enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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For all I know.

Oh lordy. Have you ever before had a claustrophobic arm?

Honestly, that's precisely how my arm feels at the moment. The cast is crushing the damn thing at the point of rotation. (I realize that that's the point.) I keep on flexing my fingers, sometimes miming the action of drawing or playing the piano. My wings are bound.

Yesterday was a long day and I spent too much money (good quality winter boots, so my feet will no longer be cold, and a pair of SNOWSHOES!!!), but it was fun.

C. and I walked through the winter carnival, did our shopping in the market, shopped for vintage port for his Ph.D. supervisor (chocolate truffles for the other, with a tester box of five for us in the process :)), bought my special new winter boots, went to the mountain equipment store for our snowshoes, and then ended up at the FABULOUS movie called A Dream for Kabul. I cried several times during the documentary, which I don't normally do in a crowded public theater. Think. Think. My god the world is a fucked place and those children living in the rubble of war so beautiful.

After the movie there were two other documentaries showing - one on Cuba and one on Haiti. Both were interesting. Stumbled home and then worried about the claustrophobic arm. :)

Actually, there is more to it than that, but I can't quite bring myself to write it - not for any reason beyond my complete and utter laziness.

Listened to an excellent documentary about Darwin this morning. Love Darwin. I can't explain it, other than that when I was six my uncle gave me a book called What Darwin Saw and although I thought at the time it was a shit Christmas gift for a seven year-old, it started something.

There's a future story in that, I think, as I become a historian and write biographies and collateral stories, but the future has yet to be written. I think I might be more interested in the track of unwritten stories than in those already committed to print.

The concert on Friday was held in the inn in the country, as I said. I loved this place so much I think because it was on a narrow country road banked with snow and across the road from a vast, frozen river or perhaps a lake along its course. I could see black shadows of trees across and around the way, but the sense of space was beautiful. The stage was against the front windows of the inn with the windows staring out into this comfortable blackness, and candles flickered on each table, with no other light provided.

C. and I were late and it's not a large place, so we stood at the bar at the back. Not a problem for me at all. I had the bartender pour a pint or two of oatmeal stout and I leaned up with a clear view of the stage.

One of the opening acts did an excellent cover of Joni Mitchell's Coyote. The main act (Rose Cousins) was terrific. I loved her voice. My new favourite song is one called "One New York Ago."

Sadly, I can't find a decent video of her song, and my short snippet video is crap, but here it is, anyhow:

As for the inn, I tried to capture the ambiance as we left the place, but it was too dark. Here's an attempt, anyhow. :) All of my doubts about being Canadian and living in Canada disappear when I am in that black, wooded space in the hollowed-out snow. What could any imaginary Italian lover have on this? The body has a memory.

Well, this crackpot ought to get ready for some snowshoeing in the woods, lit by sprinkles of sunshine on the untouched snow. (Well, let's hope that we see some animal or at least WOODPECKER tracks.)

11:41 a.m. - 2009-02-08

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