Wednesday 16 July 2003

epilogue
am getting to be a pro at leaving.
woke to the ode and the sun streaming through the pipe house window. sat dazed a bit, then headed to find if there was any remnant of coffee. no would have to head to tim's by stavanger drive which means i had a limited time to act before the headaches start. cleaned up the place a bit, returned robert and jill's books - monday was orangemen's day here so the town hall was closed. headed over to see the capelin again - everyone was outside bruce's, talking to noelle, getting ready for the day.

packed the van nodded to people as if i would be back. headed up to sullivan's loop to see if the swiss couple were up yet. no.

headed back by the school to see if mike was up yet. couldn't tell. passed bruce's did the newfoundland nod and headed out of town.

after the extra large coffee at tim horton's to the airport to check in - learned this from mike - then into town to post the blog and with the intention of having one last breakfast at the bagel.

instead chatted with jim -became a member of the board of directors of the pouch cove foundation, talked about when next time would be - a quick three days in september seem more and more out of the question due to how i'll go through funds between now and then.

went to tell george at the family barber shop that i would send the print in a week or two, told sue that it was safe to go back into the duke again. didn't walk duckworth didn't get a samosa from authur authur. felt that i was running behind as i still had to get gasoline.

headed over to angela's to say good-bye and see how she was doing. chatted with jerry about the auction at the lspu hall it seems that both he and mike made killings and could have made more. thanked jen for all the information about downloading files to a website.

it was here that it hit me. i was leaving. shocked at the amount of gasoline the caravan took only a quarter down and it took $25 to fill it.

thanked kelly at hertz profusely for her help. she remembered me due to my signature. road the escalator up to the departure lounge took an inordinate time to get through security - they had to wipe my plastic cameras for explosives. and i had wrapped them in my clothes.

unlike the states they chatted they wondered what in the x-ray bags but allowed me to touch them to open them without going for their guns and yelling to step away from the table. no forced by rote asking of permission which is about as feeling as "hi welcome to mcdonald's may i take your order?".

sat. sat facing the wal-mart in stavenger drive. and waited. couldn't see out the window so i didn't know when we left newfoundland and labrador airspace, couldn't see the water. i played professional and worked on the website between falling in and out of sleep.

the gate was the old atlantic provinces gate 202 at the end of the terminal opposite u.s. customs. passing the gates to montréal and ottawa - picked up an gazette and la presse.

coming customs was no problem leaving the queue was outside the snaking barriers - to took 30 minutes to get into the u.s. in pearsons - wonder why canada allows this.

it was the u.s. also the immigration officer was a prick, surely speaking lowly in a mechanical voice.
-what were you doing in toronto .
-i wasn't in toronto i was i st. john's
-when did you arrive? how long have you been here? all being asked while not even looking at me.

wanted to pick up some timbits for carol but i was in the u.s. waiting room now no tim's here.

security was better missed the people of middle eastern heritage that used to run the machines saw it as a dig on the u.s. profiling and xenophobia. again chatted while they swabbed the cameras.

in the satellite building had a tea should i pay with us or canadian dollars - if i decided not to head out i would have to go through canadian immigration. kept the green stuff well away paid in canadian.

picked a free globe and post am hoarding. headline in the post how a map made in the u.s. omitted prince edward island - i guess it sank as charlottetown is in floating in the gulf of st. lawrence. they also omitted the yukon territory , misspelled nunavut and called theh province of newfoundland and labrador - newfoundland.

plane was 90 minutes late in leaving rain and waiting a person trying to get through customs.

i would be heading up the torbay road at this time deciding if i should run into bruce's for a snack.


Tuesday 15 July 2003

to-day even though it isn't supposed to be turned into a wrapping up day. for even though people said that i'll be back i remember that 25 year hiatus between trips to rio de janeiro. it started out normal enough. with the gathering around to look at the capelin. after i left it became even more of a scene as at one time there were about 50 people staring down at the stage by the town hall there was a traffic jam.

packed to see if it were possible. seems like i am o.k. headed over to the school to give mike john corbett's e-mail - again he knew john corbett but didn't know of the 'tute - also to scrounge some more for my found objects book in preparation for the new residency and exhibition space. thought more about the show i'm curating next summer.

headed into st. john's to the chapters to buy canadian art and border crossings - was also looking for mix. took the transcanada that main road that links not only the province but the nation that spine in the island so one can go from coast to coast to coast. got off some 10 km later at thorbourn (sp) road to kenmount.

thought about heading over to the saturn, saab isuzu dealer for a plate protector to be cool when i have to return. and to drive saturn of waukesha crazy. had no room however so gave it a pass.

into st. john's to post the blog, then answer e-mail. st. john's was sultry no one is used to the 28 degree weather yet. jim shows me a passage from a book - innocents in newfoundland - or something like that in which jim - a chronic alcoholic, wordplay and pouch cove are mention. a new supply of nfld lit books came in - new michael crummey, rare birds which was filmed in newfoundland. they were added to my list of books being shipped back. with those and and the letter press chapbooks from the craft council, i'm set for sometime. bought two prints at st. michael's print shop. talked again to the woman from whom i got information in case i want to try to lead a study trip up here - fat chance with the dean if it ain't poor, southern and exotic - cuba, south africa, vietnam - it ain't got a chance. my first stay on the rock was delayed a year when she rejected the request - i think i got to the "found" in newfoundland when the "no" was uttered. she had no problem heading on to south africa 12 september 2001. wow deans her and the patronising of the world and the one at beloit who quarantines people from countries with s.a.r.s.

bought my two samosas from authur, authur and headed out to the outer battery to find ray. felt reassured that the bubble by the battery was there for i couldn't find the one at the bottom of prescott street. the gulls were having a grand time going through the sewerage.

bert sparkes was out in sea city view, i wish i had seen his fallout shelter. he goes there when he and the missus have a falling out. not as many tourists to-day but people complaining about the hills.

thought that ray's place was a real dump but was looking at the wrong place. his has a great view of the harbour is one of the tallest houses in the outer battery and quite nice. yelled at him for not returning my phone call. if i have to use a phone you better bloody well pick it up. sat chatted, told me about his plan to try to have summer workshops at the college where he is teaching as the place is empty when school is not in. it was a strange thing brian tobin did moving offices and the like from st. john's but not moving any of the life style so the i.t school of the province is in stephenville. nothing else is in stephenville. the cruellest joke played on artists here wa placing the art school in corner brook a city with three galleries. 700km from the cultural centre of the province. like just about everyone he wants to make the avalon a place where all sorts of creativity goes on.

it would be great i could be here and get paid while doing my own work, i wouldn't have to set up a darkroom here and the one remaining stressful part of my life would disappear.

back down duckworth when it started to hit me that there were little things that i didn't do - eat international flavours, photograph ziggy peelgoods when it was closed and alone in front of the scotia bank building. the conveniences at dusk when they delineate the corners. a film at the avalon, music at the ship. seeing if i can survive the spur. a night game at st. pat's. ice cream at moo moo's - that was solved immediately. i was only mildly aware that i wouldn't behere at this time to-morrow. i had said good-bye to some people but it hadn't hit. i had my globe and was heading a bit later to the duke. it was nice evening so i sat along harbour drive to read the paper - didn't photograph the irving sign on the south side hills.

the bubble reassuringly reappeared. that perfect circle where when standing in a certain spot the narrows is directly behind it with signal hill and fort amherst leading the eye to it.

headed to the duke with ann as jim went home. the usual crowd was there again reassuringly normal like every night. the unofficial game of the evening - who can bum more ciggies - twenty something woman or fiftysomething tourist it seems all i have to do is feign shock at the prices and voilà - no i don't smoke. roz's husband has the line of the evening - this is newfoundland you can smoke anywhere. made fun of the poseurs chatted had three slow pints.

walked slowly through st. john's at night to take in people simply living there. looked into their lit houses. there was a night walking tour taking place. headed down gower. looked out to signal hill, down toward the lspu hall, down holloway , to kings got in the caravan drove down gower to the old mile one of the trans canada back up through rawlin's cross. down bannerman where i could see the lights of st. pat's on the left in the near distance. a night game - turned right for the ride out to pouch.


before i forget
thanks jim yet again for putting me up and putting up with me.
thanks angie for giving as good i give people from fogo aren't all that bad.
thanks jen considering the parentage…
thanks sharon for telling me more about pouch.
thank russell, vince, ted, ted, kelly and sam for making me feel like a resident albeit a c.f.a.
thanks diane for letting me use the library computer.
thanks martin and gabrielle one day i hope to meet you martin.
thanks jane for liking my work enough to display it.
thanks sheri for posting hat impossibly long list of books to add to my can nfld lit shelf.
thanks tania for not being crushed under the shelf - that would have made for a strange posr card.
thanks lori - that is your name isn't it - for letting send the blog from your computer.
thanks terry for not kicking me out of the duke when ray recognised me.
thanks ann for being horrified about the death of josh
thanks heidi for the home made pad thai - without the fish sauce and the home made bread. dinner at midnight isn't bad at all
thanks chris for pad thai frittata the next day.
thanks malcolm and sherry for a nice evening of ranting in pouch.
thanks mike for showing me why i should regulate my caffeine.
thanks ray for keeping me in mind for the new photo department at the c.n.a. - the way the silver knight is running the 'tute i may need it in a couple of years.
thanks luke, stumpy, kevin, yvette, the two painters, the woman sunbathing in st. vincent's, the two people who sold me strawberry kiwi drink in the battery. the two ontarians wondering what capelin are, robert and jill, dan, and dan, the woman at number 42 main road in bauline who photographed the watercolourists, paul geordie. the enlglands, john browne, vicky hynds and all the rest who put up with my making snaps of them. and reassuring me that i am not the only one who sees bush as a dangerous imbecile.

my russian teacher at beloit used to say - constantly - if i had more time i would have written a shorter letter. i stand by that.

this sucks anyway. going out into the world there can only be an oprah like honesty. things have to be couched, for instance i feel that the president of that august institution in chicago is as incompetent as the president of the u.s. both put us in debt neither will take responsibility but here i can only allude to my feelings.
also not wanting to make this my life i found that i was spending too much time.

it was an experiment i know not to do it again or to do it radically modified.

