This was a short work week. I caught this cranky horrid cold over the weekend, and it knocked me out for Monday and Tuesday.
So here I am, again, feeling a little behind on projects, but an opportunity has come along for a little stress-free vacationette, and I’m taking it.
Tomorrow I’m sailing with a friend and client over to St. John aboard his hot-rod Newick 38 trimaran. I’ve often wanted to go for a ride on this rocket, and despite being offered numerous opportunities, I’ve always bowed.
I’ll stay at the owner’s place up on the mountain tomorrow night, then catch a ride back to Tortola with another sailing friend, aboard his lovely little Rhodes-designed Swiftsure 33. This is the same boat I sailed to Antigua a couple years back, a real little gem.
I hmm’d and haw’d a little bit, guilting over the time spent away from my work, but I’ve got to face it; I’ve been burning both ends of the wick all summer now, almost a year (!) without any sailing at all, and it’s time to get out and remind myself what I’m really actually working towards…
November 30, 2007
guilty? I’ll try not to feel it…
July 14, 2007
where the music takes you
When I listen to the music, I don’t listen to the music. I hear the sound of the feeling from the song, from before…
David Grey is quiet moment stolen from the children, loosed off the boat for an afternoon in Ganges, Mike kicking back with a smile and a tea. Norah Jones is a summer afternoon in my mother’s home, Long Island Iced Tea being stirred up in the background. Bedouin Soundclash will always be the best few months of my life on Tortola; Gillian, Clive, Galit, and afternoons wasted, simply wasted at Smuggler’s. 311 is always heading down the freeway in the Civic with Kiffy, speakers just barely drowning out the new SuperTrapp, crashing at his friend’s in Abbotsford, commuting into town to look at every damn Honda and Volkswagen for sale in Vancouver, until finding that one, the black one on 2nd Ave. NOFX is singing Linoleum to myself over and over, walking into town from Pine Valley. Less Than Jake is always Scott’s house on S. 2nd past Boundary, Gary, Josh, and the boys, BMXing into Glendale. Bob Marley is on the tapedeck in the Jetta, a fresh driver’s licence on the way to and from Rose Lake. Dead Milkmen a time with Rob and Leigh, singing in Dana’s kitchen (Life Is Shit!) Ha! Lynn, Dana, and Karen singing Oh Canada in the next room… Metallica puts me right there in Shaun’s basement, a picture-perfect rememberance. Nirvana varies song to song… Smells Like Teen Spirit is the first moment I completely heard it, in Robin White’s Renault, driving out of the back parking lot at Columneetza, passing the windows of Mr. Allnut’s classroom (Doubleblock spare! Headed to the newly-opened Timmy Ho…). Heart Shaped Box is finding out that quiet Krista liked grunge too… and another with her, Lemonheads on an afternoon drive from Nelson to Ainsworth and back, always aware that the music was, in turn, taking her to somewhere else entire. Queen always plays loud and happy in Anna’s Western Ave. family house. Oh, and yes! Nine Inch Nails is a naked bike ride around the Bethel across the street, with a similarly naked Rob jogging behind. Operation Ivy… well shit, besides getting pumped up every trip to Timothy, it’s a certian moment with Take Warning at 11 in the Jenkin’s van heading to Prince George with Cory. Seal’s Crazy, fresh on radio, stuck stuck stuck in my head, walking too many miles from Crescent Valley to Bonnington on a sprained ankle to see Kyla. Another NOFX; coming back from Nelson in Todd’s van, August heat, unwashed bodies, singing at the top of our lungs, driving like fuckers, a load of confused hippie hitchhikers in the back. Moby has me back at The Templeton, along with any other song on their jukebox… The Rebel Spell… any song, anytime, anywhere, and I’m back in Todd’s kitchen off Commercial, listening to the pre-press tape, suddenly transitioning from liking them ’cause they’re my friends to liking them because they fucking rock! And oh shit, anything Troi plays and it’s Hectic Days at the Hectic House (why do good things have to end?). Fugazi is right in harmony with the tattoo machine at Brian’s shop. Macy Gray is my face against the Greyhound glass, earphones, and knowing I was heading south for a break-up. India Arie is heading north with fears confirmed. Did I mention that The Rebel Spell fucking rocks? I’m listening to that right now… Social Distortion are always on the tapedeck on the shelf above the water filter above the patchwork cement above the pit in the Jenkin’s garage; have I listened to them anywhere else? Bad Religion is a fast and nasty drive in Chad’s Suburban; oh yeah, you were there too! Great Big Sea is waking up too early, and in turn, waking up a whole troop of 15-yr old kids too early for day of working the ropes (but don’t forget the captain’s coffee!). Black Crowes is Hot To Handle in the old yellow HiFi Express van, delivering home stereos at excessive speed and volume. Burning Spear and I’m driving back from Chimney with Callie. Interpol and whew, it’s 8 meals in 10 days at DV8, not to mention a night or two falling asleep to it in Carrot Bay, wondering whatever really happened to that Jesse. Fiona Apple is a moment of dejection in Stacey’s bedroom. Jamiroquai is a silly hopeless stupic exstatic moment with her in mine. Breeders is a singular moment on South Lakeside Drive, the curve before the store, realizing that I could play that music too.System Of A Down plays from nowhere in my mind than from the speaker’s of Brian’s van, heading to Rose Lake. Scissor Sisters brings a flash of a forced and plastic downtown westend cocktail party, then a fuller broader rememberance of “The Lounge” with Colleen, Van, Bakes, and Sonja. Peter Tosh, the first CD I ever owned, catching a ride from a neighbor into school. Motley Crue, Whitesnake, shit any hairband, and I’m back in grade 9 on the morning schoolbus. Trooper, yes live Trooper, and I’m right back there at the prom in Fraser Lake… (you know your star is fading when you’re playing for a 40-student grad class in bumfuck nowhere). Speaking of which, Donovan (Mellow Yellow, anyone?) and it’s folding chairs in the old WLJS gym. Funny, out of all possible memories, hearing NSQ always ALWAYS takes me back to that Battle of the Bands, seeing Candice for the first time in ages, walking through the crowd (cardigan, long khaki skirt, a pair of square silver sequins in the eyeliner)(why/how do I remember this shit?). Yeah, where do the memories come from? What about all the other tossed thoughts that come only when the sounds are heard? Play me another song, and I’ll tell you what I see.
