effort. White flakes, fat with promise, that melted as soon as they touched ground. Now, as before, it is raining.

I’m glad my week has been wonderful enough to make up for the weather. I cried upon waking my first day back from California, mutely, pained, unhappy. “What’s wrong, what is it?” A thousand things, a hundred disappointments, ten I could say aloud, but only one to share, “There’s no sky.”

Tuesday: Finally seeing Cory McAbee‘s The American Astronaut on the big screen was absolutely fabulous. Officially Duncan was hosting it, but my involvement (with That Mike) brought me to the front of the room, answering questions as I sat beside him, swinging my legs under the table that only came up to his knees.

Wednesday: Amanda Palmer‘s show with Zoë Keating and the Australian theater company The Danger Ensemble was outrageously Off The Hook. It’s an expression I sometimes hate, but I can’t think of anything more apt. Zoë Keating was exactly as mind-bendingly glorious as expected, but Amanda Palmer raucously surprised me. Her humour and spark and pure scintillating shine blew juicy, delicious bubbles of overwhelming near-religious delight into every nook and cranny of my brain. Just like everyone else at that show, I think I now love her. It was also a great time to play catch up, as people I love were in attendance I haven’t seen in absolutely forever, like Dragos and Tall-Travis. (Also, Kyle, I said Hello for you. She was thrilled.)

Thursday: As a fluke, while waiting to get in to see Zoë & Amanda Palmer, Andrew Brechin gave David and I a free voucher to Waltz With Bashir, a strong, very personal animated documentary into the horrors of the 1982 Lebanon war. Telling the story of the 1982 Sabra-Shatila massacre of Palestinian refugees through the director’s own reclaimed memories, it was educational without preaching, and painful without guilt. At first I was skeptical of the animation style, which reminded me too strongly of old cut scenes and on-line java cartoons, but the story pulled us in, and the animation smoothed as the film continued, leaving us rapt as it drew to a close.

Tonight: There’s a Tom Waits Tribute Night at Cafe Deux Soleils from 8:30 – midnight. “a line up of the who’s who in east vancouver gather together to sing the songs of one of the most influential artists around. his world of strange wit and hard luck characters has made a home in each of our hearts. come out dressed in black, red and your fancy feel ready to sing along and stomp the floor silly.” Featuring: Blackberry Wood, Tarran the Tailor, my sweet and charming friend Jess Hill, our very own RC Weslowski, CJ Leon, Christie Rose, Chelsea Johnson of the Foxy House which hosted my birthday, Corbin Murdoch, Jeff Andrew, Buffaloswans, Maria in the Shower, Fraser Mclean, Christa Couture, Nick Lakowski, Sarah Macdougal, Pawnshop Diamond, Katie Go Go, and Mike the Swan.

Tomorrow: Our all day, all night non-denominational, costumes optional, holiday social and house party to celebrate David moving in, with crepes in the morning, tea in the afternoon, and candle-lit silent black and white horror films until dawn. (In regards to BYO: Bring your own syrup, eggs, fruit, or toppings, bring tea, cookies, or pie, bring flowers, feathers, or figs, whatever you feel appropriate, but most importantly, bring yourself.) Extra guests welcome within moderation

Bonus: Amanda playing Radiohead’s Creep on the ukulele for Kyle and Neil at the Cloud Club.

We who are about to sqelch vapidly through squamous tunes where no sanity remains salute you!

Cthulhupalooza, Saturday December 6, the Rio Theatre in Vancouver BC Canada.
Facebook event link

A pulpy, tentacled, and maddening Lovecraft Rockband fundraiser hosted by two brilliant yet malignant modern men of science, my friends Toren and Jay, with partial proceeds to Child’s Play charity, Cthulhupalooza features:

  • A very special performance by the Lovecraftian rock band The Darkest of the Hillside Thickets.
  • A Rock Band Competition with prizes from many sponsors including Harmonix and Jones Soda, as well as a chance to sing the exclusive Rock Band track “Shhh….” with The Darkest of the Hillside Thickets.
  • A screening of the silent film adaptation of the classic weird tale “The Call of Cthulhu” as produced by the HP Lovecraft Historical Society, along with other short films to be announced!

    $16 tickets for Cthulhupalooza are now available in Vancouver at: The Rio Theatre, Red Cat Records, Zulu Records, Scratch Records, Scrape Records, Neptoon Records, RX Comics, Elfsar Collection, Strategies Games, High Life, Pulp Fiction.