Monday 14 July 2003

the world will end at noon - 12:30 in newfoundland

they left without saying anything. heard them moving about then silent, after about 20 minutes i went outside and looked up and their s.u.v. was gone. i went upstairs to find a two prints on the table - one for sharon one for jim - this evening sharon's was still here. at first thought that she had forgot it but now think that she didn't want a print of the stage near where they found jesse's body. the key was in the door.

i moved up got settled then headed out. went over to bauline to photograph the town. still one of my favourites as it is sandwiched in between two mountains. one street into town that takes you to the dock quite steep.

parked across from a house that was for sale - nice view gut a shed would have to be torn down to get a better one $44 000 cdn. headed down to the pier, passing to torontonians painting the harbour. made a couple of snaps and headed back up through town - it takes maybe three minutes to walk from end end to the other - but stopped to photograph the painters.

wandered the town for about an hour, photographing my usual iconography - basketball hoops, laundry lines, outlines of the island. added lobster and crab pots.

bauline was cleaning up at one time it seemed that most of the town was for sale now it was all vinyl sided with volvos in front of the houses. everything looking over conception bay was bought up and quite modern looking.

made two rounds around the town. one with ubaldo and due to the fact that i actually took the diana out of the bag - once again with a plastic one. so much for this being the end of plastic.

a convoy of cars, s.u.v.s, and a motorcycle sped down to the harbour. about a dozen people hopped out and started to put on wet suits. all of a sudden bauline was the height of activity.

passing them again, i chatted with the torontonians who were quite the tourist attraction themselves. some came up to chat, others to look at the painting. a woman came up to take their photograph - i took one of her photographing them. she lived beside the house that was for sale last year. showed her the book of people and found out that dalton was actually alton - this has happened a great deal.

the conversation as usual surrounded the usual bafflement that the states sees nothing wrong with bush and why we would try to impeach a president who lied about an affair but don't bother with one who lies and thousands die because of it.
mentioned that peter jennings is now a yank maybe they would like to do a trade…

into st. john's to post the blog.

cape st. francis was nice and cool st. john's was hot . it was probably on 25 but after the drizzle and 8 degrees yesterday it felt sweltering. in wordplay was shocked to see jim back from biscay bay. gave him the print from robert said that jill his partner spent yesterday in hospital getting a tetanus shot due to a rusty nail.

so had jim. it seems that angela had fractured her wrist in trepassey and was brought back by ambulance to st. john's at 2am.

would go over and see her but first. i had been waiting since i arrived to do this and was afraid to do so due to the budget busting gasoline consumption of the caravan.

i had my samosa breakfast at the bagel. better still i had it outside in duckworth street reading the national post. - i had finished the globe at the duke last night. a little thing but i felt once again an inhabitant of the avalon peninsula, it is the little things that do this.

the waitress - yvette - came out to have a chat - nice day hated to be inside. the seat were in the shade already. she was a lab assistant at the same hospital that angie and jill went. she waits at the bagel to help out.

said that i had to make her snap as she had talked to me . she asked how many i had done about 100, since 1999, not counting this time. she said that she could do that in an afternoon in the café, i said that i wasn't collecting butterflies but trying in an unscientific way to show the diversity of the island - we'll worry about labrador later. that it wasn't all old men mourning the loss of the cod fisheries.

she brought up how newfoundlanders are stereotyped and how newfoundlanders are the ones who do the stereotyping.

settled up and headed over to see how angela was. had to dodge the inch worms hanging from the maple trees along rennie's mill road two ended up on me and i felt what seemed like a bight. couldn't decide whether i wanted to risk traffic and be in the street or run into these inchworms hanging everyplace. yesterday saw a remedy that seemed to work wrapping duck tape around the trunk about four feet off the ground.

there were games at st. pat's there was a baseball on their back patio. angela was in pain and pretty much out of it. withdrew headed back sweating, wanted to stop into moo's for an ice cream but the queue was out the door. headed over to see if the jazz festival was still on. it wasn't. went back to wordplay to await jim and mike to head to the duke.

walking in, i see ray, who in his usual self starts to yell in greeting frightening terry, i head for the door but it is too late. two ribs are crushed as he embraces me, yelling at the top of his voice. complaint from the harbour commission - he is drowning out the fog horns.

terry seems worried that he is going to loose the tourists who don't know what is going on. i try to get to the patio. mike and jim have abandoned me. he finds them and his friend - a scot - starts to chat with me.

finally we are on the deck chatting. he has a proposition for me that i never hear, he seems upset that i am leaving tuesday - he's upset!!!? wants me to ring him as terry is trying to get him to leave. finally get a snap of terry and am thinking that this episode will either allow me to run a tab in the future or get me exiled to the spur.

i have been christened - either by ray or mike - the accidental newfoundlander. from what little i could find out, ray is teaching at the college of the north atlantic and wants to work out a workshop schedule with me. i'll find out to-morrow or not.

a heated discussion on what to do with the newly expanded pouch cove foundation.
am to curate a show next year.

back to jim's for pizza where the eternal debate of the rock was brought up with jerry and mike-which i like by the way -where regionalism stops and sense of place begins. if you paint table mountain all the time are you doing tourist art. if you make prints of the bars along george street is that any different? do torontonians make ontario art? what iconography does a hamiltonian use?

headed back to do some serious work on the web site - on the way up route 20 thought it strange that i was not staying in st. john's but the window at the pipe house is closer to the ocean than the one at number 14.

the dominion was closed - hoped that i had enough coffee for the morning.

stopped in torbay and actually head into the cove. will need to walk. the road went bad really quickly - well bad for a car rental where they mark all the dings on the the receipt.

took out the tripod and made photographs of pouch at night. may have waited too late as i wanted anice balance between buildings and sky. we'll see.

am trying to build up resolve to not be terribly bitter heading back to the states a good 45 days before i have to.
so here i am joking about photographing old fishermen and how tired i am of seeing stages, lobster pots and the like, when reg comes over to pick up his car. it is 9:30 i'm heading over to sharon's to get the key for number 14 and tell her about the print.

-the capelin are roeing. he says. i head race over to the stage. sam is there as is vince. the morning group are in getting in and out of their cars and i realise that they would gather there not only to chat in the morning but also to look at the people heading out and to see the state of the capelin.

from above a saw a few beaching themselves, walking down the stage i realised that the dark area of sea was all capelin. schools and schools of them. watched from both sides of the stage now realising that i had become the attraction. the morning group watching the c.f.a. watching the capelin. reg drives by and asks if i'm going to catch any. no.

see vince and yell up to him. that makes me less of an oddity.

heading up back up the stage i see russell in his boots, with a net and a pail heading walking down with determination. asks if i'm going to catch anything said no am a vegetarian. a long silence don't know if he is going to hit me.
-best thing in the world fish he says. understand it is like being a vegan in the dairy state.

now the link becomes more involved. the morning group now with cars - both local and tourist - stopping - watching me photograph russell netting capelin. me photographing the morning group watching russell and me.

head up when his brother henry comes running down with two kids while paul has just come in with his boat. a couple of ontarians seeing the hub bub stop come over and wonder what is going on. vince tells them everything how to prepare them what they are.

elke drives up and stops in the middle of the road. gets out and has a look and tells the ontarians how she prepares them. how they should wait until they have spawned but it seems to be enough of them.

the ontarians wonder about lobsters having seen paul winch his boat in and his help empty the pots.

both move on elke north, the ontarians back to st. john's.

chat with sam who liked his photograph - it is captioned incorrectly as cyrill who is his son.