Scent would be a whole other discussion, more nebulous, more passionate, more intense and yet diffuse; could we relate at all? But we all hear the music, concrete rockin’ music, a pulse in the blood… we all hear the memories… or is it just me? What do you remember?
May 23, 2007
tagged by Gillian
Dear Miss Gillian of Typealice Design has tagged me. Or, er, I asked to be tagged. Whatever tagging is. The next step in chain letters, applied to blogs. Ar well, the interview questions I’ve been asked (or that I’ve asked to be asked) are:
1. What is your favourite thing to eat?
Hmmmm… That’s a good one. I’m a bit of a “foodie”. There’s little in the way of food that I don’t much enjoy, and plenty of things yet to try! This question kept me awake last night, and I finally narrowed it down to… The Sandwich. Yes, the humble sandwich. I mean, I really like good fresh bread, and a good sandwich often has a couple pieces of that. I’m cheered by just about any sort of sandwich, everything from processed cheese on crustless white to a lovely hot rueben on toasted rye. Lay an honest hearty muffeletta or cheesesteak in front of me, and I’m all yours.
2. What character traits annoy you in other people? In yourself?
I abhor liars. This is a problem for me, as almost everyone I encounter is nearly continually lying. Mind you, this is just my own weird perception, as a hyper-literal observer. I also strongly dislike any lack of self-respect. I can’t seem to respect anyone who can’t respect themselves. Furthermore, while I can respect someone who I do not like, I simply cannot like anyone who I do not respect.
I myself have traits that I find very frustrating at times, but not neccessarily annoying. However, I’m sure I exhibit a whole plethora of traits that most other people simply cannot stand.
3. Growing up, what was your most prized possession?
Another tough question. I recall plenty of objects in my youth that I felt particularly attached to at the time, but they have all passed from me, and are only recalled which a question such as this brings them to my mind. The two most obvious choices have been my boat and my bus, but those objects have (and continue to) possessed me, rather than the other way around. I let this one rattle around in my head for a day, and the answer has finally found me. I’m sure now that it has always been my bike. Well, there’s been four different bicycles, actually, but they each represented a certain spirit of freedom and exploration that has continued with me, unbroken.
4. You tend to research a lot of things, depending on who you meet and what their interests are. What has been your favourite topic to learn about?
Researching, to me, consists mainly of learning what is already known, already discovered. Only a very few people ever get to learn anything truly novel, to create new knowledge. It would be incredibly difficult for me to narrow down what specific topic has best held my interest, rather, I find myself most interested in meta-knowledge, and the integration of apparently far-removed areas. For example, I really enjoy taking knowledge gained in one field and applying it to another. This might be as simple as using sailboat hardware for suspension rigging, or as esoteric as applying perceptual theosophy to combinometric mathematics. Really, I’d kinda prefer to be able to turn the damned thing off sometimes (my brain, that is).
5. If you weren’t in the BVI, where would you be?
If I could sail away from here tomorrow (assuming it wasn’t actually hurricane season), it would be to New England and the Maritimes. If I hadn’t come to the BVI, well, I couldn’t even imagine where I’d be… My life has taken some pretty large and unexpected turns; I suppose I would have gone wherever they took me.
If you’d like me to interview you too, just post a comment saying so. 🙂
April 25, 2007
jiggidy-jig
These last couple weeks since my return from California have been marked by the departures of several dear new friends. Conundrum left for St. Martin last night (or more precisely, very very early this morning) with Van and my dear Eddie, Twig & Bonnie’s Heron is gone to Antigua, Paul & Sonya’s Event Horizon is somewhere south (I think, and sometime soon to be north), and Eilean Donan is already hauled out, her owners gone to new jobs in the States. Small Scott is leaving New Moon this afternoon, after a brief yet timely trip down.
This is the time of year I most dislike. It’s getting hotter by the day, people are leaving, and even worse, I’m forcing myself to turn down offer after offer to sail in Antigua Classics and/or deliver boats north. The timing of the California trip was poor, but I so desperately needed to get off this rock for awhile! Unfortunately, It really shot me in the foot, so to speak; as it’s now too late to seriously consider launching Centaurea for a northward escape of my own before summer shuts me in. Also, work has backed up since I left, and it’s almost impossible to justify another “vacation” so soon.
Still, I’m full of renewed vigor, and every week sees me making signifigant forward progress on Centaurea. I’m feeling less process-oriented and increasingly goal-oriented. In short, I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, not brightly, but at least clearly enough to be able to see that it’s not another train coming at me. If, as planned, the boat is passably ready for action by mid-summer, I see a trip to… Michigan. Michigan? Yup, Michigan. Eddie has a summer gig up there, and I’ll be dying to see her again.
