Saturday 25 December 2004

prequel

Pouch Cove - NL
A0A 3L0
29 September, 2003

Greetings,
I am applying for the Gros Morne Artist in Residence Programme.

When travelling through Terra Nova in early September, I felt disoriented. Looking at the great vistas and the macro cosmic scenes, I found that I was at a loss. I was racing to and from Gander and wish that I had more time.

I have a feeling that Gros Morne would have the same effect. I say "a feeling", as I like to approach an area with relative ignorance. I make as concrete as possible my feelings, prejudices and what I expect to encounter as I find that my work comes from the point where my notions are confronted with actuality. I also realised that the way that I come to terms with an area is to look at it micro cosmically. I plan to narrow my vision and look at the intimate rather than the infinite.

Thinking about the application this year, I have decided to take a bigger risk. I plan on bringing a 10x8 inch camera to increase the size of the images. Due to this, everything becomes exponentially more difficult. The basic outfit will weigh 20 kilos. I shall still use the studio as a "lightroom" the process that I shall use - platinotypes -doesn't need a darkroom. For some time I have been threatening to pursue a “slow” photography movement – not so much as a negation of the rapidly growing digital realm – I encourage this growth as it makes image making more accessible – but as an option, a way of not rushing when the world seems to be speeding up.

I have come to realise that I am a bookmaker and I like them intimate but for this residency, while I still want to make an artists book - hateful term - I would like the image to be of a size that they play with the intimacy of the images themselves. I want the images to communicate one to one with the viewer without them seeming like secrets.

When would I like to come? Ideally the months that I cannot due to my teaching commitments in the States - May, September and October. I feel that it when the most changes take place. Since I cannot come then, any other month would be fine. I'm not saying this from disillusionment but welcoming the unknown and belief in chance and the serendipitous. To be clear June and July are best. I have to return to teach the last week in August. I am not sure if you stick to calendar months. If not I am free the last week in May to the last week in August.

How long would I like to stay? All summer but again realistically, a month would be the ideal compromise for the sake of marital bliss.

I shall abide by all the guidelines. If I do venture into the backcountry, I shall make sure that I meet all requirements and provide my own supplies.

As for open studio time for the public, anytime that I am in the studio people are welcome. The processes are slow enough that it allows for chatting and the exchange of ideas, which is important in my working method. My curiosity is born from talks with people. As the process can be done in the light I am more accessible. I could lead workshops in -non darkroom photography - pinhole cameras, cyanotypes, and photograms - as well as book making.

Feeling that work is only valid when it gets a chance to communicate, and since I use a medium that can be infinitely reproduced, I am more than willing to donate a finished series to the Art Gallery of Newfoundland and Labrador.


Thanks again for looking at the packet. Again sorry for the length but I am fully aware of the risk that you have to take when inviting someone to be part of the residency and want you to have as honest an application as possible to make the decision.


If you need references people who know my work are
James Baird - jbaird@jamesbaird.com

R. Clarke-Davis
rc-d.com

P.S. The packet enclosed is made so that it doesn't have to be returned. They are pigmented inkjet prints and thus cheap and highly reproducible. It is an attempt to save you postage, please dispose of it when you are finished with it. There is no need to send it back.

Friday 24 December 2004

great pre christmas present

From: "Caroline Stone"
Subject: Gros Morne residency
Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 11:10:51 -0330



To R. Clarke-Davis. Hello. You are shortlisted to be one of the
artists in residence at Gros Morne National Park in the summer of 2005.
Pending logistical approval from Parks Canada, would the dates of
Tuesday, July 12 to Tuesday, August 16, 2005 suit you? I am out of
the office until January 5, so email back at your convenience and we'll
communicate in the New Year. Happy Holidays. Caroline Stone, Art
Gallery of Newfoundland and Labrador

Sunday 22 August 2004

after extra time

after extra time
after extra time,
originally uploaded by molequinho.


dave and undrea are recovering from the opening reception/party, baird is in montréal. – i guess. the gap between these blogs is due to trying to find a rhythm again. to be virginia wolfish about it a room of one’s own. had a ritual on the tock that worked, a place where the computer was kept – in the window overlooking the ocean – it was left on so when i came back at night after eating and finishing the parts of the paper i hadn’t read at the duke, or the as much as possible, if i didn’t go, before roughly 10pm when i would head over and start the blog for the next day.

there - with the sound of the ocean coming in through the window left open all day, lights of reflecting off the water and the occasional car heading up the main road to st. john’s i would write until about midnight. well more or less being a creature of the cbc i would try to do everything between ideas and northern lights – trying to ends things before between the covers went off. but usually northern lights would sign off before me. don’t know why i never got into the habit of switching over to radio 2. i know i missed some good programmes.

if for some reason i returned home after a night of debauchery of baird like proportions - the opening night and the evening of regatta day – i would move the i-book into the dining area onto the banquet table and write away there. the morning sun coming in off the ocean would make reading the screen difficult necessitating moving to a landlocked room.

being back i cannot seem to get into not only a new rhythm but am having trouble finding a place to write. this is being written outside on the front lawn in the waning light of peasant pissoir as the tim show has just started.

a disappointing week-end as we look forward to the tim show – the ritual washing of the car and boat the surveying of the lawn to see if it needs a mowing weeding and fertilising, the inspection of the façade of his house to see what work has to be done. to say that this bloke is one condom short of an orgy is too much praise.

he is now in the middle of the street – not on his pesticide laden grass - playing ball with his sons. since they are as great a baseball players as he is a thinker the ball goes into everyone’s garden giving them licence to trample on flowers and the like for the missed ball. there is a park two blocks away but my guess is that he would get lost trying to find his way back.

the other reason for having trouble finishing this is that in doing so another year has come to an end and i go into a metaphorical hibernation until sometime next summer – could press my luck and try for january…

am glad at my photographic decisions ubirajara with the two lenses and ubaldo were perfect companions. bringing ‘bira out of retirement when he served so well during the goldsmiths’ years proved the durability of hasselblads. it was good for the ability to focus closer than with ubaldo, am hoping that i made a nice series to send off to martin and gabrielle of number 14 using extreme close ups around their place.

glad though that i also took ubaldo – the lack of mirror bounce meant that i could shove it against my smithwicked bloated gut and gently press the shutter. without it i wouldn’t have been able to photograph outside cbtg’s, in the duke any evening work nor the skateboarders my last night there.

once again while not to the extent of 1999, the rock limited me but in doing so allowed me to experiment.