Sunday 13 July 2003

walking to bruce's on the narrow part of main road by the ramp, met a man who was had just got out of his car in a strange spot. he hadn't parked by the town hall but right at gruchy's hill.

cloudy windy and cool - 10 degrees - he said that there are no capelin to-day as they spawn in the rocks right below us. he mentioned the whales of a couple of days ago. that the bad weather comes in from shoe cove - the south east. watch the flag on the post office. as i was going to make his snap he raced to speak to someone who had pulled up.

on the way to bruce's thought that i saw paul - nodded.

returning to number 14, saw everyone by the ramp at gruchy's hill and asked if paul would be there for 5 minutes - yeah - as i was leaving he said that i had made a photograph of lloyd and him some time back.
yelled back - yeah did you see it?

raced to find the book and brought it back. he had gone by then out in the cove to tend to nets it looked like.

headed back to the house and watched until he came in and headed back
over. it seemed like there was some sort of catch - crab - but not much. showed him the snap in the book with everyone gathered around. geordie took the book and really had a look at the people around here. while this was happening i was photographing them.

geordie said that he would like a book - yet another person - said that i would send him one when i get back.

my snaps are all over pouch - in bruce's in the elementary school, some up in the pipe house from 1999.

took the way through bauline to head into st. john's wanted to photograph the pond that was used for swimming - the swimming area only about six feet wide. preferred the sand box where a box was placed on the beach the sand included was no different from the sand what was excluded.

thought again about stopping in torbay but yet again left it for another day - what other day i don't know.

hitting st. john's parked in gower street where i used to park by the church close to the duke. parked behind a s.u.v. with two kayaks from illinois.

blog posted, thought that i would wander a part of st. john's that i had never seen. a walk along hamilton avenue that heads out to the village mall. constant hill up out of downtown mix of houses - wanted to photograph the labatt's brewery and see what else there was.

heavy mist i was cold but sweating due to the hill climbs, found a ball park at victoria park. worked around the game. yet another field with a great view. from above i could see the cabot tower of signal hill.

another big difference between the rock and the rest of north america. passed ned pratt's photo studio which couldn't be missed. stained wood façade a good three houses long modernish rustic with ned pratt photography on the building. in the states no-one would advertise a place with expensive equipment like that. in chicago one walks past photo studios unless the address is known.

photographed the spaced between buildings, irvings mainways gas bars, closed conveniences - fitting at the goal of this wander was the closed wal-mart at the village mall - launderettes.

after a while i stopped photographing and just walked a looked. this happens instead of forcing i simply wander. it also had to do with the change of scene. the houses were becoming more suburban - front lawns more space between them and topsail road was more an arterial than an urban street.

the idea was to take a bus from the village mall to mount pearl but the weather was too dreary, walked back into town via topsail road -- here it was more treed, older a number of basketball hoops.

in the drizzle and now eight degree weather took in the jazz festival on the outdoor stage in george street. it was so cold that the guitarists had trouble keeping their hands warm. about 50 die hards were sitting and standing around under umbrellas.

listened for about an hour - long enough for a respectable time to head over to the duke to read the globe. got my pint went to the back by the door and started to read. sue was playing darts. the usual crowd was gathered at the far end of the bar.

about 30 minutes later the placed filled, the giant television was turned on and for the next 45 minutes people watched the test pattern. they were awaiting the broadcast of the super rugby league match between the newfoundland rock and the toronto extreme. stayed of the first half but it was depressing the rock were not doing well at all. in fact i moved to the bar to get away from the crowd.

back to number 14 to make the move to the pipe house as martin and gabrielle are coming. lower studio, even closer to the studio. couldn't find the key so asked robert upstairs to open the lower studio door. went to thank him to find out that he and jill are heading out. they want to see gros morne, and l'anse aux meadows. suggested the short ferry ride to labrador. i think that the ruggedness of the pipe house was too much for them. she had stepped on a nail and spent the day in emergency to get a tetanus shot.

so once again the run of the entire pipe house. still the best view.

Saturday 12 July 2003

a quiet day yesterday. a walk to the library to check e-mail on the internet then over to bruce's to buy some milk and a chat with dannie. the morning crowd were gathering by the town hall again in cars as it was cold out. greeted russell, and worked a bit until ted raced over to show me the whales.

headed into st. john's early to post the blog now that i found a spot where i can park all day. walking down king's road stopped to make a photograph. when i headed down to duckworth, i smile at two gents working on their car.

-where you from? thought of ilona and the debates we used to have on being a tourist - she hated being thought of as a tourist in her own land and would bristle, didn't mind as i found out all sorts of things. so instead of saying pouch cove said baltimore - the colony that took and now that they talked to me i would have to make their snap. they laughed and made a snap first as they were standing looking at me his friend holding up his arm then while they were working on their car.

was worried as it was against bright buildings and their faces were in the shade. hung around as we were still chatting. had the book of snaps with me to show them what i was doing. they had a look. john, the person who asked where i was from liked it and wondered if he could buy one.

yeah sure like i'm going to sell a book made with an inkjet printer - something that will fade before i leave the province. said that i would send him one when i get back.

he gave me his name john browne irish browne - i said it was a good motel name like john smith - a newfoudlander not canadian, he thought that newfoundland should have joined the states in 1949. groaned. he then thought about it and agreed. the rough deal they got from canada wouldn't have been any easier and they would have a moron for a leader.

his friend bill england also wanted one. got his e-mail but it didn't take so headed back and got his son's. his wife - from fogo - had asked if i had been screeched yet. no don't much care for hard liquor. am a beer person.
-ah miller time bill said - flinched again.
-said that i liked beer. point taken.
mentioned quidi vidi and eric's red, they nodded in agreement and offered me one. tried to remember when this had happened in the land above mexico. when was the last time people had chatted when passing much less offer a beer.

headed in to saltwater chronicles as vicky hynds wanted to see what i was doing. left some books, headed down duckworth waved at ted in the barber shop. joked with lori in wordplay. sherry was already compiling the books that i want shipped back - wince when i have to give a u.s. address. answer more e-mail. make a date with jim and lori to head to grafenberg's at five.

down to eastern edge via the harbour - the bubble was quiet to-day . to gawk at the ocean liner that had docked. it was the tallest structure in st. john's. eastern edge to see if they have mix in yet. upstairs to st. michael's print shop to see about the possibility of having a study group come and if so could their space be used.

spoke to robert who was working again up there. mentioned that i had heard that his wife was heading over to twillingate for a day trip which may be a bit much - he should talk to angela. they are making it a weekend of it.

like the atmosphere of the workshop wish that i was a printmaker.

down to island beach ware to see if they found some sweatshirts for me. i buy them yearly as they are durable and take a great deal of abuse. the sales clerk recognised me and went looking. found three bought three. tried to make a snap of her but she said she wasn't photogenic.

back via arthur arthur to buy two samosa and a walk to the battery to do my " buy that not that, buy that " the houses were much improved - meaning that i couldn't afford them. the big clue was the house that used to have the pink white and green painted over the entire façade was now vinyl sided. passed albert sparked on the way but also passed hundreds of tourists so many that i put my camera away.

back to the craft centre to buy some letterpressed chapbooks to be posted again a wince when i gave the us address but a moral victory when i gave an island phone.

then i played at being the atget of st. john's swarving between the hotel newfoundland and the delta.

don't much like grafenberg's bad beer - it was two for one corona night complete with lime. they do have quidi vidi they may have sleeman's but no draught. all bottled, the place looks like a cheesy cocktail lounge, that could be in the lobby of a second rate hotel. walked down with jim and lori to meet mike. there was a realtor there who wants to sell me a place when i'm ready - yeah like that'll happen.

mike arrived i left. had my globe headed over to the duke - which was packed - for my two pints. the limit due to the drive back to pouch.

that little decision made me feel great. i like my evening sit reading the entire globe. it is my quiet time in the city and while i would like company i finally felt at ease enough to not want it at any means.

ninety minutes later headed back to grafenberg's to say good-bye to people whom i may not see before i leave. jen and dan had arrived they were awaiting a concert at lspu hall. not long after anne entered. sat and chatted a while but not drinking and staying seemed strange. headed back to pouch stopping at the dominion for tofu to fry.

the sky was read over conception bay so raced up bauline road passing the lit upper three island ball park and down into bauline where two people were playing basketball in the dark. was too late to see any red in the sky. bauline was much "improved" from last time more vinyl siding the house on the bay was sold. like the way bauline is nestled in between the mountains one road in and out.

when i arrived there were different shades of grey for the water the sky and the land around the bay.

a nice day where i felt more like a resident where i didn't feel like i had to fill my day. it comes with two days left.

Friday 11 July 2003

finally i slow down - more or less. in a budget busting day, bright skied windy day decided to do the irish loop afterall. wanted to get down to the area between st. peter's river and trepassey - an vast empty flattish landscape. have done it twice before twice - some parts three times - but there once it was in deep fog, once i was racing back to beat a snow storm and once was with a faulty camera

packed up everything, joãozão, ubaldo two dianas and 20 rolls of film. decided in the end not to take the transcanada as there is a part of greater st. john's that i seem to ignore - the shore from st. philips to holyrood. full tank of gasoline - wondered if i would make it back without having to refill it, headed down to torbay and took indian meal line over to the coast. by the ocean torbay is pretty, set in a valley in a cove, a church being the biggest building in the scene.

indian meal line was a long strip of subdivisioned type of houses with roads coming off of it to future subdivisions. followed construction vehicles the length of the road into portugal cove - again a note to one day take the ferry to bell island.

there was a house for sale overlooking conception bay and bell island. beside a tea house. snaked along route 41 through st. philip's nice, st. thomas, also nice. then into topsail and all the conception bay south communities. which were great for amenities - a large dominion competing with an equally large sobey's restaurants etc but more a suburb than the towns thati had been passing through. went this way to see where a photographer acquaintance lived in holyrood and in going this way it now meant that i had driven the coast around the entire avalon peninsula.

again ws noticing how many people of all ages were out walking and running, the passed a s.u.v. from alaska, photographing ball parks was a problem as they were all being used. owrked around that in holyrood as it was a day care centre using it so i documented the parts that they weren't and finally had all that i wanted. also photographed a day care worker and a kid's bandage from him falling off the bleachers.

did a lot of turning around as i would pass a place find it interesting and turn back this happened with the heavy machinery driving school along salmonier line. again at at a spring at times i would have to go a good kilometre beyond before i could turn the caravan around.

a sub theme of the day was closed conveniences, town halls and conveniences. there is a photographer scott walden who a couple of years ago had a show at the agnl of places that have been abandoned due to the resettlements of joey smallwood. he is now represented by christina parker and has a book out - envy seeps in slowly but surely.

