Writing in circles.

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Lately that I’ve been often surprised by the decency of people. Which should really be the other way around. How cynical have I become that I’m shocked when another shows good sense, compassion, or understanding? (Of course, I’m never shocked when my friends do because they are all so friggin fabulous).

I have stayed away from writing about my week at the end of August where a bunch of things became really clear to me… and I’m not going to start now except to say that one of the things I realized is the need to reconstruct some of who I am around my next phase as opposed to who I used to be. And because I am intensely social, that involves other people. Thus, if I am going to really write, I need to find myself a circle of other writers with whom to hang once and awhile. A regular writer’s circle, perhaps.

In Victoria I have friends who seriously write or are immersed in books in a professional way, and have realized what a pleasure that is, to be able to talk about writing and art with other people invested in it. But since I’m not moving back anytime soon (sometime, but not for at least a couple of years), I’ve decided that I need to find my way into a circle here. First, because I need active critique on an ongoing basis if I am to keep improving my work. And second, because I would like to find myself reading publicly at some point in the not so distant future. I haven’t done that in over a decade (playing my own music live replaced that) and with a little feedback and tightening of my work I’m pretty sure I’ll be in a place of sharing again.

So I’m putting it out there. I want to find or form a writer’s circle in East Van. This is not the only way I’m going about it, but I might as well make my intentions clear since this blog is read by a diverse group of localites from what I can tell. Let me know by way of comment or email if you are at all interested, or know of something that already exists.

Reading.

“it is clear she… knew already the lovely contradictory nature of glass and she did not have to be told, on the day she saw the works at Darling Harbour, that glass is a thing in disguise, an actor, is not solid at all, but a liquid, that an old sheet of glass will not only take on a royal and purplish tinge but will reveal its true liquid nature by having grown fatter at the bottom and thinner at the top, and that even while it is as frail as the ice on a Parramatta puddle, it is stronger under compression than Sydney sandstone, that it is invisible, solid, in short, a joyous and paradoxical thing, as good a material as any to build a life from.”

Peter Carey, Oscar and Lucinda

Obligatory.

Now that I’ve got my camera back, I’m hoping to actually get some moments to take photos this weekend. And a bit of time for writing too. It’s just been one of those weeks where I haven’t had much time without lots to do.

I’m going to withhold writing in this space until I have something worthwhile to put here besides updates on how busy I am.

Figure this.

If I only told half the stories that have unfolded in the last five days in any detail then this would be a 3000 word post. But I’ve got a lot of work to do, so I’m sticking with a bullet-point update.

  • My trip to Ottawa was stressful. I had insomnia the whole time. I had one really rotten meeting and three decent ones, but the one bad meeting soured me on the whole trip. To make myself feel better I bought myself a new pair of jeans and a new pair of shoes before coming home.. oh, and a new book for the plane ride too. By the time I got home Friday night I was exhausted and pretty sure I wanted to quit my job.
  • The party on Saturday at my place was oodles of fun, despite the fact I woke up in a bad mood and was called by my mother just as it started to find out that my aunt died (more on that in the next bullet). Alison posted some photos on her Flickr account. There was an amazing amount of food, two barbeques going and even a cake from Fratellis! I love my Flying Folk brethren, I really do.
  • On Saturday my Aunt Yvonne died, my mother’s sister, though it wasn’t unexpected and quite frankly it touches me little except that for my mother it’s a mortality reminder. Speaking ill of the dead is wrong, so I’m going to leave my history with her alone. Suffice to say she was a British Israelite and a Holocaust denier. We didn’t get along much.
  • I also found out Saturday that I’ve been approved to visit Darren at Sheridan, so I’m planning to go visit him on the October long weekend. The visitor’s guidelines even say that we’re allowed to have two hugs during the visit… which would be the first time we’ve touched since July of 2005. Just writing that makes me tear-up. It seems so monumental. I’m sure even more so to him.
  • On Sunday I finally got to catch up with my mom by phone. We’ve been a little concerned about my dad in the last few months as he’s been showing some signs of early dementia – extreme anxiety, forgetfulness, an inability to grasp certain things going on around him. So my mother went with him to the doctor last week to find out exactly what was going on. Turns out that taking multiple Halcion every night for 25 years is not a good idea. No joke. My dad has taken Halcion to battle insomnia since I was a little kid. Over time they have lost effectiveness, and a few months ago his doctor suggested he get off them and put him on an anti-depressant instead. The anti-depressant didn’t work for my dad and had the side effect of making him super-anxious, which meant he couldn’t sleep, so he was still taking the Halcion as well. The whole set up majorly fucked up his ability to cope, and it wasn’t until my mother found exactly what was going on that they could make a plan of action about it. I am happy to say that my father is currently kicking his pill habit, and doesn’t have early dementia – just a really irresponsible medical system.
  • Yesterday I found out that I need approximately $2000 worth of dental work (of which I have to pay half on my plan), I started another French class, and a friend of mine offered me the very precious gift of travel companionship to Portland in October. Eventually I will write more about this offer, but only once I’ve got a little more perspective. Even though I’m sure I would be fine going on my own, having a co-pilot will sure make it easier on me. Plus, I am secretly afraid of entering a US federal pen, it will be good to have someone along to make sure I don’t chicken out.
  • Today I came to work to find an email from my Ottawa project manager telling me that my presentation was a success and the high-up boss wants to present my aquatic species database idea to the highest-up boss. Apparently they are all very proud of me but it makes me a little bit sick-nervous to think they expect me to come up with good ideas like this all the time now.
  • Oh. And I got my camera back from repair yesterday. Turned out it was the lens I hurt when I dropped it, not the camera body. Fixed on warranty thankfully and several weeks earlier than predicted.

Yeah. So that’s the “short” version of what’s going on in my life (and my head) this morning. No wonder I feel a bit tired I guess. It’s kindof a lot to absorb at once.