Treasure finds

Table cloth from Value Village $5.99 

French market basket $3.99 

Ballet Slipper from Sears $14.99

'70s

Arrived at New York in the 70s, not by Mayflower but Pan Am. Rudolf Nureyev at the Lincoln Cener, Van Morrison at the Village, Love Story at Radio City, Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge over Troubled Water all over town, and a bartenter/actor bought me a drink, a huge 1L size glass white wine.... It was the beginning of beautiful friendship with New York City.

Café Le Hibou

Café Le Hibou was an internationally known coffee house established in Ottawa, Canada, operating from 1960 to 1975. In the spring of 1975, Le Hibou closed its doors. A series of farewell concerts were held, featuring a week hosted by Bruce Cockburn with friends, and a week hosted by Sneezy Waters with friends. The last day, we bought home a table, a memorandum of a bygone era.

Forever Young, Bob!

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind...

It took a life time to learn that there's no answer in the wind.

Happy 70th Birthday, Bob!

Can art change our life? YES, YES, YES ..... YES.

Krzysztof Kieślowski  27 June 1941 – 13 March 1996 

Trois Couleurs: Bleu 

Trois Couleurs: Rouge 

The Double Life of Véronique

Art is a lie

We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth, at least the truth that is given to us to understand.

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
— Among School Children, W. B. Yeats

Dante's Inferno series — William Blake

 

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of slumber at the moment
In which I had abandoned the true way.
But after I had reached a mountain's foot,
At that point where the valley terminated,
Which had with consternation pierced my heart,
Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
Vested already with that planet's rays
Which leadeth others right by every road.

Whatever is moved must be moved by something else

1. Vancouver Public Library, 6th F. Classics and Fine Art Dept. 

2. Kaos 1984, by Pablo e Vittorio Taviani 

3. Luigi Pirandello 1867-1936, Nobel Prize in Literature 

4. Mozart, Cavatina, L'ho perduta from Nozze di Figaro

5. Sicily, Italy

Create something that time will not willingly let die — Milton's Formula

 

Padre Padrone 
A shepherd boy from the backwaters of Sardinia molds himself into a linguistic scholar.

Night of the Shooting Stars 
Set on the night of the Feast of St. Lawrence during the last days of World War II.

Kaos
 
Adapted five short stories by Luigi Pirandello to capture the beauty of Sicilian landscape.
— All by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani

In the primal sympathy

We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
—William Wordsworth

Poetry arrived

Poetry — Pablo Neruda 

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived 

in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where 

it came from, from winter or a river. 

I don't know how or when, 

no, they were not voices, they were not 

words, nor silence, 

but from a street I was summoned, 

from the branches of night, 

abruptly from the others, 

among violent fires or returning alone, 

there I was without a face 

and it touched me. 

Motherhood brings out the best of me

No, it's not in Montreal or New York City

Not in Canada, or US of A. It's only in Paris, yes, Paris. period. Some are born cultured. The rest just grab whatever come along...

Simply Live

so that others may simply live

— pick up some fallen cherry tree branches in the park and put them in a water jug and soon will be blossom
— bought a *used but like new Gap black leather bag $7.00, a vintage hand-knitted man's cardigan $3.99, which I will re-knit it ( the result will be posted it later )
— a bag of organic salad mix, add parmesan $1.00, a frozen pizza dough baked it into focaccia, add olive oil and basil $1.99, roasted 2 quarter of duck, $7.00 ( Delia Smith's recipe ), crème brûlée, cream $1.99, eggs $2.00, a bottle of Copper Moon chardonnay, $8.29*
— listen to Rufus Wainwright sing opera "Zemire et Azor" while cooking
— watch the dvd "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" borrow from the library
— read Khaled Hosseini's book "The Kite Runner" borrow from the library
Total cost of living for two today $33.26
*I still have half of the bottle chardonnay left
* used item bought at the thrift shop which support the battled women shelter

Used up most of my silence

doing things that you don't care for
to help people you don't like
in objects that don't interest you
—E. M. Forster

That is exactly what I did for most of the 2010.
Well, I'm not really well but at least I'm still kicking 
and alive.