the work is informative and quite beautiful speaking with others they seem to have more trouble with it than i do but it does tend to be more pretty than informing the social upheaval that time brought. think of people photographing weathered barns, rusting ploughs etc. he has abandoned houses that have slide down hills the roofs of churches coming out of the vegetation - the halls had collapsed?

all of a sudden saw my structures as places that were needed - they are in towns that are still viable - but closed. on my part it is curiosity as it doesn't seem to be for the reason one other places - the wal-mart out by the highway - there is no wal-mart. this is the highway. along route 90 there was a supermarket in st mary's and another in trepassey gas bars were even more rare.

a different culture along salmonier line. people having cottages on lakes and streams - gret for fishing i hear. the places are more secluded. than those along the ocean. there are trees.

stopped halfway down along hawcos pond to photograph some street furniture and a convenience. stopping there was also a sea plane and fake lighthouses. stopped again in salmonier and again in st. mary's where i photographed the town hall a crab grave yard - the gulls would drop the crabs from a height cracking the shells, then gutting them. didn't stop at the ball park - as there was a game going on and the madonna in the back of a van wasn't around.

am so behind in printing i think that i have a decent snap of the ball park in st. mary's from two times ago but wasn't sure as that was the time my joãozão was wonky.

photographed the church and church yard - six grave stones overlooking st.mary's bay and a plant - fish processing? yeah yeah back to the eternal problem of the typical tourist shot. i don't have to print it though.

was rejected in st. mary's. leaving town i pass a gas bar and two people wave. double back through town - i also saw some school buses - head up to them and said you waved i have to take your picture. both men embarrassed went into the garage shaking their heads and laughing. said that they didn't have to see them but no.

spent some time at point la haye and gaskiers. there is a stone beach with a light house - automated, not tourist. again astounded at how alone i was. was there for 30 minutes and only three cars passed. wind picked up was being blown about, photographed things left on the beach, the gravel the cliffs were sphagnum. headed to the light house to photograph the helipad - warning fog horn can sound at anytime. it can be damaging to hearing.

photographed clothes on the line overlooking the sea. photographed the garden og a meehan in point la haye - it was a city of wooden sculptures

wanted the gaskiers ball park as i know it didn't come out last time - a light leak created a band down the film - but it was filled with players.

certainly hope that these cameras hold up depended on joãozão this outing and it was worrying . last time there was no hint at anything being wrong until i developed the film. the bellows are gaffer taped making it something red green would be proud of. cannot fathom why i'm attracted to things that can cause trouble. trust my dianas more.

st. vincent-st. stephen's-peter's river was another goal. the maritime museum advertises restrooms on it hoardings - but i wanted to photograph the road that divides holyrood pond from the ocean. in newfoundland terms lake geneva would be a pond. where route 90 becomes route 10 there is a causeway with a kilometre long wooden windbreak and a sign that says that due to high seas the road may be at times impassable.

couldn't figure out a way to deal with the fence, but stopped on the route 10 side to photograph a snack kiosk that was closed and a pavilion in the sand with telescopes to watch whales.

a yound woman approached. she had been sitting behind a small fence separating the benches/picnic area from the beach. there was a blanket books. thought that she was trying to tan in the gale force winds. she was having people sign the guest book from the museum. signed and took some snaps of her.

this was the most crowded place i had been. three cars - nova scotia, ontario and mine. all minivans or s.u.v's hyundais seem to be popular. chatted with the guest book person a bit she told me a whale had been sighted in holyrood bay and the cliff to see it from.

wasn't a problem finding the cliff - there were six mini-vans with binoculared tilley hat wearing people staring out at the ocean. obviously the whales weren't hard to find either. photographed the whale watchers and headed east to trepassey.

ted from next door just ran over - he is out tending his garden and saw a humback whale in the cove. it's just below the house looking for capelin out in the ocean there is a school on the horizon - from time to time i see the blow holes. the one close in nia coming quite a bit out of the water. ted said that he has actually seen them jump. he's seen minke - me also - no killers he thinks that they are west coast only. there have been sharks. this one is feeding.

the moonscape was what i remembered also hoped to run into caribou - no luck , stopped twice to make some snaps of the land but had to be more careful left with 20 roll of film was now down to six and i wasn't half through.

reckoned on the way up to st. john's i wouldn't be making as many snaps but had to be careful. at the road to st. shott's took it even though it would add 28km to the ride and kill my budget even more. good choice saw the lighthouse that is for sale at cape pine - didn't head toward it as the road was pretty rutted.

snaps of wood piles reckoned that if i were to photograph laundry should also photograph wood piles, the fisheries building and a veg garden overlooking the ocean.

thought that trepassey had a tim horton's . was wrong. quite a few artists who have done the residency have places down here. stopped to photograph an arena thought about going to cape race - the land closest to the titanic site - but not for long a good 30 km of bad road. need my own car.

stopped in cappahayden where inland water starts to show up again . low marshes ponds, rivers. looked at a place in fermeuse that had potential and from there thought about which towns had possibilities for me.

at one time hated the irish loop especially the ocean side. witless bay was like bay bulls it takes forever to get out of st. john's. this time my view changed. could live in acquaforte , calvert, stopped in ferryland to photograph baltimore high school and the ball park on the cliff. cape broyle, brigus south, bauline east - photographed yet another ballpark with a view of the ocean - all had potential all weren't on the ocean but rather narrow coves that lead to the ocean cliffs and trees on both sides. mobile was nice also.

again crossing route 10 on the lakes side it was less crowded and more peaceful - everyone wanting to be on the ocean tors cove pond was so big it had waves and was nearly empty of housing.

the endless ride through the goulds, and kilbride hit pitt's drive to race to wordplay to post the blog - parked at the duke and was walking down duckworth when jim and anne were coming to me. they were heading to grafenberg's - ug - said that i was heading to the duke and would buy a round. ended up at the duke.

the usual talks anne hadn't seen pouch so a road trip to pouch and to see the school and have a visit with the pioneering mike all set up now in the kindergarten - laptop, external hard drive record player and digital camera. a drawing on the floor. the usual short visit of four hours leaving at midnight. the area teens were hanging out outside again.

the three were making plans for next week when more people will be here for the inauguration of the new residency. i won't be here.






it is mid july. i have been stoking the fireplace for the past two nights, i'm not alone heading out for an evening walk i can smell the burning wood in the air. forgot how much wood one can go through six logs last evening constantly filling the stove but also forgot how warm the stove and make the place. now i see why the half of the basement and all under the bedroom deck is filled with wood.

am settling into a ritual which sadly will end within a week. a pity as the flatrock soirée is coming up 1-3 august. up coffee, work on the website, down to bruce's for something to cook. back to work until either the library opens so that i can check e-mail or out for a walk around noon.

to-day down at bruce's finally found out who noelle was. she has been putting up the postcards in the shop, chatted then raced home to get the book of snaps to see if i did hear the names right. almost, cyril is actually sam - cyril is sam's son, i got albert correct, but not paul, found out dannie's name this can all be corrected for the show. made a snap of noelle - the fourth - she tore up the first one i made of her in 1999 and the clerk that was working at the time. it seems that she is now married to bruce who came back from brampton.

it rained and rained and rained, felt sorry for elke's friend inge who was still weed wacking the front garden. their dog even seemed miserable in the rain. i kept throwing logs on the fire and made decent headway on one of the sections of the website.

mike hansen - mikehansen.com - is up from toronto and is to be the first person to stay in the new residency at the elementary school. mike was the first person that i met the first time i was here as he was staying upstairs in the pipe house in 1999 spending christmas here with his partner avril and cam their son. he was skiing cape st. francis.

he - as is everyone - was impressed with martin and gabrielles, place considering the school doesn't have heat the toilets are down the hall as are the showers and he is in the kindergarden.

when the library opened checked e-mail, passed on some information to josh and erin and headed back to work some more.

sitting down i caught this black shape breaking the water in the cove. a whale it surfaced a couple of times. the next 30 minutes was spent trying to find it again.

headed into st. john's when the rain stopped to publish the blog order some books not so much can. lit. but nfld. lit. discussed my revelations with jim. working with that balance of place.

while we were chatting a woman and her tour mate come in looking for a phrase book for newfoundland english we both say the dictionary of newfoundland english - he doesn't carry it

-of course not you speak it she says.


bought a globe headed to the duke and had two pints while reading the paper. needed a tripod as i wanted to photograph at dusk but couldn't find one.

headed over to the school to see if mike needed anything - heat? a shower?

a lot of the local teens were hanging out there. thought that i owned the place. kept asking if i needed help as they were trying to break in.

mike is driving a volvo and has a power book. a lot of conversations has been around computers.

talked about buying property - again the idea of place. driving back from gander wondered why i couldn't buy on a lake someplace around here. it would be cheaper and just as beautiful but it wouldn't be on the ocean. walking back to the car there were a number of places in gower street with a view of the narrows from the top floor - but it is not on the water.

mike was thinking lake - the ocean is dangerous here and in accessible - he likes to swim. we both ruled out the irish loop but he would move to the west of the island wants the trees of cottage country and the black fly. couldn't take corner brook. no culture for me - little music, literature, visual art. i'd probably could deal with rocky harbour in gros morne. but i like pouch because there is st. john's down the road.

we both know of the lighthouse in trepassey that is still for sale.$5000 at the end of an unimproved road so $4000 to make the road ok for driving. i prefer bauline. hills the ocean. went exploring the school checked the doors and left.