    Also – starting right now and valid until 11:59pm on Wednesday November 26th, Toren’s offering an unlucky $13 ticket price for Cthulhupalooza if you order through PayPal. PayPal to thickets@uniserve.com with your name and preferred contact info (this can be email or phone) and a ticket will be held for you at the Rio Theatre until you arrive!

    If you haven’t picked up your tickets yet, you should act fast, as they’re going quick! And remember, DON’T FORGET to register your band by emailing cthulhupalooza@gmail.com

    Cthulhupalooza.com!

    • fricking frack: things I hate to miss more than

    It’s that time of year again…

    12th Annual Eastside Culture Crawl
    November 21, 22, & 23
    The 2008 Crawl map.

    FRIDAY November 21st 5:00pm – 10:00pm
    SATURDAY November 22nd 11:00am – 6:00pm
    SUNDAY November 23rd 11:00am – 6:00pm

    The Eastside Culture Crawl is a free, annual 3-day arts festival that involves artists opening their doors to let the public tramp through their creative studio-spaces, (and sometimes homes), to exhibit work for sale.

    “Painters, jewelers, sculptors, furniture makers, musicians, weavers, potters, writers, printmakers, photographers, glassblowers; from emerging artists to those of international fame… these are just a sampling of the exciting talents featured during this unique chance to meet local artists in their studios.

    Purchase something that strikes your fancy, commission something to be uniquely yours, or just browse through the studios and meet the artists, learning about their specific works of art, materials and tools, approaches and techniques. This is a once a year opportunity to meet many diversely talented artists and view their creations in the studios where they work. Be part of this exciting event, which brings people from all over the Lower Mainland, and share in the imaginations that enrich our neighbourhood and lives.”

    Last year Dillon and I went to a bit of it, and it was absolutely spectacular. Almost endlessly fascinating, as every room contained an entirely new collection of art. 1000 Parker St., especially, as it has the highest concentration of artists. (Though there seems to be more paintings of crows at 1000 Parker St. than there are actual crows in a fifteen mile radius of the building itself. Go figure.) Thankfully few studios were devoted to watercolour trees or flowers, instead it was a little like coming home, exploring every room as new, colour-spattered, welcoming universe. Last year there were over 300 artists showing. This year there’s going to be more.

    It’s one of the few Vancouver events I consider unmissable, which is why it’s killing me a little that I’m not going to be in town while it’s happening. Instead I’m going to be in Seattle, and then hopefully on a plane, making my way South, towards Lung and the Salton Sea, the ecological disaster desert west outside of L.A. Take pictures, everyone. Attend, discover, and explore.

    I want to talk to someone like me again

    Every time I listen to Let The Devil In, from the TV On The Radio album Return to Cookie Mountain, I’m inspired to track down a bunch of musicians, get them drunk, and have a giant sing-along house party. I blame Naysayer.

    Also, does anyone have Talvin Singh’s Heavy Rotation Radio Refixx remix of OK?

    Tales of The Unexpected: a Roald Dahl inspired Tim Walker fashion editorial featuring, among others, Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter.

    The weather today is a slow molasses jazz of rain and cold wind, but last night was gloriously different. The skies were profoundly open, a bit of silk fluttering dark black and blue pinned in place with a bright, round, almost full moon. My mother and I took a night ride on her motorcycle, enjoying the last drop out of her last day with insurance, out to the store, the long way around. Five layers of clothing against the cold, three jackets, stockings, tights, black leather gloves, my matching black helmet. I’m still not used to how small she is against me on the bike in the same way I’m not used to how big her newest bike is. There’s nothing like realizing you’ve grown bigger than a parent to remind yourself of mortality.

    Riding out into the night, we flew downtown, soared across the Burrard St Bridge, and out to UBC, to circle around and come back along Spanish Banks, the most splendid view to be found in Vancouver. The glut of ugly picket-fence condo development that’s been climbing up the mountains is transformed into a skein of tangerine gemstone glitter at night, tiger striped black by the remaining runnels of nature that drip from the tops of the peaks all the way down to the ocean. Downtown becomes a dream of skyline, a precious, tiny thing floating on water, but like it’s in the sky, held up by a willing suspension of disbelief. Everything that wasn’t lit up didn’t exist. I felt like we were something new, my mother and I, connected better than we have been, the city blocked out by the motorbike, separated from our weekends and bleak days. As if to prove my fresh perspective, or to reward the moment with permanent memory, I looked up over her head at just the right time to see an airplane perfectly silhouetted as it flew over the moon.

    I’m going closing night

    Some friends of ours are starring in Spectral Theater’s new play, The Velvet Edge. (Read: Duncan Shields and Erin Puckey).

