Yuula took this picture of me with the tree. I think it’s my favourite.
I rode my bike around the island. I went to the point and our tree was not there and I was sure it had finally washed up or sunk, but it floated west, around the bend. It is further out now, I don’t know how we’ll get to it with cameras.
One of my favourite things is The Veils. If you’re thinking that things are going pretty well and have no real impulse to think about every terrible ache in your heart and how high a bridge would have to be to ensure death, you should listen. They might just change your mind. The girl, Sophia, has a blog and it’s very funny. There’s a story about Kevin there. Today while...
Tonight on the way home, one from the Mariner, one from land, maybe the same swan in both if it was fast. I went to Tranzac for the Friends in Bellwoods show and saw Seb play. I should be at the White House for art things and $3 beer, but island living without sleep has made me sick and last night I started to write a very exciting suicide.
Work space on the cold empty island today after returning in a windy, splashy boat from dinner at the harbourfont, riding on flat tires. At the restaurant all the waitresses were dressed like Catholic schoolgirls. Everyone has left the island for the weekend and I’m here writing, waiting for a storm. The Konki Duet, has a new EP that sounds amazing and Zoé is so great.
I am on the telephone with my mom, but it looks like I have committed a crime. I should be writing, but I am reading an article about Memorial Medical Center during Katrina and online communities about dead bloggers. Summer is drying up.
I want your broken body. Do you live in Toronto? Do you or someone you love or even just know have a bruise, cut or scrape? Maybe from falling off a bike or tripping over a cat or really anything? If so, I would like to photograph it. Not in a creepy way, but more like this. You may not have one right now, but if you get one tomorrow or a few weeks from now you should keep this in mind. Email me!...
Me in Yuula’s studio with dirty hair after the city. Things I like: Kim Winderman, my friend who makes the most beautiful photographs in the world Ghosts by Castlemusic One Hundred Dollars Tougher Than The Rest, Bruce Springsteen Nebraska, Bruce Springsteen The Power of Love, Owen Pallet last year at the Gladstone and also Jennifer Rush’s original Until the Morning Comes,...
In the middle of the night we had a fire and at the end there was not much left to burn aside from small branches and leaves. At sunrise we went swimming with some strangers we met on the beach during the night and the birds came again. Up there is my favourite driftwood.
I am covered in bites and bruises. After swimming out to the tree again to take photographs with the underwater camera we built a fire on the beach and the ran into the freezing lake.
Fire alarms went off at the centre and lightning struck trees all around us and afterward the sky became purple.
Yuula and I stayed up all night and watched the sun rise over the lake. We sat on the small pier and thousands and thousands of birds flew west from the spit, low low across the surface of the water, and they would not stop coming for an hour. They flew in file, like a black snake across the lake and then they started coming back in small bunches. I had never seen anything like it and it was...