all my paranoia about film and exposure was just that – i forget how forgiving even black and white film is especially when developed in pyro. all negatives so far look problem free. nevertheless i know that the next time that i head up i will be a nervous wreck again worrying over the film and, with the cameras even older and more decrepit, reliability.

next time i have to figure a way of affording a duplicate set up of the printer and scanner i have for the rock – this should be no problem with the c.e.o. of halliburton type of salary we get at the world’s largest real estate developer/art school. that way i could develop the negs and make prints while there, thus alleviating my fear of ruined film. am making a mental note to conquer black and white digital printing without becoming a coneheaded technoweenie.

now that i know how to add images to the blog am not sure if it is a blessing or a curse but now want to do the road trip. using jim’s 3 megapixal canon would be fine for adding images to the blog. am not sure that i want them though. diverting my attention to find images that are blog worthy. this would destroy aimée’s robert frank image of me having it replaced by jack kerouac as i know mémère would be game – road trip and the rock she’d be at a.a.a. as we speak. driving would also allow me to leave duplicate photographic apparel that i have been accumulating.

in a postcard to kirk mentioned that next time i want to take a plate camera – what am i stupid? am not the type to make life and death photographic decisions in situ. think of all the people that i would miss – i almost do that now as i nod keep walking and do a buster keaton like turnaround to get their snap. cannot imagine wandering with a plate camera – although all this nonsense started with one and i am back to asking people to make their snap.

so thanks once again martin and gabrielle – www.gabriellealioth .com – 14 sullivan’s loop is the second best place to be in all of pouch – still like that slum of a pipe house in downtown pouch cove – thanks for making me feel right at home while there. one day we will meet on the rock.

thanks t.j. –www.wordplay.com/tjsplace - the saab was great. you were right, after a while i did come to ignore the check engine light and as i said the only time i missed the wireless was when the fisheries broadcast was on. back here i keep wanting to stick the key between the two seats and wonder why i am so low in the saturn.

thanks undrea for helping hang the show sending out, press releases and being so professional when i hadn’t a clue.

thanks ruth and peter for introducing me to a whole new set of people on the rock.

thanks st john’s international airport for being smart enough and have the good will to have free – newark take note - wireless internet throughout the airport. it meant that i could always post my blog while having my extra large double double from the tim’s that never closed also.

thanks jim and angela for always finding a place to put me up, allowing me to commandeer your computers, and sharing the cost of pints at the duke.

an all the people i met from the st john’s hogs in trepassey through the bloke on the bell island ferry whom i met again at the regatta to joe crocker and is yankee flag thanks for standing still.

bye daniel and will.


Friday 20 August 2004

pond pouch cove

pond pouch cove
pond pouch cove,
originally uploaded by molequinho.

kingman's-cove

kingman's-cove
kingman's-cove,
originally uploaded by molequinho.

Tuesday 17 August 2004

final innings

everyone in pouch is sleeping.
it is 3:30 i have packed gathered the rest of my coffee and the courgette. i have left the key to martin and gabrielle’s on the refrigerator and have shut the door. i am leaving even before the c.b.c. starts it programming – before the ode. henry won’t be up for 90 minutes.

i stop by the school to drop off the coffee and courgette – leave it on the kitchen table, turn down town circle – past bruce’s – the pronto pizza sign is lit as it the bathroom light in the pipe house. i feel like i am sneaking out.

the irving in torbay is closed, i don’t meet a car until stavenger drive – making the straightaway from shoe cove to flatrock a nice run.

the tim’s at the trans canada is open, an r.n.c. car is in the drive through.

the airport is just the opposite it is full. air canada has the usual queues as it seems that they have at least three flights leaving at the same time. included in this airline rush hour is jetsgo westjet and my continental flight.

there are only three people in the queue, i’ll be able to have my tim’s and get through security in no time i think. airport security asks if i want would mind a security check – no not at all. when he finds that i have only carry on he lets me go.

on continental – the boarding pass machine is broken so the woman has to handwrite them out. it takes 30 minutes to take care of us three.

as usual the lead lined bags throw them off. bomb residue test.

buy a post - the globe hasn’t arrived - check e-mail and wait. the sky is lightening the lights of the wal-mart are diminishing.

am pretty numb,

on the plane awaiting take off the numbness ends with an overly loud, new yawk accented know it all. a reason afterall to fly through toronto.

he is partnered with a newfoundlander who was brought up in conception bay south, and they may buy a place for them – good another reason to give cbs a pass.

showing his knowledge of the rock talking to other tourists.
- seen signal hill? seen cape spear? went out a whaling ship? then you have done it all
his other hot spots are jungle jim’s a bad chain of bars and chess’s but seems to only know one shop. pronounced brigus as brigeeze. said that orca was filmed in c.b.s. when it was filmed in petty harbour. discussed real estate with prices like $250 000
instead of the more reasonable $15 000 - $20 000 but then again conception bay south.

the flight attendant is a retired nypd – why do i want to know this, why do i care?
when we take off the flight goes directly west as if is it racing to get off island. look back to see signal hill, the narrows, and cape spear. we are flying over conception bay south.

lie back and think of yesterday.

walked over to bruce’s at 9am when i knew that the coffee crowd would be there.
finally talked to the man who bikes all over cape st. francis. chatted overlooking the stage. he bikes sometimes down to st.john’s
-do you belong? (are you from here?)
-live down in renee sullivan’s old place.
-ah

at the shop went in to convey my best wishes to bruce who was still on his honeymoon. outside joked a bit with henry talked about the soiree and asked about bruce’s wedding.
-should have come. he said.
-wasn’t invited.
-ah yeah you’re not up here all the time.chatted with hap and made a few photographs of the three.
headed over to the post office, then back to the house.
was sitting out front having my coffee waiting for the laundry to dry when sharon comes by.
-what time you leaving to-morrow?
-4am
-in the morning? will come back later to say good-bye.
really don’t want her to come back as i don’t want to be reminded of leaving.

head into st. john’s to post the blog and continue on to petty harbour to walk around a bit.i was hoping to beat ange to her computer but she was there, bought a cappuccino for her and a double double for me. returning from the tim’s run into ruth who is supposedly at her place writing her dissertation but instead has a bag from auntie crae’s. seeing the depression invites me to coffee – remind her of the paper and show her the two and nod to the gallery.
-stop by later.
-an interrupt the flow of creativity?

chatted when a friend of hers and jim came in.