bit off more than i can chew working here but still am doing more than i could have there.

before we start, erin part of the couple who is staying in the lower studio of the pipe house, graduate of queen's, has never heard of the s.a.i.c. yet another nail in the coffin of the office of the president. better still the globe and mail travel section for the 9 july has an article on the loop - the air institute isn't mentioned - well there is a pyrric victory they mention the gene siskel film centre so the 'tute's website is there - artic.edu. the cultural centre is written about, the archicenter also but the world's greatest school with the museum attached wasn't mentioned.

the culture day didn't hold any surprises but made me question the idea of sense of place. after a morning of working on the web site and looking for carol's fountain pen, headed over to the art gallery of newfoundland and labrador at the university.

it has closed for inventory pending the move to the abomination of a building that is wrecking the st. john's skyline - the rooms . (note to self on pretension) the rooms , the school. it won't open until july 2004. the agnl will no longer be part of memorial university -but now will be run by the province. the rooms over look downtown st. john's and one will be able to have their double skim mocha decaf lattè while overlooking the narrows, never mind that it is built on an archaeological site. that the basilica is dwarfed by it.

headed downtown - passing the rooms, published the blog was stunned by the news of josh and headed out to the galleries.

eastern edge part of the network of artist run spaces across the country - now the only one in the city as the province thought that one artist run space was enough and stopped funding the resource centre for the arts.

work refreshingly didn't have a shanty, cod flakes, multicoloured houses or outports. in fact the work really had nothing to do with the province at all. a sign of progress as it means that artists here are thinking of things that are more universal and not tied to stereotypes of place. ceramics - that at first i misread as metal - anthropomorphic shapes or industrialised quotidian objects.

sculptures of tables that were pure façadism.

large paintings - three person show.

up to st, michael's printshop that i believe, will let you use their facilities in exchange for a work made their. here among other works were object/scenes that were newfoundland - a john hartman of pouch cove for $400, prints of dories, icons of everyday life. but not stereotypical . a lot of the work had a sense of place but it was personalised not stereotyped.

around the corner to the leyton gallery which was a potpourri of works of all sorts. a majority i had seen at the crafts centre on saturday. books by anita desai the typical impastoed paintings of big sky and bigger waves. but also andrea cooper who deals with living in a big small town , and bill rose. there the tourist art shop.

into auntie crae's to buy a partridge berry loaf and a globe -they only had the globe - where i turned around and ran into jesses from the school - notes to oneself on pretension the school, the rooms.

pretty strange almost as strange as hearing my name called out in st. michael's printshop and realising that the person was robert who was in the upper studio at the pipe house. met him when sharon dragged me over.

the walk past the duke and through george street with its bars empty as it was only 3pm. past the now gone mile 0 of the transcanada highway at city hall up the hill to christina parker.

her is possibly the only gallery outside of jim's that actually worries about what the art looks like. she has the names of the province. people who have just done something important - scott walden and his resettlement series, pratt's - forgot which one -cinema sized photographs of the landscape. tara bryan who makes books as well as paints. grant boland.

99% of the work shown is like hopper like in it relation to the province. lots of images of gros morne. big skies. it was here that i came to wonder where the line is between what i see as tourist art versus what is art using one's surroundings. there are two painters there that use newfoundland iconography but as a result of living here. one whose name escapes me places ikons on a shelf - shell, rock, inukshuk and native plant in a glass of water reducing objects down to their associative meanings.

grant boland makes new iconography, a painting of the inside of the duke, the george street bar scene, etc. the rest make work that straddles that line.

finally the epitome of the tourist art gallery emma butler. haven't been here in a year and i don't think more than two paintings have been shifted. dark stomy nights, fishermen, folk tales illustrated christopher pratt, mary pratt, and barbara pratt wagansky. outport after outport after outport with nary a convenience or an irving gas bar to be seen.

became nervous as i mentioned it is hard not to be influenced by the landscape and dilapidated buildings are so picturesque it is part of the place but so are tim horton's, molson canadian maple leaf tops, irving and ultramar , where is the line drawn. to-day at saltwater books the clerk - vicky hynes- whose cd i listened to last night not knowing - talked about this in literature - her father hated the shipping news as it was all fishing - no it wasn't. as soon as i could discern the difference between lisa moore and joan clark, she stopped trying to sell me random passage and talked about writers who live in newfoundland and labrador. her cd was the same way of the province but not fishing songs that a great noise would parody.

earlier in the day i had met erin and josh who were staying in the pipe house and had just returned from camping along the irish loop. right now they were camping in pippy park overlooking st.john's. told them to meet me at the duke at six and i'd drive them north. had my samosas from authur authur. a pint while reading the globe and then we were off.

they stopped by later to do laundry and chat. travel, art,

-where is it that you work?





Wednesday 9 July 2003

a day that shakes up all. the usual chats in the morning, prepared everything to head into st. john's to do a culture walk. a.g.n.l., eastern edge, st. michael's print workshop, christina parker, emma bulter and what ever i find.

heading down allendale toward the centre the news is talking about a rash of break-ins around the city - not break-ins people climbing in through open windows to pick up laptops and money. there has also been some vandalism. crime comes to the rock i think.

head into wordplay to download the blog, and read my e-mails. they are listed most recent to older.

open aimée's something about feeling ill, panic phone calls and josh. close it and look further down to find one from tim with josh helson as a heading.

read it and am shocked by the death but thought it was a road accident.

re-read aimée's. think about emma berger and another death too soon. head out.

had just wondered about josh, it could have been wondering about diana cameras or the gameboy camera or some other piece of equipment barely suited for it use. thought he was in tennesee. he had given me a record of truly horrible newfoundland folk songs.

was in auntie crae's where i ran into jessie who was there with her family staying for a week in st. john's - how odd someone who worked downstairs from me in auntie crae's.

when i get back tim writes copying the story of what happened.

numbness becomes powerlessness and anger and who knows.

trying not to rant about the differences in the cultures - but when i told people i know up here, there was a an how horrible but with the implication of what do you expect from the states.

i'm pissed that josh is dead and would be if it were the car accident that i was thinking happened. that would be tragic but a twist of a sick fate.

this seems to have been preventable - gang crime, guns swerving car hits, kills josh. no preventable if there was intervention 10 minutes before the shootings but preventable if the lifestyle hadn't become ingrained in the culture. so ingrained that we don't even try to solve it anymore.

now it may truly be too late obviously for josh but also for future joshes. subcultures alienated, not feeling part of the whole, fending for themselves,

won't address the gun culture mentality as that is way down the list of factors that caused this. it is the dominant culture saying i got mine - good luck to the rest.

feel angry, upset, powerless confused. i also know that while josh was someone we knew, he is to most now just a statistic that daley, blagojovich and bush will use for or against some agenda and another incident bolstering the stereotype of the states.

when the day was finished, gave a lift back to pouch who were staying at the pipe house - erin and josh.

bye josh.

Tuesday 8 July 2003

bright and sunny but the radio was warning of thunderstorms, the walk got to me a bit as i awoke at 8am. after making coffee sat in the window to make a dent on the website. was pleased that - unbeknownst to me - i had finished a section but when i went to move it something went wrong and i had to rebuild it.

walked down to the library to see if they were open so that i could check my e-mail. they weren't opening until 7pm. leaving number 14 saw russell langmead's wife at the door . returned to get the partridge berry loaf and gave it to her wishing her a belated happy anniversary. russell came around from the back he was mowing hoping to beat the thunderstorms that wee due at dinner time. thanked him for the suggestion about the toad - but complained that there was a shorter way
- a yeah just by st.agnes.
ran into luke again and again mentioned that he didn't tell me that there was a less stressful way to make it to the toad.

on the way back from the library i climbed noseworthy's hill as i wanted to photograph the skateboard that said "not a crime". it was gone - kicked myself for not returning earlier but things tend to stay on the sideof the road for ever here - like the bike not 10 feet from where the skateboard was.

unlike the other houses around here the windows to the sea are almost floor to ceiling watched the play of light through the room. also kept staring as a fish table next door with rocks on it. the rocks are to hold it down in the wind here. have been making a snap of it since i got here, but didn't want to walk on the person's property he is usually there in the shed during the day, with his mates. to-day he was mowing and moving his boat out of the shed with his atv. headed over to ask his permission
- you can come over and take anything you want including me.
- you'll be sorry . i raced back to get joãozão.
he said that he would take the rocks of the table - it was a table to gut fish he showed me the the sink where they would be kept and what the different bumps on the table wee for. ted was a fisherman who stopped when the cod ended. he lives behind me and now drives a school bus. this explains the school bus that was parked on the loop in the winter during the blizzard year.

he was watching two dogs for a neighbour and had a "100 year old" beagle. in truth the dog was 20. took me into the shed where i again i was gobsmacked. there was the boat that he was building leaning against the far wall he was in the process of planing it.

shocked for i'm used to people watching television, mowing lawns and driving s.u.v.'s as hobbies and here was this person who doesn't fish anymore building a boat.

mentioned the proclivity of u.s. flags at henry langmead's place. ted said that it is a way of protesting the canadian government. why not the pink white and green of the republic? another set of issues. he thinking that i knew nothing of the province also brought up the union jack. it was then i mentioned good government and joey smallwood and history stopped and politics started.

calmed down enough to work again finish two parts and decided to conquer cape st. francis via the east coast trail. proper shoes, joãozão and a diana and a bottle of gatorade that malcom left. the sign said 5,9km. i reckoned two hours. passed the ball park north of town where there was a game going on.

