Bagels: One, Doughnuts: Nought In no way is culture better represented than by its food. Food does not only provide basic sustenance; it provides comfort, acts as an art form, no matter how utilitarian, and even defines the daily schedules of the majority of people. In effect, we pledge allegiance to our food, as everything else is merely its construct. It is when conflicting foods clash that things become confused. I am a Jewish-Canadian. This may be one of the mildest and least loaded of the increasingly prevalent hyphenations in existence today, but the culturesBagels: One, Doughnuts: Nought
The HospiceThe phone rings. There isn’t much time. I wait, sullen with… What?The Hospice
Worry? I don’t know.
My uncle arrives. Wordless in his car. The silent snow of January flutters around us.
Reality is diminished as I step out. The solemn darkness of the pines looks out over the city, and my mother. The snow yields easily under my feet.
A warm foyer: I take off my boots. A tidy kitchen, a cozy den. A copy of Goddard’s Berceuse at an organ. I long to play, to have the sound seemingly flow from my fingers, smoothing and soothin
Three Failures As a Kamloops Symphony subscriber for over three years, I was well-versed in small-town orchestral fare: selected classics—only those that aren’t too difficult for the strings, the principal limiting factor—and works just modern enough to tickle the fancy of a large enough fraction of the audience to compensate for the other part, infuriated by the attempt to “educate” them. Nothing prepared me for my first truly moving musical experience as an audience member. It was the “English Masterworks” concert in the under-attended KSO chamber series that would prove to be soThree Failures
007-Write Off
Artistic
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I reject your reality and shall substitute it with my own.
The itch; the urge; the lies; the fever.
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I reject your reality and shall substitute it with my own.
The itch; the urge; the lies; the fever.
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