judy stirling – miss – forgot what month – 1971 in playboy. says hello to ange heads into jim’s where he shows her my snaps – looking at the one that i took of jim she asks why do i insist on taking snaps of weird people.
-dunno as i proceed to photograph her.
at the time i knew nothing of this salient fact. she seemed to like the snaps said that she was a photographer and did i do landscapes. finally eh website came in handy.

gave me her card. her husband owns n.t.v., the herald and oz fm radio station. and mentioned that maybe we could work out something concerning my work.
-well i’m leaving to-morrow.

after she and jim left i went to ange to find the dirt on her it was then that i found out about her being a playmate.

walk down water street to the post office dylan roller blades by shouts out my name. shout back as she disappears around the bend by the downhomer.

drive out to petty harbour and park pretty far from peter and julia’s as i don’t want to be detected – the saab stands out. walk quickly by their place as the door is open even though the car isn’t there. the cabin looked closed.

well not really quickly as three mechanics said those two words and they were across from the house.

couldn’t stop now had to make their snap there was a little chat – they told me to photograph those in the garage. nope they didn’t speak to me. one was interested in the camera so i let him have a look.

headed up the hill that i drove up the day before. wanted a bit of petty harbour formalism. i did a bit walking from the car to the hill via the harbour. in truth they were more peopled pictures – snaps where people had been. on the hill it was the rock no parking sign with the water tower in the distance. an overly decorated garden and a homage to carl english.

the blueberries were the freshest yet.

back in town two vacant conveniences – one looked like it would work for a residence of a residency. headed back into town, hungry even after eating quite a few blueberries – but quite pleased with myself.

i had planned on going to the bagel for one last samosa breakfast. hadn’t been to pasta plus this time. parked in king street when i saw ms. england heading out of halliday’s convenience asked if she got the book from last year. yes great at least someone did.

as i was heading in angie and daniel were heading out to lunch joined them at the bar that only the day before i was deriding as it looked like their clientele were trying awfully hard to have a good time. forgot the name but it is an outdoor bar even in winter when they turn on these enormous space heaters.

it was a good chance to photograph daniel as he was leaving for calgary, he had been at the bookstore ever since i first came it was he – and will who is also leaving - that set up the hosting of my website. i didn’t want him in the shop don’t know how the table is going to look in the snap.

meal took forever to come overly sauced vegetable stir fry, angie seemed to like her pound of wings, daniel his burger – both agreed that the bubble was preferable to the coffee.

back at the gallery, headed out to wander georgetown to see if i could do something with it. tried to remember some places downtown that i had missed. saw jim’s volvo head down rennies mill road and yelled out see you sergeant.did the usual street by street up to the molson brewery – saw the rooms of agnl not so bad up close. still couldn’t really do anything with a lot of the area. the spaces between houses still were too close for me to work with. photographed the pub a closed conveniences, a few houses and the bakery

-my last tim’s – the only thing cotinental has going for it.

walking back behind ruth and peter’s decided not to stop in there was a dissertation to be written and there would be other times – i was hoping.

thinking back it had been a packed time – the regatta of seemed years in the past. it was odd to think that i hadn’t known some of these people for ages. wandered down prescott photographed a cat – yeah at times i go for clichés also – at the convenience. had my smoothie from stella’s and headed back to the gallery in time to say good-bye to will and photograph him – he mentioned that i might want to take off the lens cap - and tanya.

while awaiting the duke with jim deleted the rest of the 50 duplicate postings.

the duke was a sullen affair – he had things to do, i wasn’t going leave anytime soon and we are always there. he rang angie to see where she was. she came in with christina parker gave her an announcement before she went up to the front of the bar.

ed riche – rare birds - was also there holding court in the corner we usually sit in. went outside.

after long silences – jim and i had the usual discussion there is always a place for me. don’t be so reluctant to ask,
-yeah but i want my own place so that i don’t have to rely on the kindness of strangers
-i have done it for bigger jerks than you afterall you, hansen, bolduc, sonmor get it.
say good-bye and pull out the current to read and finish my pint.

head out to find a globe and in the meantime photograph the irving sign across the harbour.

head back in the duke and order a glass of smithwick’s read the globe and chat a bit with john asked if i had seen ray, no. bought him a birthday pint – about the fact that outskirts of st. john’s is turning into one big shopping mall. says at one time water street had three department stores – even the bay. john finished his pint and said he’d see me next time.

seeing the lights at st. pat's stopped for a couple of innings of the guards v. gonzaga vikings game

when it was time pulled out in carpasian road turned right at elizabeth.

drove back to pouch filling up at the irving in torbay still the cheapest gasoline prices.

as luck would have it the skateboarders were out. stopped the car –frightening the teenagers watching them – walked over and asked where they had been. also asked how long there were going to skate – as long as i liked. thought about going home and coming back but got the camera told them that i couldn’t get them in action but if they held really still maybe the light from the fire department would be enough. took quite a few in the hopes that neither any of them nor i moved. i can only hope.

left to the bafflement of the teenagers. when i returned to buy beer at bruce’s the area was empty the equipment gone and only one car left.

left a sixpack of canadian on henry’s porch

delivered a cheque to sharon from jim. had hoped to do it quietly and place it on the windscreen of the van but everydog in the neighbourhood started barking.

she said she was by earlier but thought maybe that i was staying in pouch no but i didn’t want to say good-bye
-so not good- bye and we hugged.
-give reg my best
walked down william’s hill back to the house.

Monday 16 August 2004

house and cabin

ruth is writing her dissertation. peter and julia are at their cabin. it is john’s birthday
to-day was a perfect day. perfect in that it was normal. finished reading the saturday papers listened to the sunday edition and headed into st. john’s photograph people that i hadn’t had the chance and to do the same with the irvings at elizabeth avenue and portugal cove road – i wanted to do it at dusk meaning that i would have to pace myself.

intellectually i knew that i was leaving – hence the mopping up exercises. i stopped at the pipe house to photograph dennis and renée, went to the ball park in red head road in flatrock, did the same with the go kart track in torbay road and the sign for bruce and noelle nearby.

was a bit tired so before heading into the gallery got my double double from tim’s.
the blog was a problem for some reason 50 identical entries were posted. knew that deleting 50 would waste a lot of the time i had left, but couldn’t leave it like that – gave myself a time limit and erased 25 odd versions.

ginina came by the gallery to pick up the battery for the digital camera and fell victim on the fire escapes steps – hand twitching the entire time.

told jim that maybe i’d see him at the duke later.

