Getting organized

For those of you who've been wondering, I've been getting my flat in London organized. Yes, I am still coping with many British "terms & conditions", but I have made lots of progress. The major remaining hurdle is to deal with the taxes.

Here are some pictures of things in my flat.

The picture above shows some of the toys I have knit.

Bard's birthplace

William Shakespeare's birthplace in Stratford-Upon-Avon in December.





Was told off for taking the picture of the inside. Wished I had chosen something else to take a picture of afterwards.


Thought about working at the Stratford Festival in Ontario while I was there.

Summer in the city

I removed a few posts because they were too work-centric. Since then, I haven't written much because I've been busy procrastinating whenever I sit at my computer.

Somehow the winter of record precipitation levels has become the summer of record precipitation levels. Weird that I don't really feel like there's been much rain.

I was reminiscing today about the first rock concert I ever attended. It was David Bowie's "Heroes" tour. I saw him at the Ottawa Civic Centre. It was before general admission seating was abolished at concerts (which eventually happened due to some people getting crushed to death at a Who concert, I seem to remember). I went with a friend . . . have no idea where he is now.



I had a weird general admission experience when I went to see Graham Parker and the Rumour at the Civic Centre a couple of years after the Bowie concert. Parker was opening for Cheap Trick. I wasn't interested in seeing Cheap Trick, but most people there were. I got there early with some friends and we made it onto the floor right up to the edge of the stage.



It was a fabulous place to see the show, but what happened was not fabulous. It was very crowded and hot at the front among the crush of fans.

Some people wanted to get up to the front for the Cheap Trick part of the evening. They asked a great hulk of a guy standing next to me if he would trade spots with them. I can't remember what they gave him to help them to the front.



His way of making space for them was to ram me to the side by slamming me in the chest. I was winded and blacked out as I fell.

Fortunately, a friend I was with had the presence of mind to grab onto me and pull me to my feet as she shouted out: "This girl will die if you don't get out of the way for her."



The crowd parted for me and I was back at the front again gasping for breath. It was very weird.

Great concert and we left after Parker finished playing.

Magnifying Darwin

I went to the opening of the Darwin exhibit at the Royal Ontario Museum last week. It is titled, "Darwin: The Evolution Revolution".

The exhibit examines personal aspects of Darwin's life as well as focusing on his discoveries about evolution.

There was a large magnifying glass in the children's play area. The enlarged images of the objects put under it were projected on a screen on the wall.

I spent quite a bit of time observing different objects being magnified and taking pictures.








From time-to-time photos flashed up on the screen.



There were two live tortoises in a display case. They aren't the kind Darwin observed in the Galapagos, but they are quite big. It didn't look as though they were having much fun. People kept tapping on the glass to get their attention. It worked, but in general I found they were quite alert to their surroundings and any new presence nearby.


This tortoise in the picture below looked up to see what I was doing. I didn't tap at him or try and get his attention. The tortoises spent a lot of time hiding their faces toward the rocks. It seemed quite bright inside the contained area.


This is a stuffed tortoise--I think. I forgot to read the label.

Ophelia, cemeteries & suicide

A friend of mine killed herself a few weeks ago. I knew her for about 20 years. We met at the Art Gallery of Ontario where she organized special events and functions. I was a waitress in the member's lounge.


The day I found out she'd killed herself, I saw this graffiti in Philosopher's Walk near the Royal Ontario Museum. I wondered how many people would share this sentiment.



She would visit the member's lounge for a glass of wine after she finished work on Wednesdays--the one day of the week that the gallery stayed open late. We liked each other, but we didn't socialize.

We were both very good pals of a talented, yet troubled, artist friend who killed himself in May 2005. I also met him during the two years or so when I worked at the gallery. He was a waiter in the restaurant and a gifted jeweller and artist.

The two spent a lot of time together. She was an excellent friend to him.

She was laid off after 25 years or so of working at the gallery. He killed himself on her last day on the job.

He was quite ill physically and was suffering from depression. He was an alcoholic and abused drugs. He threw himself on the subway tracks at the Queen Street station after checking himself out of St. Michael's Hospital.

The last time I saw him he was so high that he could barely speak. We went to see the film "Ray" at the Bloor Cinema and he passed out and slept through the entire movie. He phoned me at about 1:30 a.m. to apologize.

We tried to meet again a couple of times, but he never showed up.

He had tried previously to kill himself. I had intervened and taken him to the hospital on one occasion. I had also helped get him out of jail when he got into a mess while holidaying in St. Eustatius once.

After he killed himself, she and I got together from time to time.