i was expecting a rough trail but a trail none the less. it was nothing like those manicured trails that one finds in state parks, it wasn't cleared at times i was climbing over rocks going from one striped post to the next. at times the growth would be over the trail so that i couldn't see what i was walking on. but the views. turning the corner from pouch i could see conception bay and the next peninsula. climbing i saw all of pouch again this time from the north. the part of the trail was more like yesterday's walk - low scrub, rocks.

looking at the sky, dark clouds were moving in quite quickly saw the telegraph poles for the road to the cape and kept that in mind. then i heard thunder in the distance and decided to make for the road if i could find a way through. two attempts failed. finally saw a trail that broke off from the main one and took it as it looked like it headed to a rock quarry that i remember.

was in luck found the road - and luke with two friends one in a 4x4 the other with an atv. talked about the threat of rain. headed back they said that if it did storm they'd pick me up. it took me an hour to make it that far and 15 minutes to get back. back at the edge of town, stopped and look at the sky couldn't tell if the rain was coming or not. it would be frustrating if the rain bypassed the area. turning back would have been a mistake. kept staring - great cloud formations the forward group looked like a roger brown painting. then the hills started to disappear. then a band of white would separate the clouds from the hills. started walking home thinking that i would eat and start out again. this time joining the path where i met luke and friends. turned around once more to see this grey to black cloud not 500metres from me and decided to walk quickly. the rain had come big drops by the time i made it to the top of sulllivan's loop - a man in his window nodded as i passed.

the thunderstorm started a couple of minutes later.

more work on the website. until i hit a part that looked daunting and quit. headed to the library mistaken that the opening time was at 4pm. it still being early decided to conquer cape st. francis fully realising that it would be wet out. reckoned that i had done about a kilometre. figured that it would take about an hour.

the trail while beautiful was the hardest trail i have ever walked. i was constantly doubling back on myself using rocks to cross streams, going straight up only to come straight back down again. one moment i was on the shore the next far from it. as i had to go around a cove. the scenes were beautiful though. not the scrub and rock but now forested, was slipping on moose shit and hail - at first thought that it had been so cold here that some ice hadn't melted but came across a pile of golf ball sized ice and realised. later i spoke with a couple on a atv who said that it had hailed in the topsail road in mount pearl. thankfully no hail in pouch a dented car rental would be all that i needed.

i didn't feel like i was getting any closer to the goal. every time i was afforded a view to the north i saw nothing of biscayan bay. here there was no way to get to the road nor did i want to the sky was clear although it was about 10 degrees after the storm i was sweating. if there was any doubt on whether the merrills will be brought back there wasn't any more. merrills don't do well on the island in three years i had ruined three pairs of shoes.

the walk along the cliffs wasn't as treacherous as the walk in the wooded area. the roots that were hidden by low growth at one point the trail was the width of a foot on sphagnum that was sliding down the hill. i wondered how moose could negotiate the path. they are prolific little shitters though. finally gave up trying to dodge the scat and simply ploughed ahead.

finally saw a post for biscayan bay and felt better. a mistake as i then went on a climb to the highest point on the trail and back to rocks heading down there were switchbacks but finally. the trail was barely marked thought it intelligent that limbs had coloured ribbons on it. only later talking to a family on a atv did i realise that they were placed there by other walkers so they could find their way back. the father had mentioned another walk where i could see belle island and conception bay but it was boggy i should wear boots and take ribbons to find my way back.

came to the trail head walked down to the bay to photograph and "conquer" it. am astounded by the houses out here. the road is rocky and pitted - although greatly improved and the houses are in the woods not on the shore.

at the bay i looked up and the sky was low and grey - a mild panic. it was south of me but didn't know where. looked for a shanty that was open just in case and found two.

it was then when i met the family and asked if it were raining in pouch - no he said maybe bauline. it was decision time.

as it was getting cold i reckoned that the low clouds were more fog than rain. climbed out of biscayan cove and headed back on the road. stopped twice to make snaps. one of a couple on an atv who were looking for fox that came out each evening at the spot that they were - except to-night. the walk back took all of one hour even with the stops and the chats.

elke and inge are weeding and weed wacking the garden - pretty fruitless if you ask me.

headed over to the library but both internet spots were taken was too hungry to wait around headed over to bruce's to buy heinz tomato soup to finish off the rice and headed back.
sundays are days to go into st. john's parking is free everywhere. there was a time when i would drive in, wash my clothes at mighty whites. when they were done - washed not dried, clothes lines are free - i head over to the bagel with saturday's globe - the middle sections and have my samosa breakfast - samosa, two eggs fried and potatoes. i'd then do the galleries, agnl, craft council, when it was open the r.c.a. the day would end at the duke.

i got up early sunday to work on the web site and the blog, not remembering the hill i had taken chris and heidi, went around the corner to look at the street sign.
-don't you take my picture now. came out from the red shed on the corner of the main road and sullivan's loop.

-then you should have kept quiet and i wouldn't have known that you were in there. raced back to get joãozão and got back as they were coming out. they were russell langmead - the brother of henry whose house we were going to buy - and ted. thought this place is lousy with langmeads.

ted was in the process of repairing the roof when a scream came from across the road for him. russell told me a bit about the area. i now know everybody south of me in sullivan's loop and have spoken longer with russell than i have with all the good neighbours back in pleasant prairie.

he's been married 47 years last friday - would buy in a partridge berry loaf from auntie crae's. that he was born in elke's place and a good walk was to the top of the toad the tallest hill south of pouch - there is a great view from there he said. go in the meetinghouse - how appropriate - road it takes about an hour. he walks three miles a day - which i believe everyone except the teenagers walk all over.

we chatted again at his place as i passed for some reason. comparing the views around pouch. his isn’t bad but wonder why he moved his house to the back of the lot further from the ocean.

since i was out for a walk i headed north to the path to cape st. francis. didn't go far but far enough for me to want to try it. it held to the coast and not far out of pouch opened so i could see all of the town from the north. the coast isn't friendly here no beaches to be seen. i was a good 100 feet up with crags everywhere.

quite pleased with myself worked pretty well, had a light breakfast - coffee and partridge berry loaf from auntie crae's - packed up the bag with the cd's to be downloaded, jen's discs and headed into st. john's.

was cut off by an albertan - probably a newfoundlander with alberta plates where kenna's hill turns into king's bridge at empire. a rarety here - people don't use turn signals and a times drive like octogenarian floridians but aren't rude.

the plates made me realise that i'm not a newfoundlander. don't live in alberta, don't drive a dodge shadow or chevrolet cavalier and the car that i do drive isn't a powder blue.

stopped into wordplay - jim was in pouch - downloaded the blog with a little trouble forgot what l.s.p.u. stood for so ran down the street.

chatted with the clerk downstairs as i heard her recommending books on the province and non of them i had heard of - not arrogance but i was curious if what she recommended was more tourist fare. no not at all she simply recommends work that is about 20 years old. no lisa moore, michael crummey, stan dragland, no wayne johnston. she said her favourite book was death on the ice now out of print. funny i have yet to make her snap.

didn't want to spend money as funds are a bit low too early for the duke even though i had brought the globe with me - in a week i'll regret that i didn't make the most of the duke and had my fill of smithwick's. walked up to baird's place to give jen her discs arrived just in time to see her pick up her cat to catch flies by the window. stayed a bit chatted, watched jim tease a cat by making it dance for chicken. was surprised that it did the same for cherries. left as i wanted to get to auntie crae's, it wasn't raining and i wanted to be out. i was offered one of the six baseballs that made it into their back yard last evening.

took the long way back into town as st. john's despite its size is a great place for swarving, the tony houses along rennie's mill and carpasian roads - large lawns, gardens, trees. the row houses that south and west of monkstown road - houses to the street no trees, planter's boxes. saw how spoiled i was, why not live in st. john's great walking city, compact, at times one can see the harbour or better the narrows but so what it isn't that long of a walk .

how do you find mount pearl?
go west until you run out of taste.

woke up a bit depressed as time is flying by, the walk didn't make me feel any better as the nickel film and video festival starts at the l.s.p.u. the day that i leave as does another music fest. even pouch will become more interesting as the absentee owners along sullivan's loop, harold, martin and gabrielle, meaning that i would have to clear out, are coming over.

i also realised that how little i have used the plastic cameras - could this be the end of the line? to tell the truth i wanted to use them when i headed to st. shott's and while they are in my bag i realised that i haven't been bringing them out or rather bringing them out in due to a sense of guilt.

monkstown road, rawlins cross, queen's road, church hill, duckworth, mcbride's hill, water street would come back via mcmurdo's and the duke giving myself one last chance.

passed the place of one of the first people i photographed - he still had a sign out at munchkin eye level - let me paint your portrait. forgot that i wanted to walk the lanes and alleys between streets. i had brought ubaldo precisely for this.

am finding a strange pecking order for my cameras while i am here. perfer joãozão for portraits and photographs outside of cities am worried when i use him as half my images were ruined the last time i was here. the bellows are ducked taped to the extent that would make red green proud. they better hold up 90% of my portraits were with him.

ubaldo is great for cities as the square is perfect for dealing formally with space, eliminating diagonal kerbs and the like - he is great for low light and thus snaps made during meetings at the duke - joãozão's meter isn't realiable in low light. i do like how he collapses to the size of a paper back making him very easy to carry.