headed down to petty harbour again feeling pretty proud of myself as i knew the short cut through shea heights as i know the way to avoid all the bad intersections in town, and the rat runs through town.

knocked on peter and julia’s door. this time they were home and invited me in. i said that i - feeling it improper – didn’t make any snaps of them during the pot luck. i would like to do so before i leave. no problem.

again i liked their place – compact every space used and because it was so compact every space subtly delineated from the other. books art work and knick knacks all over. it was fitting as julia is a landscape architect who worked on the grand concourse in st. john’s and peter is a writer – a real one not the dean and deanette type of writer which in any sort of english that isn’t s.a.i.c. english would be called an editor in one case, a poseur in another. he started the writers alliance of newfoundland. he is also instrumental in the development of the east coast trail.
they were in flatrock and pouch yesterday – they know elke – julia is german – but elke also was in on the east coast trail.

sat around the house chatting a bit here is was about rock lit, crummey v johnstone. historical fiction v. romance. made a few snaps as this was strange to me. i usually have it happen but since i announced my intentions there was a bit of un ease.

i was also realising all the things that i will have to unlearn in two days. things like door open walk in. that one doesn’t have to ring first. i will have to remember not only to wind up the windows on the car but to lock it. the same with the house.

after sitting a bit they asked if i wanted to see the cabin? didn’t want to put them out but no bother, we would take two cars as they would stay.

got in followed the one way system through petty harbour – that caused problems as i saw quite a few potential newfoundland formalist situations – cross the bridge went up what i knew was a long cul-de-sac that didn’t lead into the country at all – thought that we were going to have to walk the east coast trail a bit to get to it. they stopped did a u turn and parked. we were maybe a kilometre from their house. i could see their house. they walked up to the beginning of the east coast trail into a house with a canada selects on it.

the cabin. better view than their house as it wasn’t penned in as their place in town was, up high one could see all the harbour and the ocean as well as maddox cove – great view but not up to my mother’s stringent standards as it wasn’t on the water and the ocean was framed by the cliffs on both sides. petty harbour is still an outport fishing community.

more open still small rooms, two bedrooms bath , living room kitchen they kept the television here. they do rent it out to tourists and use it when they have friends stay as their place is too cramped.

this was a close contestant to martin an gabrielle’s an urban equivalent, as one overlooked the town to the water but the deck ran the length of the building. east coast trail at the front door.

it was bought for $15 000.

here discussion turned to rampant capitalism societies based on fear rather than on trust. i had noticed in the past couple of days in photographing that children here still have the kind of childhood that i seem to remember – time wasn’t over regulated some risked were involved one could play out of sight of one’s parents again mentioned the cul-de-sac where – even though there is a playground a couple of blocks away everyone plays within sight of their house. in the end the art world on the rock. they had seen my work in gander. he wanted to know what my plans were with the images, besides filling the shelves in the basement.

similar interests as he photographed resettled communities which allowed me to trash scott walden and his unsettled book – yet again. peter worked with the people who were resettled again there was a poignant image of a man who knew just about everything about placentia bay and was waiting for historians to ask – old blind at the time. no one was interested.

we talked of the balance of beauty, the past with the contemporary which we both agreed was pretty hard to do - especially the beauty aspect. the are few places on the rock where one doesn’t stop and gawk.

he had a show in eastport – told him that i sent a packet the same time that i sent one to jane prior and heard nothing. told him of my experience with the agnl and the old curator suspicions again were confirmed.

took my leave to head back in town, it was duke of duckworth time. driving back i saw a potential image in new gower and springdale so parked the car at the duke and walked back. i then wandered springdale and george street looking for capital formalism.

what i found was – once off george street where people were desperately trying to look hip in the bars – tourists from a cruise ship that was in port – desperately trying to find a place to spend money on a sunday evening. they wandered up and down water at time trying doors. a few made it up to duckworth.

a bit peckish – auntie crae’s was sold out of everything. thought about the bagel café but even though i swore that i wouldn’t any more, had a big zig.

while waiting – chatted with a securitas security guard. again showing how perfectly normal the day was. started with the habitual lovely evening. yeah b’y but we could use a bit of rain. then we discussed the water shortage the low water level of ponds, the chance that they would use the pond beyond cochrane’s. we then moved over to the boondoggle of mile one stadium once the baby leafs leave, that québec junior hockey isn’t looking to expand. and even though last years championship between flatrock and (?) fill the place you cannot expect that to happen with local hockey. again felt like an true ex-pat so much so that i almost forgot to take his snap.

peeked into the duke and was relieved to find no jim as i wanted to say good-bye to peter and ruth as well as photograph the irving. waved to the bloke behind the bar and headed on.

down duckworth street to the hotel – cleanest toilets in the city, then up through bannerman park to knock on their door. being st. john’s the door was unlocked and open, being c.f.a.’s didn’t know if they adhered to the etiquette of allowing people to walk in. i knocked. no answer. knocked again. still no answer. looked at the sky and headed over to the irvings.

noted to myself that one of my initial images – two mormons – were made on this walk. there was a game at st. pat’s the ball park was crowded again, there was a softball game in bannerman park. wanted to have the luxury of having the evening pass at the game.

realised that i would arrive at the gasbar too early – way too early for dusk. it was now or never however so i worked with the low evening light having a self portrait with irving image. gasoline prices went up to-day as it was the 15th.

again felt like a resident of the avalon as i made a cynical image of a constuction site soon to be a generic building for assisted living with signal hill just over the hoardings.

wished that there was time to wander georgetown as wandering st. john’s on a sunday late afternoon/early evening is one of my favourite things to do. it is also nice at 1 am if the bloke isn’t brandishing a sword outside the museum in duckworth street.

my plan was to wander about the downtown and near west side seeing if i could do anything with capital formalism. maybe somehow incorporating the conveniences in the snaps.

another difference, sharon told me that at one time pouch cove had six conveniences 2000 people six conveniences. peasants pissoir has 15 000 and no food shops.

walking back i was prepared walk in knocked one more time peter heard me told them that i wanted their snap. it was too dark in the house now – although the kitchen would have been great. so we stood out on the front steps while i made a few snaps and chatted.

they had rung friday when i was writing the blog down by the town hall and me not being at home headed over to the duke to look for me. these hints of residency pleased me as did the fact that my circle of friends were now expanding from various sources. chatted quite a bit in the waning light. was invited up for a beer but ruth did have a thesis to write. said our good-byes and i set off.

severe depression hit. not a paul kennedy whelp but david marshak put on the dark glasses sadness.

the lights at the battery hotel were beginning to show, there was a drl coach full of tourists at restaurant 21 in queens and prescott. had two quintessential views of the city – looking down the length of gower street and at queen’s and chapel where one can see the narrows. headed over to the duke to read the sunday independent. the place was emptying i think that i saw annie from breakwater books. only john and marion stayed at the bar a golf tourney was on all three screens. got my smithwick’s and sat in my corner to go through the paper.

sundays are quiet at the duke, it seems to mirror what is going on outside.

john leaving came over to say hello, asked how long i was in town, said maybe he’d see me to-morrow.

it was duckish. one more thing i had planned on doing that will have to wait. sunset in bauline. clear sky in pouch without my eyes adjusting i feel like i can see into deep space, the north star is directly over head.

