An unbelievably cool day.

All art galleries, all the time. Here's Taylor at the AGA, where we very much enjoyed the Goya prints, the Janet Cardiff and George Burgess Miller sound installations, the Degas sculptures, and the Yousef Karsh photos. Re Karsh, Imagine being privy to all those amazing people, from Audrey Hepburn to Winston Churchill, Desmond Tutu to Grey Owl, Glenn Gould to Einstein, Martin Luther King to Nehru, the Queen of England (she was a princess at the time) to Karen Kain.

I need to get back to the Alberta Gallery of Art before this show changes.

(below) Taylor at the AGA in Edmonton.


After 9 (yes, 9!) art galleries, we were off to the Carrot Community Arts Coffee House, in my neighbourhood, and Tay played her original composition "How Deep Does The Ocean Go?" and sang for the crowd. (I played a few ditties, too.)

At the Karsh exhibit, there was a "studio" set up where one could take their own portraits, then e-mail the to their computer. So neat. Mine is below.

And here I am in front of some of my favourite pieces of the day, at The Front Gallery on Jasper Ave. The artist is Doug Jamha.

(The above and below photos were taken by Taylor Leedahl.)

Below is Taylor's Karsh photo. I love it.

After the galleries, the Carrot, and the Farmer's Market on 118th, we had dinner with Greg, then the three of us walked back to 118th to see the contemporary, Edmonton-set play "The Gift," written by Collin Doyle and Jeff Page. Two thumbs up, and we were especially impressed with actor Amber Borotsik. (Wish I had time to post a decent review, but I'm running out the door, and am Saskatchewan bound.)

Until next time, amigos.

And now for something entirely different.

spoken word poetry

photography

guitar

singing

video



This is "Understory: Greig Lake Suite". View it here:



www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kRUP7JhMnQ

Pat Lowther, and a song.

A reading last night, at Audrey's, on Jasper, in Edmonton.

Christine Wiesenthal launched The Collected Works of Pat Lowther (NeWest Press).

You were not there.

There was a line I wanted to present to you, after, over a pint.

The hockey game had ended. (The Habs won.)

It was something about owning. Something like: "I am terrible at owning things."

Today I cannot find it, though the book is here, and I've turned the pages twice through.

I give you something yellow instead:

Song

I think you are a shaggy flower;

where I've touched you

my hands are yellow

(Pat Lowther)

Jasper.

Oh, Jasper. How lovely you remain. It had been
20 years since I'd spent time there (aside from
a short stop with my son when we were
entroute to Vancouver via train).





We stayed at the Jasper Park Lodge, where one of our favourite things was the free popcorn and lemonade stand.

The mountain wildlife did not disappoint. One couldn't have orchestrated a better showing.

We hiked.
We gassed up.

We took the sun on our deck.

And the vistas were sublime.

Found a crocus.

Jasper was especially good to us. First time on a tennis court in too long. One more thing: I'd forgotten how much fun croquet is.

Just clams.

Gaining an appreciation for west coast cuisine.

I'd meaning to stain this fence forever.

Life is art (and sometimes smoke).

[Blame it on the "shooter" glass.]

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