I’m burnt. A brilliantly sunny day spent covering 10 stages and finding shade. I forgot my hat and to tell the truth, it’s really challenging trying to take photographs while chasing an airborne hat or evening lifting the brim to see what the hell you’re focusing on.
I’m so deep in the rabbit hole with the reorganization of photos I lose all track of time. I come up for air when the need for coffee arises or when my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut and I haven’t eaten since my morning banana. Then there’s those moments when you know you’re forgetting something….but what? It’ll come to me…. It’s slowly dawning on me just how many photos I’ve taken or moments I’ve captured and the sheer number of bands and artists I’ve seen and heard!! I look at the collection trying to figure out how I could possibly have packed so much living and incredible music into such a short period of time. It’s been a dramatically life-altering and exhilarating four years.
Okay, we’ll kick this off with the weather…..freezing cold, snowing, raining, freezing rain, sunny, cloudy, pluses and minuses all over the map, exploding pipes, sinkholes, warming trends, arctic air masses, blankets on, blankets off…..we’re screwed! Somebody make up their mind!!!! This keeps up I’m whipping out the 3″ summer sandals…..winter be damned!
With so many projects on the go and unplanned opportunities popping up rather unexpectedly sometimes simply disappearing for a while, just evaporating into thin air, seems wonderfully appealing and rather peaceful. Inventing a new life is not easy but one plows on, dealing with the twists, turns, distractions and challenges life offers us. The people and music make it all worthwhile. I am truly thankful for the life I’ve had and for the life I’m living now.
Well, actually … ‘fun’ would not be how I would describe the last two weeks. Incomprehensible, horrific, blacker than the blackest black humour .. yeah, that’s more like it. Maybe what I meant to say was, “When does the fun begin?”
When we last left our plucky heroine, she was picking over the broken pieces of her shattered life, accompanied by her furry companions, who were cowering under the bed.
Ach and oy vey! This house move is cramping my style, big time. Haven’t been able to get out to a lot of events, because time’s a ticking, and there’s only so many hours in a day. I’d like to say I’ve become more selective in my outing choices. But the truth is, moving and packing is a bitch. There just isn’t any time to gallivant around.
But let me tell you about two recent events I did manage to squeeze in. Both were wonders in their own ways.
Every time I see an article lauding Mayor John Tory’s ‘inspired’ idea of turning Toronto into a ‘Music City,’ I get queasy. You see, I came to Toronto in 1976, when it really WAS one, and have watched succeeding local governments and well-heeled blue noses, waving the banners of political correctness and money over art, stomp the culture to death.
Bullseye Records of Canada