Sunday 15 August 2004

moose, caribou and hogs

a teen is outside jason’s window spying on the paining of a nude woman he is working on.
the cast;
moira resident of the upper pipe house instigator of the evening, dennis and renée, lower pipe house residents, from the school, don,david, carol, brenda, eva, and jason from the gallery jim, ange and undrea. reg and sharon from up the road.

walk over to the pipe house with my offering when i see jim’s volvo turn in coming from the school. it seems that everyone is there except undrea, drinks are being served in the upstairs studio dinner will be downstairs. sharon and reg’s car is outside also they brought labatt’s

look in the fridge and find nothing so check my pockets and head across to bruce’s henry is outside and laughs when he sees me.
-you’re everywhere.
-as are you.
tell him about the soiree at the pipe house but there isn’t any domestic beer. asks how many people are over there if he knows anyone and if it would be alright if he came over.

said that he knows a few of them – go back and take eva over to him who invites him in for a beer. i chat with him dinner is being served downstairs and we invite henry down to finish his beer down there. sits won’t eat as he has had his supper. but does talk to me and sharon and reg.

tells eva and carol about the free coffee at bruce’s in the morning and that bruce is marrying noelle to-morrow in the lions hall in shoe cove this was news to sharon. leaves early as he is up at five every morning and had to feed his cat. henry’s wife died last year and we reckon that he is at ends as to what to do.

sharon by the way asks if i am voting, yes for whom? not bush. she agrees but asks how anyone could vote for kerry. david agrees two bad choices.

david’ s dish is the favourite – i am told as there is fish in it. jim and ange brought sushi they had slaved over at the counter at dominion.

there were store bought blueberries – big and pretty tasteless. reg reckoned that they were off island someplace. here there are very sweet.

best story of the evening was sharon relating when she came head to head with a moose in torbay road around stavenger drive. traffic stopped, the moose is walking toward her toyota. the car in the opposite lane flashed his light to tell sharon to turn off hers. when she does the moose stops right in his path then starts walking up to her car and peers into the windscreen, then walks around to the passenger side sharon said that all she saw were these giant legs she was afraid of it walking over the car. it then goes around to the driver’s side and again looks in – i imagine the scene in jurassic park substituting the tyrannosaurus.

i sat out on the lower pipe house steps again the pipe house has the best view of the cove and the closest. wondered if the house for sale across the road would be all that bad.

the last planned marathon drive was slated for to-day, once again putting up the route 10 through witless bay so that i could head to cappahayden the barrens, to st. vincent’s as it i should have stopped last year, then up through salmonier and back down to on the cape shore loop to photograph in st. bride’s and patrick’s cove – home of dan england. the final stop was to be plaisance – the french capital then the race to the transcanada and back in time for the roughriders –stampeeders game at the duke.

planned on leaving at 9am took to bottles of frozen water, three bagels and ubirajara – left ubaldo at home – with both lenses. took a bag of film as i didn’t want to have to ration – last year i seem to remember running short. chose to head down route 10 first despite the frustrations of traffic as there were still places that i had forgot and while it is a bit slower – all the towns, the restricted speed would be more frustrating when my attention span had gone.

as i was ready to leave a panic call from the school, eva was to do a walk with friends in st. john’s to the spout in witless bay her lift into town was still dead to the world. i left 20 minutes later. in the land above mexico this would have thrown me into a tizzy, here the days are so long that it wasn’t that much of a bother. in truth i was putting off the departure time for all sorts of reason – wanting to see where michael enright’s place was on the island – salvage – as i found out listening to an interview with him on the morning programme. adding to the potential lexicon of newfoundland literature as again there have been two seminars with rock writers.

while i thought that i would race through fermeuse and start my snapping there i found that i had missed ice arena outside witless bay and i finally got the gigantic pipe line that winds its way down from the tors cove pond to the ocean.

next time i need a atv as i wanted to head out to the avalon wilderness preserve this giant area bigger than the peninsula from st. john’s north with ponds and mountains but is i good 50 km ride over very bad roads.

first bagel eaten between fermeuse and renews, encounter with two moose at burnt point as they passed the car in front of me.

i was in cappahayden, the frustration of having to creep along vanished but that brought over problems, i would see a potential images and would have passed the scene before it registered.

cappahayden is relatively flat marshland – peat bogs? – with nice organic shaped pools, i wanted to photograph a few with the space that has nothing to do with the shore. because the viewpoint would come up quickly and go i speeding by would mean backtracking quite a bit, i did make quite a few u turns.

in my earlier incarnations as an accidental newfoundlaner, i would have been quite reluctant to stop along the road, i’d look for wider verges or driveways. now i am acclimatised, i see something i stop.the roads are not so highly trafficked that it is a problem. i simply follow example of all the empty cars with no people about at all stopped along the route.

quite a few attempts at the perfect pool until it became mauzy not completely socking in the road but changing the landscape quite a bit. i was down at the tip not far from cape race – the closest landfall to the titanic, thought about heading there but again a long dirt road – atv time – had me think twice and decide to move on – the fog also had a lot to do with it.

photographed these lone cabins on the barrens overlooking ponds but not much of anything else. some were quite nice, the only lacking was electricity others were shacks the area before portugal cove south had some rolling hills to it so the outhouses did have either a pool or the distant mountains to look out on. beyond it was the moonscape of the barrens with little to focus on. my goal.

a few photographs in portugal cove south, newfoundland formalism, a mail box – for some reason and a closed and for sale snack bar on the breakwater protecting the town from the ocean.

stopped at the playground that i always stop at in biscay bay – again the mist some canvas trainers and another object on a table seemed to have potential as did the nicely painted changing rooms.