was back early enough in pouch to tackle the toad. it doesn't get dark until after nine. it was six. headed south when two teenagers said hello to me at the park by noseworthy's hill. had to make snap of them. in practice i am not as mercenary as it seems. i won't disrupt a conversation to make a snap - it is not a conceptual exercise - passed one of the people who pushed the car out of the pipe house drive during the winter of blizzards and have yet to take out the camera. we always chat.

one of the teens was luke elliott - jesse's brother. wondered what he looked like sharon had been talking about him. made the snap before i knew who he was. wondered what sharon would think. i photograph her other son and two months later he drowns.

the day before i got an e-mail from a person whose kids i photographed as they sold me lemonade. she thanked me for the snap and wished that she had called out a neighbour's kid to be in the picture, for only days later she drowned in a freak accident in a pool.

photographed luke with his friend kevin. he then dares this other person walking toward us to say something so i'll have to take his snap - stumpy. asked if i could get up to the toad via meeting house road. yes. takes about an hour? yes.

i head out.

am never on this side of pouch. the south side. there are possibilities property wise but only four or five houses maximum. climb the hill and turn up meeting house road. in a hundred yards it becomes gravel another hundred pitted then a trail.

i had started off with the toad to the south. now it was west of me as i headed out past a quarry - it was to the north. followed the atv tracks wished that it was august as i could have all the blue berries that i would want. rising out of pouch there were vistas - just about everywhere where the town disappeared. again i was surprised with the amount of water that was around. above the town there were ponds all over.
i was also surprised the trails that an atv could navigate one track seemed to be 45 degrees higher than the other. an hour and fifteen minutes later i was ready to make the last climb and it was a climb. straight up for about 100 yards. scrambling up sphagnum peat. didn't realise this until my shoes - which won't make the trip back south - stirred up the smell. also saw lichen - thought that it grew only on lionel train layouts .

not worrying about how i was going to get back down, the view was great from the summit. all of pouch. some of pouch cove line, a couple of ponds. i had debated whether to try it as it was threatening rain and didn't want to be caught out. the days usually start out bright and sunny then it clouds over - usually when i put out the wash. there is a brief shower then periods of sun and clouds. to-day it has been grey all day.

from the summit i also noticed a path that headed directly to the town centre. took it back stumbling down hill - remembered from when i walked in the winter of blizzards but after a while turned back as the path seemed to be a stream as i kept breaking ice with running water under neath.

i was back at the house within a half hour ready to work some more on the website and feeling so pleased with myself that i decided to do the east coast path to cape st. francis to-morrow.

Sunday 6 July 2003

UNLIKE THE GLOBE AND THE POST I PUBLISH ON SUNDAY
it is no wonder that clarence thomas is against affirmative action being a product of it he knows first hand the problems of hiring someone woefully under qualified for the position to which they are hired.

up before chris and heidi - whose magazine was highlighted in the saturday globe - to work on the website. i had done little on that. i have also done nothing yet preparing my intro to digital class in the autumn - don't care. the days have been full and haven't had the time. finished a good chunk and was going to head to chapters to look in the go live book to see if and how to convert everything to s.f.t.p.

when they awoke and had the amount of coffee needed and morning small talk, we had a walk about pouch. passed harold's place, the would be compound - the lower door open and ironically a u.s. flag flying - well cannot have everything. elke was busy with her bed and breakfast as people were coming and going. two ontarians stopped to ask where it was.

mauzy again the sky was flirting with rain, passed a walker who said she was searching for the sun. even with the drizzle and the haze walked up connor's hill to get a panorama of pouch. climbing we passed the woman, now at home, raking hr garden, who said that she had checked over there and the sum wasn't there either. that warranted a picture.

this time i have calmed down a bit in my discipline of photographing people. mainly because i don't want to have people running everything i arrive. it has also changed as i run into people more and more. i'm turning into the nan golden of newfoundland. people are hanging around a bit longer. malcolm and shelly, chris and heidi. they aren't any more definitive or decisive, they don't work better as portraits , there are just a more subtle.

descended noseworthy's hill headed over to look at the school then the studio to see it the person from queen's university was up to invite her for breakfast. she must have bonded with the people upstairs as no one was at home.

speaking of schools, again i don't know what the silver knight of the 'tute does when he promotes the school but yet another person who when hearing where i work hasn't a clue. i haven't been talking to the retired cod fishermen but to artists both from here and here meaning the ontarians who have gone to art school - o.c.a. etc. - and the states and so far only one person has heard of the school. so much for the best art school in north america, and their crackerjack recruiting drive.


chris made a few snaps of the pipe house and the rocks to the south, i made a few snaps of him and headed back via bruce's to buy eggs and juice for breakfast which was a frittata made from last night's pad thai. passing the town hall showed them the spot of the drownings.

saw them off they were heading to salvage to camp as they made their way across the island up the great northern to the ferry to set foot in labrador. try to keep the envy down.

i headed into st. john's with the rest of the wine, a bag of coffee for angela, a copy of toro for jim, and the blog. it is saturday i can park anyplace for as long as i want.

there was a low cloud over the harbour snaking through the narrows having the city float in an out of the fog. downtown super saturated in colour then a wall of varying whites and greys and no south side at all. the marconi tower was above it all, the battery gone.

traffic along route 20 is getting slower and slower, people were barely doing the speed limit. a horrible flash back buy the tim horton's in torbay road just north of the transcanada a supersized s.u.v. is heading north with a pair of giant u.s. flags flapping behind and a decal of another on the driver's side - they were from missouri.

passed angela and jen heading down prescott street. dropped off the blog and chatted a bit with jim to see how he was i was surprised that he was at wordplay. said as i was leaving go make fun of the tourists.

headed up duckworth - it was gift and post card buying day. ted doyle called me into the family barber shop. he wants me to sign the print i gave him. he said that he would feel strange having it in the shop it seemed to egotistical so he was donating it to the resource centre of the arts at the l.s.p.u. - longshoremen's protective union - hall so it can be hung there. the print signing will be tuesday.

not much luck in the gift area - i was looking for earrings for carol - nothing really new and the shop seems to have been taken over by fibre. i could have bought her earrings shaped liked the province… back down duckworth to water - passing, but not stopping into, the duke.

a mistake the choral festival was still on and the shops and pavements were packed with the groups. one teen from mississauga said ' i love this place - there is music everywhere' as a band of toy flute and kazoo players passed. decided to give this a pass and head to a less trafficked area.

needing the exercise, i walked to the chapters, in the drizzle, walking is better than driving, stopped to photograph the spaces between properties, in the more middle class area of the city, the highlandtown, bridgeport area. people were out on the steps socialising.

wandered chapters making a list of books to buy when i get back checked the quickstart manual for go live for s.f.t.p. links. nothing - this could be trouble. leaving it was pouring rain. the bus back to rawlins cross for the ride home.

on the descent into pouch a repeat of what i had seen earlier in st. john's
the village just under the clouds that were bisecting cape st. francis.

wish that i had guests tonight as my constant companion - cbc radio one, it leads me through the day the way radio four did in britain - is horrible saturday evenings with finkelman's 45 tonight the company would be even more welcome.


some newfoundland english words to describe w.
angishore
blear
gommil
omadhaun
oonshick
slieveen hence the pishogues
stunned

am spending the day in pouch to-morrow so no posting

Saturday 5 July 2003

there is a yank on the pouch cove town council - not me
it is nice to be able to head down into the basement to do laundry instead of driving over to torbay or to mighty whites in st. john's. both weren't much of a bother as i had a ritual. at martin's convenience, i would dump the clothes in and head down to stavanger drive to do food shopping and pick up the clothes on the way back. in st. john's i would head to the bagel for my weekly breakfast out eggs and samosa with an orange juice.

here i can work. ran down to bruce's for laundry detergent and met the person staying in the lower studio of the pipe house now that the people from massachusetts found it too much to bear and disappeared, not officially though - she was in front of me at bruce's and saw her cross the road.

on the way back saw that the library would be opening for a couple of hours so picked up my cd and headed back to make use of the computer.

heading back to the library one of the morning crowd was in his car - he had nodded my first pass by - with his lights on. made him aware of the fact and thus had to make his snap.

diane wasn't in but found out that the computer slots don't have a spot for cd-roms. checked e-mail. a woman from north of toronto was doing a bit of genealogy, she and the librarian looked at the book of triptychs that i had left there. smiled said hello and proceeded to help the woman with names of contacts in pouch of people that she could talk to.

laundry had me getting organised for the trip into st. john's to download the blog and post some letters. i have decided that the 15% that i save on the gst is worth it if i am going into the city anyway.

brought the wash up and took it out to hang on the line i'm sure the men in the shed to the north were having a ball watching me wrestle with sheets in the wind. made sure that all was well secure because it was quite blustery.

about twenty minutes later gave the men something more to talk about as after seeing the front window wet, i was racing outside to bring the laundry in the rain.

was so proud, i was going to hang out the wash, not use the dryer save some energy and do what people in proper suburbs cannot do. i was going to have my clothes dry over the north atlantic. now i was having my clothes dry by newfoundland power.

in my cheapness, i try to arrive in st. john's as close to 3pm as possible as i can park in gower street for the two hours and not have to move the car as two hour limit only goes to 5pm. i can do my errands without worrying about the time.

headed upstairs in wordplay to download osx - no such luck as it was for a g4 powerbook. not to worry things can be arranged. jen, seeing me says that i should head down to the duke now, jim has been there for a couple of hours with some artists. reckon that he'll be there a couple of hours more and i want to download the blog and post the cards.

