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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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I trust the cards will fall. What a wonderland when you look.

Big, new cast. Ouchy ouchy. Nearly froze my arm at the winter carnival last night as I guess my circulation through to my fingers is not so good!

Wonderful evening though before I realized that my fingers were purple. We saw the Governor General open the Winterlude festival, and then watched the sound and light show projected onto the old train station to open the carnival.

Afterwards, we walked through the ice sculpture area where the competitors were in their 3rd hour of 24 in preparing their masterpieces. We'll go back to see things in progress this afternoon.

And then we went to that inn in the country. It was hilarious. It was a WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL place. The music was awesome. But on the drive there we were driving in the pitch black through the snow and looking for country side roads. C. kept saying, "I can't see anything. How are you supposed to see the crossroads? The roads are slippery!"

And I was saying, "Dude: Welcome to Canada. Drive more slowly. It's winter, dude, and we are not on the autobahn. Don't worry - you have snow tires. Do you want me to drive?"

"Yeah, Miss Broken Arm, that would get us there safely!"

I have so many cool videos to show, but those will have to be posted later. I'm off to the carnival and then possibly will be home before the film institute. I need some advice on another M. email. Actually, I probably don't need advice. :) Ach, whatever.

I'll leave you with this, and allow you to imagine C. nearly driving into a snowbank alongside a frozen river, having his first real Canadian driving experience after so many years here.

Driving (John N3wlove)

You never say anything in your letters. You say,
I drove all night long through the snow
in someone else's car
and the heater wouldn't work and I nearly froze.
But I know that. I live in this country too.
I know how beautiful it is at night
with the white snow banked in the moonlight.

Around black trees and tangled bushes,
how lonely and lovely that driving is,
how deadly. You become the country.
You are by yourself in that channel of snow
and pines and pines,
whether the pines and snow flow backwards smoothly,
whether you drive or you stop or you walk or you sit.

This land waits. It watches. How beautifully desolate
our country is, out of the snug cities,
and how it fits a human. You say you drove.
It doesn't matter to me.
All I can see is the silent cold car gliding,
walled in, your face smooth, your mind empty,
cold foot on the pedal, cold hands on the wheel.

|

12:36 p.m. - 2009-02-07

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