    Held at The Chapel, 304 Dunlevy, the same funeral-home-now-arts-venue that the Carnival of the Arts was just at, it’s got a cast of nearly twenty, the guarantee of at least one flawlessly hot girl, Naomi’s costumes are without-fail incredible, and there’s both nudity and blood. How awesome is that?

    “An English novelist comes to an asylum to hear the story of one inmate who, after a journey into the decadent heart of 18th century France, was charged with the murder of his wife, but committed due to his presumed insanity. As the inmate recounts his bizarre and terrifying descent into debauchery and madness, the audience is drawn into the scenes of his past. Could his delusions be in fact, a terrifying reality?”

    Tickets are $20, which is steep, I know, but Duncan, who is in it and should know, claims, “This is going to be an adult theater show at adult theater prices. This isn’t schlocky horror. It cost a lot to put on and it’s a visual spectacle. It’s worth every penny of the $20. People are going to be talking about this one for a while.”

    November 5th – 6th & 8th – 15th

    Tickets $20 (minimum donation)

    Doors at 7:30 PM Show at 8:00 PM

    Written by Blake Drezet and Directed by Des Hussey & Blake Drezet

    Warning: Coarse language, scenes of violence, suggestive scenes and nudity.

    Reserve your tickets by calling 604.569.2013, e-mailing info@spectraltheatre.com or RSVP through Facebook: Nov. 5th Opening Night, Nov 6th, Nov 8th, Nov 9th, Nov 10th, Nov 11th, Nov 12th, Nov 13th, Nov 14th, Nov 15th.

    some known attendees: andrew, sara, me, david, mike levens, mike elliott, beth, ed, ryan


    Amanda Palmer
    Amanda Palmer and Zoë Keating play Vancouver

    Wednesday, Dec 10
    8:00pm – 11:30pm
    Richards On Richards
    (1036 Richards Street)
    Tickets available through Ticketmaster and Zulu Records for $12 +tax.



    Zoë Keating

    it takes one to know one

    bOINGbOING: Tales from the Underground Economy

    Stayed up late last night talking to a friend down by Savannah. Once I found where he was on Google maps, the soft hint of an accent he’s always had clicked perfectly into place. Deepest, darkest Georgia. I don’t know very much about it, past what I’ve read in books like Midnight In The Garden Of Good and Evil, but the little red arrow put him directly in the middle of pretty much nothing. Marloe. There was a named road nearby. A road. Singular. One.

    I was worried when he went, moving from Seattle, a reasonably sized city, to the far out edge, vaguely near only a college town, even though he’s a perfectly capable human being. He seems to be finding his niche down there, though. Staying with family, driving the long drive into town once a week. I don’t know how he does it. When he went into the DMV to renew his license, he asked where the nearest cash machine was. They told him, down the street, right at the next lights, left at the next street, there’s a place right there. Which sound like reasonable direction until you discover that those lights were two miles away.

    I can’t even imagine. I rely on being in a city. Every time I lived somewhere isolated, by distance, time, and/or money, I cracked around the edges. Depression set in, and endless baking. (Beware if I’m ever making continual batches of cookies. It’s my cry for help.) Getting out was like taking a breath, as monumental as the discovery of a new continent. Moving back to Vancouver saved me every time, though at least one relationship didn’t survive. I didn’t feel alive when I was trapped, or sane or healthy or reasonable. My entire world had become the two rooms I lived in, became my perpetual anger at escapism, became awful and vapid and hell.

    Funny, going to bed considering that, when my recent trip back east has left me feeling saved again, but this time from Vancouver.

    Los Angeles bans new fast food restaurants in low-income and minority neighborhoods.

    in other news

  • Making Canned Halloween Monstrosities

    The Here Be Monsters Carnival of the Arts is on again.

    David and I took Nicole and volunteered at the opening night cabaret at the Chapel, the re-purposed funeral home down behind the Princess Hotel. (A skeezy neighborhood, but venues are venues and you work with what you’ve got.) We had a surprising amount of fun for standing at a door and collecting loose change from people. The show was good, if a bit bizarre, the art had enough hits to make up for the misses, and I reconnected with Ashley, someone I liked seeing every week when I worked at the Dance Center. I’m looking forward to going back on Wednesday, Thursday and maybe Friday for the Showoff Festival, their “lite” version of Theater Under the Gun. (Tenth anniversary, no less, how time flies.)

    Would anyone else like to come? It’s free if you volunteer.

  • Making Monstrous Paper-Mache Pumpkins