that done i head to the post office turning down mcmurdo's lane and into the duke to say i'll be back. three hours and two pints later - the drive keeps me sober - i head to the post office that had closed 30 minutes before i arrived.

the dalliance at the duke was due to two artists in from toronto - chris and heidi. he a painter, she an editor for toro. they were way ahead of me in drinks and i was feeling a financial pinch - another reason for the moderation. they were camping across newfoundland. they looked at my work on the website work up i looked at her magazine thinking of people who could be interesting for her.

in the ensuing conversation they were invited back to the pipe house for dinner and a sleep over - she was going to bake bread and make a pad thai. while i was heading for the post office the went to a martini bar at the end of duckworth - grafenberg's - i'd meet them there before heading out.

saw angela heading into auntie crae's on the way over so stopped to have a chat on the way back.

auntie crae's was pretty much empty, no bread, no deli goods, you could tell that it was the end of the day. a discussion over coffee, looked for yeast for bread and when given a brick the size of - well a brick - decided to let them buy it.

didn't care much for grafenberg's. too slick, too techno. one of the double doors was open to the street and in it there was a piano. sat at the bar dance music playing we the only four in the place until more men our age came in then some older women - it seems that they have dinner theatre. definitely a duke person.

headed out soon after, passing ziggy's to get some chips - a pavlovian habit - walk home from pub need chips - they were closed, headed up mcmurdo's lane passing sue heading to the duke and headed out to pouch - forgetting to buy my globe.

for years driving along route 20 i felt intimidated as i was going maybe 10 above the limit and having car queue up behind me. now i cannot get up to the speed limit.

back at number 14, i made myself a cappuccino, cleaned up a bit washed more sheets, hung my still damp clothes on the line and awaited the arrival of jim, heidi and chris.

they were gob smacked by the location , view and the house. stood on the bedroom deck and looked up toward the would be compound, pointed out harold's place - whom they know . jim gave them a history of the construction of the house. when it was bought the only view of the ocean was through the bath and then it could only be seen if you stood up to pee. unloaded the food, heidi started cooking and baking, the rest started drinking. wine. my working class hero status has it so that i'm not keen on wine. discussions about art, pouch, can lit which go on until it is time to eat at about midnight.

at about 11pm we decide to invite the people who are in the pipe house up again - jim and chris had driven over to see if they were home. this time i walked over, 11pm isn't late here. law and order doesn't come on for another 30 minutes and late night with david letterman comes on at 1am. the house on the other side of sullivan's loop was still lit up when i went to bed at two. walking over the houses along main road were lit, people were chatting, one man was in his shed with friends. they were - however - except for one woman who was looking out at the road from her darkened house - sitting the in rooms furthest from the ocean. the only light on in the pipe house was coming from the bath in the upper studio. i reckoned that they all had either gone to sleep - the lower studio was pitch black - or were preparing to.
this was borne out when jim rang and heard a groggy voice on the other end.

felt a bit sorry for heidi having to cook all of this. the house was set up like a traditional house on the rock - well except that there is a view of the ocean. the entrance is though the kitchen which adjoins a large eating room so one can be sociable while meals are prepared. but the best view of the ocean is in the sitting room which is separated from the kitchen by a window - you can see the ocean but cannot be part of conversations.

angela showed up as we were sitting down to eat. it was to drive jim back to st. john's. i cleaned up and decided that maybe by morning my laundry would be dry.

Friday 4 July 2003

passing joey to get a gander at appleton.
THE POUCH COVE LIBRARY DOESN'T HAVE A CD SLOT SO NO DOWNLOAD YESTERDAY
they left only 10 minutes before me - a bit upset as they didn't know that there is no suck thing as umlimited mileage on the rock. here they were motoring on the transcanada to corner brook, a good 700 km away with a mileage allowance from hertz being 100 km/day. they were sick, what would that mean when they added the 160 km to gros morne and back.

i had to lock up, get my film, make sure that i had everything and then headed down route 20 to the transcanada. who cares if it cut through the middle of this vast nice park in st. john's you can hardly see it. sped pass mount pearl - left urban newfoundland behind. there was a copy inuit direction marker placed on the hill this side another on the opposite - i'll get it on the way back or when i head down to st. shott's. i don't have to race but i have to get to gander. 311 km be there in three hours. middle gull pond, ocean pond, dildo pond and arm. a stop at whitburne to pick up yet another map, speeding by the giant lobster in clarenville making a mental note to get a snap of the lone church across the northwest arm , am reminded to watch out for moose when a coyote races across the road just before terra nova. the greenery of the park, the pathetic caribou at gloverton irving gas bar. a stop at joey's look out wishing that i had stopped at gambo pond to photograph the erratics - it wouldn't be the last time. slow down slow down.

hoped that the ontarians would ask me to take their snap so that i would have an excuse to photograph them and their caravan convoy. one couldn't be all that bad the plate read A0A

stop at the city limits to photograph the silhouette of a concord - www.bigthings.ca - then the runway lights crossing the transcanada. found the art and culture centre with no problem, the trouble arose when she wasn't in and wasn't due until wednesday. so off to appleton, this side of green bay not to be confused with baie verte or bay de verde. but first a ball park complex off the airport road.

nice house it was rambling with all a lot of private areas, the grounds seemed nice and it looked like there was a green house. didn't get too much of a look as i was fending off two labradors - and two what looked like dachshunds - i guessed that they were snacks for the labradors. she and her husband greeted me, offered me a mug up - actually being british, the tea was in china - to the shock of her husband who had taken down his mug. we talked about the basket cased moron that is running the land above mexico and wondered if newfoundland would be far enough away if he won a second mandate. was told that bush pere comes to labrador to fish and last time sunk up to his chest in a bog - is bush fils shorter or taller than his father?

also shared gossip about the art crowd here on the rock. it seems that all my perceptions about certain people were correct.

the trip back was to see a different coast. it was 3pm i reckoned that i could be back to pouch by 9pm. i had forgot to give her the backing for the prints so stopped off at the culture centre. head out to the transcanada to find the route to musgrave harbour. 15 km down the road i realise i missed it but cannot figure out how. retrace my now expensive steps - it costs $50cdn to fill the caravan - another kerouac moment and fitting as radio one's paul kennedy was interviewing lawrence ferlinghetti and profiling city lights. find out that when i turned to get on the transcanada the road that led me to it was the one i was looking for, should have turned left but there was no marking. 120 through forests managed by the corner brook paper and pulp company. not looking at a map or worse seeing the mileage constraints - intend to make the loop through gambo back to the transcanada but if i had time, was rushing - slow down slow down - because i hear moose like to cross the road at dusk, i would have headed up to twillingate to have a look over the main tickle.

i realised what the flight plan was of the plane over the great northern, over baie verte, twillingate and fogo, bonavista, trinity, then conception bay into the airport. realised this when i saw the ice bergs that i had seen from the plane just outside hamilton sound.

instead of reaching a land's end and turning back - which may have been less miles did the kittiwake loop stopping in musgrave harbour due to a book that i read about the goodyears, photographed the ocean with canada post boxes in front of it had a mild case of the attack of the black fly. took the road along the sound stopping now and then to try to photograph the erratics, and the town hall.

was still racing too much as i missed a great deal of things - there is something about the response and sportiness of the dodge caravan that makes you want to take to the road and 120 and tackle any and all curves. because of this i missed a couple of good conveniences a few arenas.

has just passed the ultramar in new wes valley when the gasoline gauge light came on. this can cause a mild panic for heading down to cape st. mary's there were 43 gas bar-less kilometres between placentia and st bride's. stopped in hare bay at the ultramar to fill up. the station attendent spoke to me so his fate was sealed.

cruised through gambo trying to find a spot close enough to the river so that i could photograph more erratics . it was now early evening and at places the water was still reflecting the sky and clouds. tried to get to butt's pond but with no luck did photograph a house laden with lawn ornaments from all over north america. no cliché went untouched.

stopped at the joey smallwood interpretative centre to look for postcards bad statue in the joey smallwood museum which would cost a twonie to see so i gave it a pass.

by now i was frustrated, no time no money. it came to me that ideally i would like to link all the tourist loops slowly not making day trips but easing my way across the province i could have spent time in every village that i went through. i hated not being able to do a diversion - it isn't in my nature to do anything directly. i was close to fogo, wanted to see salvage - long a second syllable - shamblers cove looked interesting. i was now noticing that even though you cannot get any farther east than the area around st. john's you cannot get further isolated than these outports that, only recently, when the road was put in, became part of the whole and they are disappearing quickly. the new map doesn't have great harbour deep now that the outport decided to be relocated - it could only be reached by boat.

i would like to take the same time it used to take to get to these places. the populations in these places seemed to be placed on the land - thought model railway layout - rather than here in pouch where the houses seemed to be in it.

hitting the trans canada it was to be a straight shot back into st. john's but did stop for the giant lobster in clarenville. the irving near by. the lone church was impossible from where i was too much vegetation in the foreground - next time - my mantra. a stop at whitburne for the irving at dusk, it was 9:30 but still light the waning sun breaking through the clouds. i was thankful as i was wary of moose and away from cities the province is dark. wish that it was lighter so that i could have photographed the refineries at come-by-chance. when i was getting a bit tired of driving, the glow of mount pearl that appears then disappears. soon the lights of greater st. john's, pippy park, torbay road. one last stop at the irving in torbay to buy a globe - out - so a national post.
968.2km