a diversion in biscay bay to see if i could find a volvo with tj’s tags on it wondering where david bolduc lives. no luck

a grave yard with a lone tombstone in it on the road outside trepassey.

the fog had burned off

dread trepassey due to the bay that one has to drive around. narrow at the mouth but widens as one gets further away from the ocean there is no bridge.

pass a swarm of motorcyclists outside a bed and breakfast. i stop to photograph a sign using homer simpson and then the convenience.

it is only there that it occurs to me, go up the street to the harley riders flash my drivers licence and ask to make snaps. seeing wisconsin i am fine. they are hogs from st. john’s who do this memorial ride every year. i guess that there were about 50 of them. they keep steering me to the bikes thinking that is what i want.

tell them that coming to the rock to photograph harleys is like heading to wisconsin to have a jigs dinner. they agree. still habit has it so that they move out of the way at times. chat with three or four of them – one of them seeing the saab says he knows t.j. we wish each other safe trip.

another minor theme has been the political signs left from the last general election, been trying to incorporate them in to the landscape. two potential ones but the best which could be an ikonic image was of the liberal candidate on a electric pole held up in the way they are down here – in a box of boulders - overlooking the barrens.

stop again at the road to st. shott’s decide to give it a pass as i have been there and i am wondering how i am going to get to patrick’s cove and branch. stopped at the overlook and made an effort to make a snap of the barrens with no object that could be construed as an object. i turned toward a body of water but it was too prominent so turned away. what is unique about this area is the want to find something to latch on to and finding nothing.

a couple were in a caravan he had binoculars she was sitting quietly. searched the horizon for caribou.

reading the sign there didn’t realise that st. shotts had resisted resettlement – good for them and that cape pine and its lighthouse was only 6km away.

i had been told that there is a house at the lighthouse for sale with magnificent views of the ocean on a cliff for next to nothing. had to see this.

it isn’t 6km to cape pine it is 15 along the type of road that i was trying to avoid. the scenery was beautiful i followed the electric lines and watched the ones to st shotts disappear in the distance. as i continue the fog returns it is at its densest as i stop in front of the lighthouse. true there were two houses – not cabins they were both in great shape. it would be no doubt that they could be had for a song considering the road i was on. an atv would be needed to go the distance to st. shotts to buy anything. couldn’t see the ocean the fog was so thick only a fog horn in the distance.

caribou are sunning themselves at a safe distance back on route 10.a stop in peter’s river slowed down for st tephen’s whales maybe nope.

park the car in st. vincents noticing that the snack caravan that used to be on the beach is gone. park close to people who are water skiing and tubing in holyrood pond in wet suits. walked about the town rife with newfoundland formalism, but as i leave the car someone says he has a camera. walk toward a functioning convenience to make a snap when again the voice says he is taking pictures.
-careful or i’ll take yours as i walk toward two girls in wetsuits and a boy in trunks.
ask if i am a tourist or if i live here.
professional tourist, one girl says she is the same she comes every summer the other lives in st. vincent’s the one who comes every summer lives up the road.
make snaps of the two girls when i notice that the boy is staying to the side. tell him to get into the snap he sort of refuses until the girls tell him to. he puts the towel on his hair trying to make a turban, and stands on the opposite side. i head back to the convenience – sign, laundry, flag. then as i reload film a car parks ruining the image. notice a chicago white sox sweatshirt hanging upside down. make a few snaps there and try to incorporate the two bell express vu satellite dishes into an interesting snap.

finally i head back to the car but yell out to the girls isn’t there a museum in town up the road but it is closed to-day. mention that i photographed someone who worked their last year.

-do you take a lot of photographs?
-yeah.
-why?
-who is the more insane here me making snaps or you in wetsuits trying to enjoy the water.
head up the road pass the museum photograph a graffitied rock outcropping and find the best ball park of the day. all foul balls would be hopeless lost in holyrood pond. the backstop is on the cliff.

while photographing an elderly couple pass in their car then return drive down the path and park by the picnic tables in the outfield.

second bagel eaten.

exchange information – asked if i am married to a newfoundlander i photograph them they offer me a big 8 cola as they have seemed to brought enough food for the harley crowd. the woman frets that she didn’t bring a table cloth. again wish each other a safe trip as i am heading north.

am find time wise but am afraid that the loop along the cape shore would be too much so branch and patrick’s cove is jettisoned – chagrin. this is a concrete manifestation of my impending exile. will take the dirt road from colinet to placentia.

stop in gaskiers to photograph yet another ball park that has escaped a decent depiction – one year it was due to that wanker of a so called repairman at photography at bald mountain in california that forgot to replace a baffle. three times a charm i hope. kids were just finishing a game. mothers were honking so that they could get home for supper.

gaskiers would hold potential for my mother’s place up here as it has a horizonless view of the ocean, is cheap it is two hours from st. john’s but an outport taxi is supposedly only $30. – it is $45 to pouch.

glad that i brought both lenses for ubirajara as passing the church in st. mary’s remembered the crab massacre in the church yard. it seems that gulls drop them from a height break the shells, and have a feast. with the extension rings on the normal lense photographed a few of the shells.

recognised places that i have photographed, stopped at the ball park in st. mary’s
another one that always has me stopping – nice adverts on the outfield wall.

pick up two hitchhikers on their way to st. john’s will take them as far as colinet. small talk but when i drop them off they fall victim to my camera. – bad lighting but on the verge i wasn’t going to direct. i can only hope.

wrong turn had me take a longer route than i should but again i allowed a new area to explore.

entered a driving mode – a pity but that means that i am getting tired forgetting my situation i made mental notes for future snaps.

a 22km drive along a dirt track to plaisance – sign stating the maximum speed being 60k/h laughable made barely 40. the odometer barely moved again a road with cabins off all sorts, cars parked everywhere but no one about. windows had to be shut when approaching cars passed the dust trail was hundreds of metres long. stopped at a hand painted memorial to a passed on horse done on an erratic.

placentia was a bit too strange for me to comes to grips with in the little time that i had. the skies had darkened threatening rain. the light was the equivalent to an hour before sunset. tried to make a snap from the boardwalk tried also to so something while riding around town. the only potential was a series of images dealing with the lift bridge and what was around it. on one side a forlorn lounge, on the other, a house with its laundry out.

sped back to st. john’s – remembering the dunville ball park – it is on the website as the potential home for the montréal expos right now –stopped at the irvings mainway in whitbourne junction rest stop and comfort station. then to the bairds to pick up the papers ange had bought for me and a quick guinness. she kept trying to offer me something to eat. i wanted to head back to pouch, post the blog and then head to the duke to watch the cfl game.

