'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.