I hadn’t heard from her for quite a while, but I sent an email to her husband about a week before she hung herself on her back deck.

Apparently, she left no note, but had been suffering from insomnia and anxiety.

The memorial was held while I was away in England.

While I was in London I saw an exhibition of the work of John Everett Millais at the Tate Britain. His romanticized image of Ophelia after she killed herself is shown below.


These are not the first friends I've known who have killed themselves.

A long time ago, when I lived in Ottawa and was in Grade 8, a friend killed himself while sniffing glue.

CEMETERY OUTSIDE ALL SAINTS CHURCH

This church in Maidstone was built in 1395, but the site has had a church on it since 650. I am not sure of the age of these tombstones in the pictures because the dates are worn off.





Construction on St. Mary's Church in Chiddingstone began in the 13th Century.





CEMETERY NEAR ORANGEVILLE

I went to this cemetery in May of this year. It is outside a village near Orangeville, Ont.

Queues and exits at the film festival

Today was tough because I had a very early 9 a.m. screening of David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises followed by a 2:30 p.m. screening of Roger Spottiswoode's Shake Hands with the Devil.


Eastern Promises was shown at Ryerson University. There was a densely packed line up of people penned inside crowd-control fences outside when I arrived.

The film started half an hour late. Cronenberg made an appearance to introduce the film.


"What are you doing here?!" he said to the audience in jest because of the early start time. "This is the premiere of this film at this time of day."

The film had its gala premiere opening last night.

He also said that this is the first time he's made a film entirely shot outside of Canada.

Eastern Promises revolves around the story of a woman who dies in childbirth at Trafalgar Hospital in London. It is an urban gangster film about Russians in London--an interesting twist to the genre at a time when west and east seem to be reigniting a Cold War.

Although the film does not specifically make reference to the Alexander Litvinenko affair--Litvinenko was a former FSB officer who died in London last year from radiation poisoning--it shows aspects of the secret underworld of international espionage and gangster activity. The Russian gang is involved in trading heroin from Afghanistan.

In Eastern Promises, Cronenberg deploys elements of the urban gangster film that hearken back to Mervyn LeRoy's 1931 classic Little Caesar, including a strong subtext of homosexuality and impotence.

It also includes Cronenbergesque scenes of over-the-top gore and exaggerated caricatures that delighted the audience. Squeals and groans were heard throughout the auditorium at various particularly grisly points in the film.

GRAND EXIT

After the film, getting out of the theatre was a challenge: It was even more difficult to get out than it was to get in.

I wanted to take the usual shortcut across the Ryerson University Kerr Hall Quadrangle after leaving the screening because I was headed to points southwest of the theatre. However, in order to do so, I had to hastily and stealthily remove several crowd-control fences and squeeze between large oil drum-like containers to make my escape. I think I made a gracious, if illicit, departure from Ryerson considering the circumstances and didn't notice any angry staffers in pursuit.


I had been caught the previous evening trying (oh horrors) to get out the "in" door at the Elgin Theatre and was chastised by front-of-house staff.


After lunching at Eggspectation on Yonge Street with a Facebook friend I once again joined the queue outside the Elgin for Shake Hands with the Devil.

POWER OF VISA

I was with a friend for this screening. We were told that the platinum and gold Visa card advance entry privileges do not apply for films that begin before 6 p.m.

After the screening I buttonholed the front-of-house manager to discuss the procedure for platinum and gold Visa card holders. It turns out that those in possession of the cards are allowed to enter the theatre up to an hour and a half ahead of time. They are entitled to use a lounge where they are given complimentary "things" including Lindt chocolates, she said, and then escorted into the theatre before anyone else so they can choose their seats.

Once inside the Elgin, I made a dash for the balcony and my friend made a dash for the orchestra. I phoned her and we consulted from our respective seats on which was the best location. She felt she would be too close to the screen in the seventh row and came upstairs.

RWANDA FILM

Producer, director and cast all traipsed out on stage to introduce the film, which tells the story of former Canadian General Romeo Dallaire and the U.N. mission he headed in Rwanda in 1993.


The film focuses more on the story of the Rwandan genocide than Dallaire's ability to cope emotionally with the situation, although the film is based on his autobiography. The cinematography is dark and there are titles to explain where and when the action is occurring from time to time.

The film got a standing ovation as did a surprise visit from Dallaire as the credits were rolling.


"This film is part of a campaign to never let the Rwandan genocide be forgotten," Dallaire said. "I believe we have entered an era more evil than the colonial era."

Then--completely unrelated to the film festival--on the way home, there was an unusual sighting on the subway.