the good and bad thing about canada is that the media doesn’t run everything. the cfl isn’t like the nfl where the games are schedule for the east coast. the game between calgary and saskatchewan was scheduled for the people there, meaning that the 8pm start of the game would be 11:30 pm in newfoundland. gave it a pass.

again was conflicted as the baseball game at st pat’s seemed interesting.

passed the sign congratulating bruce and noelle from the staff of d&l on the torbay road just outside st. john’s


Saturday 14 August 2004

stung by a hornet on the ear while at the torbay road irving gasbar.

stung by a hornet on the ear while at the torbay road irving gasbar.
sam and percy are out chatting with the man in the car down by the town hall, henry has his case of canadian and is hanging outside of bruce’s a different set of sunglasses later i see that he is waiting for a lift back from bruce’s
-still at it eh. he laughs – i see you everywhere.
-then you must be everywhere also and also still at it.
i’m back from sullivan’s farm where i bought two courgettes $1,25. and was heading to bruce’s in the hopes of finding some dijon mustard. was also sizing up the boarded up house by bruce across from the pipe house. the view is not bad, tear out the entryway make a deck along the entire front of the house. and except for the noise along the main road…found only the yellow kind of mustard. feel strange asking for dijon in bruce’s. hand dannie a loonie. so much for trying to establish credibility as a cook.

moira is having a soiree – rhymes with sorry definitely not a soirée – and everyone is to bring a dish. it is easier when one only has to bring beer. it is so that all the residents can meet. jim and ange are coming up.

henry sees the mustard and asks if i have some dogs for that. mention two beagles up the road will they do? he laughs. he asks me if i knew john when he was at the pipe house? no he shows me the drawing of henry’s cup on the wall of bruce’s beside my snaps. he said that he and john would walk a bit and drink.

-around here? where? the satellite lounge is a bit far.
he pats his case of canadian.

i leave but wanted to ask if noelle ever got the calendar i sent so i return as i do a car pulls up with a dog in it. i point to the mustard and then to the dog. henry laughs again.

i say that i don’t see much of henry as he usually is at bruce’s when he opens in the morning, yeah the coffee he says.

have mixed feelings about the soiree, it is friday time is getting shorted it could have been a day of travel or compiling all these little things that i want to do instead i am trying to bake a flanish sort of pie from memory – thanks google.

went in to post the blog but ange’s computer had died. i guessed poorly again. the plan was to buy what i knew i could only get at dominion – rennetless organic president’s choice mozzarella, tomatoes and garlic – then head out to buy the rest in pouch.

took the long way to dominion headed out the t.c.h. to conception bay south and rambled back on highway 60. found the manuels river linear park which looked like a nice walk photographed the irving gas bar beside it and remembered that i hadn’t bought bagels in st. john’s

again one more area that i wish that i had time to explore, cbs and the towns around it are nightmarish – at one time small communities that are now being overwhelmed by their proximity to st. john’s. subdivisions are sprouting up everywhere. on one tolt there is a concrete water tower. older conveniences are closing community meeting places are falling into disarray all of this within sight of conception bay.

didn’t stop. it could be due to not really being in an ironic mood. made mental notes and consulted my mental schedule to see when i could fit this back in. sunday when i want to try to make decent snaps of georgetown – when back from the marathon trip to-morrow to the barrens and st. vincent, i’ll be happy to stay around the capital. but that is the evening that i shall want to try to document the gas bars at dusk. perhaps if i break it up into morning afternoon and evening…monday will be taken up in wrapping things up.

needing bagels i head back into st. john’s before buying what i’ll need for the soiree.

buying the courgettes i was brought a plastic bag with marrow sized courgettes two was more than enough tried to choose the smallest of the bunch. he jars his own pickles had some jams, the potatoes come from ted’s next door.

was worried that their taste would be compromised by the size but again i was wrong. sampling a piece i sliced it was very tasty ate half not believing that this is the same veg that they sell in markets. it was a shame to bake it.

walked about pouch while the pie – a layer of – preferably dijon mustard, a layer of mozzarella cheese, courgettes, tomatoes, sprinkled with olive oil and minced garlic – was baking.

met cuyler (sp) patrick corey hynds when he came up to ask who was i? he was on his bike heading up sullivan’s loop, i asked who he was and got his name wrong. which upset him. made his snap and we went opposite ways.

later walking down to the park by the town hall he was biking with beth ann and her kids when he abandoned them and latched on to me again. wanting to play with the laptop, wanting to see what i was writing, i was afraid that the battery life would go trying to keep up a conversation with him while writing.

the change of venue was in the hopes that the skateboarders would be out tonight and i could make snaps of them. being in sullivan’s loop is nice and quiet but it is isolated so i don’t know what is going on “in town”.

cuyler left and came back many times while i was here, again my south of the 49th mentality made me a bit nervous this kid who was so willing to give up all sorts of information to strangers – it was good that he went home and told his parents everything but again in the land above mexico i could see shocks of horror occurring in similar circumstances. the kids in the cul de dac in peasants pissoir are never out of sight of their parents. here cuyler is biking all over. so much p.p.’s loss.

i also may be creating a great faux pas. it is early evening and it is the time of transition between the older group – sam, percy, etc. who have probably gone home to supper and the teens who have started to do wheelies and cruise the ocean front before stopping and doing more or less the same thing the morning crowd does - sit in their cars and talk to each other. the main difference is the morning crowd looks out at the see the evening away from it.

i have a feeling that the late teens would chase away the young teens so it looks like i have missed them again – time is running out.

there are more birds on the ocean to-day . the rocks behind the town hall are filling up and quite a few are floating over the waves.

all the ambient sounds are intermingling – waves, tyres on gravel, gulls’ cries, muffled voices, wind, claxon.



