if . . .

... just finished reading Jacob Wren “ Authenticity is a Feeling ” on the plane to Seoul ... in fact read the entire book on airplanes ... what sticks the most is the passage describing going to a round dance: “ ... that this was what I’d always been looking for in art. The way everyone could participate or not participate, how the dancing and singing and drumming was just going on in and around us, part of daily life, and at the same time we were all always part of it. (Well… I wasn’t but everyone else seemed to be.) Since, of course, this wasn’t only or even mainly art, it was culture in a larger sense. ... I couldn’t help but think: wasn’t this related to what I’ve always been working on. A performative feeling of community where the performers were no different from the audience, where everyone knew the rules yet engaged with them in some way where the rules barely seemed to matter at all. I was of course watching all of this as an outsider and a settler. I had no idea what ...

… the last days at cite internationale universitaire de Paris  ... in the first floor apartment at Pavillion Victor Lyon  were bliss … the fever from the travels passed, strength slowly returned, pressures of the year evaporated and sleep returned … a peaceful dreamless sleep … the sense of disheveled and somewhat unpleasantness of June dispersed  …  morning strolls, afternoon siestas and night walks shaped the days …  … the weather was miraculous … perhaps a bit warm but the heat proved soothing … the bio-diversity of the surrounding park, the sky full of birds I could only guess as to their nature ... the gentle breeze ... were a cure for all ills … even getting caught in a sudden thunderstorm one evening proved refreshing ... the walk after the rain along a street of gardens was intoxicating ... the perfume of flowers and vegetables filled the air ... … the multitude of cultural residences never ceased to surprise with nooks of fantastical scu...

… after a delayed flight we arrived back from Casablanca late running to catch the last bus … made it … exhausted we went right to bed … well not exactly both of us …  i spent time cleaning off Ae’s table cluttered with conference material, programs, essays and various notes so we would have a place to eat in the morning ... emptied my luggage tossing most in the laundry hoping to get a start on that tomorrow ... looking at the desk I finally gave up … that required a major effort  …  Ae was sick the last two days of the FITUC Festival … she had gone to bed and stirred fitfully moaning the entire night … … eventually crawled underneath the crisp, clean white sheets aware of the beginning sore throat/fever/nasal congestion plaguing Ae was nibbling at me … dreamt … woke up at 5:44 am … the room was stifling hot … couldn’t move … every fibre of my body ached … it was as if each and every muscle had contracted … stared into the darkness terrified...

Asian Centre UBC ... sitting in a room for ten hours listening to a series of lectures in a language i don't understand nor speak & unable to communicate with half of the participants is a powerful experience ... AeRan delievered a two day seminar at the Asian Centre @ UBC ...  an absoulutely beautiful setting ... i knew her material well being the topic of her Phd. thesis which has occupied the past six years & ... i have followed her many conference presentations ...  in fact, we were returning to the site of one of her first presentations ... ... it was a truly remarkable performance ... the electricity of her presence as she delievered was at times overwhelming ... the scope and range were both vast and distinctly detailed ... the conversation elicited was "wild" (the term she used) ... the eager attention whether youthful scholars in the midst of their training or those seasoned academics from visiting scholars to professors and experts from various d...

... the past two months have seen me watching opera on two continents ... both far from the source of their original cultural origin ... Wagner's Götterdämmerung performed by the Canadian Opera Company at The Four Seasons Centre  for the Performing Arts in Toronto & La Traviata  performed by the Korean-Russia Opera at the Sejong Center  in Seoul  ... ... not really an innocent bystander ... daughter played Gutrune/Third Norn in Götterdämmerung & wife co-directed La Traviata ... ... I have been waiting to share the experience of watching Ileana ... Act III, Gutrune awaits Seigfried's return ... the stage is bare, only a dim twilight glow in the distant background ... a solitary figure, Gutrune, stands downstage right ... the epic music has stilled to a whisper ... into the hush, Ileana reaches out delicately ... she takes hold of the entire space sending us into that unforgettable place ... waiting for a lover ... a longing in all its forms ... a d...

Rain & alchemy. On the seventh day it rained all day. All day the water washed the collective mind we inhabit. A chair & a mirror were assembled & the space creaked a little more open as a blind, bowl & sheet shone. Simple utilitarian items that together make living less harsh. The day before we had traced a path to Choisy-le-Roi where hung from an enormous ivy entwined tree two aluminum sculptured pieces by Louise Bourgeois . At first they resembled beehives but on closer examination were two bodies wrapped around each other. Or were they mouths being gagged? Named " The Welcome " they identified the newly married, especially emigrants from all around the world: "... are you welcome. Or are you foreigners we want to get rid of? " The streets were relatively empty and plums fell from sidewalk trees. In the evening a huge embrace from Robert Bresson's nephew followed by beer & cheese and talk ranging from renowned French geog...

Summer afternoon by the Siene. Once you've seen Cezanne apples you can't look at apples the same way again. Really? She tells me she doesn't have a plan. There is worry on her face and she jokingly corrects herself. When you walk the streets of an old world city do you feel the ghosts of history oppressing the space within? Why do we want to capture ourselves in the picture of Notre Dame? A child plays the Play Me I'm Yours piano in Hopital Hotel Dieu as we seek solace from the unknowable. Bandages and silent corridors of people murmuring in black provide relief. But when the sky opens on the Pont au Change bridge the Seine flows through the radiance of the panorama of the city with it's golden domes and white stone walls and the talk on the spirit of place, how objects or closed spaces contain the past, dissolves. How deep is the Siene? Pass the backside where you dare not walk at night trying to identify the year of the blue doored building, its splen...

Viewing Monet's Nymphéas series at the The Musée de l'Orangerie , In the Tuileries gardens, Paris is a deep meditation of a sustained practice on the presence of light ... ... the Water Lilies panels change moment by moment under the natural light filtering in through the daylight sky ... the serene movement of the eight curved walls (Morning, The Clouds, Green Reflections, Morning with Willows & four others) within the two white elliptical rooms is broken only by the awkward jerky humans walking through the Gallery ... an education of the eye ... Look to where the light reflects. Look with peripheral vision. Move slowly & enter the color. Be still & breathe with every movement. Adjust the gaze & release. When you are empty smile. :: Note :: ... we immerse ourselves for two hours bathing in the "decompression space" ...