Friday 13 August 2004

no samosas were harmed in the making of this blog – although many blueberries met their maker.

the people at the school are having dinner on the roof.

to-day was a normal day or what i would like a normal day to be. of course since it is so close to my leaving i was in a panic thinking that all days should be more significant.

as i was racing into town i passed jim racing to pouch. made a 360 –no problem on the roads here, to check to see if ange was at her desk yet.

hearing no, i raced into st. john’s could have gone more quickly if i weren’t following a car in which the driver and passenger were toking up. i get this whiff every once in a while of cannabis.

thinking i am going to take the mother road in a bit take it to portugal cove road and my usual parking spot in gower.

i am in a hurry but not so much that i cannot divert at rawlin’s cross to the georgetown bakery. in parking i am behind a person who is looking for yeast free bread, they sell wheat free bread and montréal bagels.

i have always hear of montréal bagels supposedly they put nyc bagels to shame. sheilagh rogers would gush over them as would mordicai richler. now i was going to have one.

looking over the shop i searched for the bagel of bagels and only found these misshapen things in baskets that looked like the bagel i used to make. couldn’t
be.

they were. ordered six plain bagels paid the $2.50 and left.

i thought they would be the moby dick of bagels humongous things that would weigh a ton. typical thinking prominent below the 49th.

i should have known better after having smaller fresh blueberries, and raspberries from the field that size isn’t important. i bit into it while i was driving down the monkstown road back to the gallery and almost had an accident. so tasty. i wolfed down two in the mile between the bakery and where i parked.

gave one to undrea and fearing that ange would be there left one on her desk. i couldn’t believe it they looked terrible – especially when one is used to factory everything, no two were alike but the taste. no hint of air no hint of chemicals i couldn’t stop.

i imagined myself giving up the life of a bayman and becoming a townie. if i lived in this area i would give up the view of the ocean but gain a great bakery, the duke, auntie craes when they haven’t run out of stock, i could have my samosa breakfast at the bagel, finally use the gift certificate to django’s and try the new afgan restaurant. if i moved downtown which would still be cheaper than peasants pissoir i could get a view of the narrows, signal hill and while it lasts – the bubble.

after posting the blog and heading over to tim’s with undrea, i headed out to butter pot park hoping to photograph the erratics that i had seen from the t.c.h.

took the old t.c.h. to the new t.c.h. to the off ramp. paid the $5.00 - $4.35 fee, 65¢
tax and asked the attendant how to get to the erratics.
-you must mean butter pot hill it is a 90 minute walk park next to space 53 and you’ll see the path.

it was a great walk, woods, wetlands, marsh, actually saw – and trampled on lichen, here on the rock you are actually walking on the earth’s plate, ponds, ponds and more ponds. this definitely wasn’t the east coast trail where at times it is hard to find the path. this was covered in the grey gravel that is everywhere. there were steps for the steep parts and when one couldn’t actually put down gravel boulders and smaller rocks segregated path from non path.

it was hot a bit of haze must be getting used to it as i carried on.

at the first look out i thought i hope that i am not heading up there. but i didn’t see the scenery that i saw from the road.

again i was alone, looking out all i saw of a peopled planet was newfoundland power lines in the distance and further than that the strip of the transcanada. kept rising until sure enough i was on the tolt with inukshuks leading the way. the goal was a giant pile of rocks that seemed to be made by everyone who made it added one. some were painted some had dates. even below the summit i could see the opposite side of conception bay, up to – i am guessing – brigus. saw holyrood, and its gas towers, the electric plant, bell island the bell island tickle portugal cove. behind me were woods and ponds. at the top it was even better.

obviously this wasn’t what i was looking for so to get even with the province, i started eating the blueberries – even tastier than those on the southern shore.

it was remarkable that on the trail i met no one a reminder on how empty the province is away from the capital and when off the avalon people are a rarity. back at the caravan park i only saw two people having lunch on their table.

headed west on the trans canada where i found the spot that i was looking for. parked on the verge a bit and went for a short walk to make snaps of the erratics strewn on the land.

following mike’s advice i took the witless bay line to see what was on it. it seemed like the type of road robert frank would travel when making the americans. at the transanada on ramp there was a full car park. further down in a field there was a caravan. further down the road there were cabins on the road for no reason that i could see – no ponds only bogs.

went to see what was for sale down the typical rocky road. a cabin complete with the door a good 2 metres off the ground. pass. no view simply secluded.

the high point was the caravan park where half of them were old buses, again in a landscape with no redeeming qualities.

drank a gallon of water at the north atlantic gas bar at route 10 as i braced myself for the return via the goulds.

it was time for the fisheries broadcast on radio one it is the only time that i miss the radio, thought that it would be more of a problem but with most of the people i know on holiday and programming in summer mode, i only crave the fisheries.

same trip as yesterday following yet again cars that were going 20 under the limit. this time i stopped at a closed convenience with a classic coke sign. in petty harbour knocked on peter and julia’s door. it seems that they have to work, no one home – but everything open.

this close to cape spear i had to make it as far east as possible, on the road saw signal hill and the entrance to the narrows found it hard to believe that st. john’s was so close. also wanted to find the spot where they filmed rare birds, the lot was there the building wasn’t.

best line of the day – so how far is terra nova 45 minutes? almost crashed again.
-translations
-u.s. so how far is boston from here in new york 45 minutes?
-rest of canada – so crossing manitoba takes what 45 minutes?

back in town with a globe but with the gallery still open went in to check e-mail – found the bagel that i had left for ange on her desk still - and see if jim was up for a pint.
left
asked undrea we headed for the grapevine – but not before i looked in at the duke.
again it was culture shock here was someone who actually had a work ethic someone who was trying to produce and thought about what she was producing. heard from jim that quite a few people at the school were actually making work and not making excuses for not making work or having grand designs for making work.

was invited to the combined david marshak opening party and the good luck in toronto party for andrea cooper next friday until she remembered

the best time of the evening was when perry – who must own or run the grapevine. produced this box that he was going to throw out. he gave a set of pencils left there to undrea and then went through everything else in the box – all clothing which all belonged to her including the black lace knickers. the mind boggles. have i been frequenting the wrong bar all this time?

showing the true sickness of artists here, she actually went back to her studio to work. i headed over to the duke – the quiet duke – roz behind the bar – someone who i think i know who it was being too noisy i got a pint and took out my globe to read.

convincing article on why not to vote for kerry, briefly who is he except not bush – and in his policies concerning iraq he is identical. how long is he going to live off past war glories – wait a minute i was against that war – and tell us what he is going to do.

i sense a slaughter of dukakis proportions.

note to self memorise the ode.

before heading back to pouch i headed over to jim and angela’s to yell at her. translating from the bayman it was more or less – you female out of wedlock dog, i know i missed your defecating party and i am sorry but what was wrong with the intercoursing bagel.

she hadn’t been in to the gallery at all to-day.
gave her a bagel – i ate the one i left her.
finished the last one just outside shoe cove.

Thursday 12 August 2004

fellow baltimoreans in aquaforte on the way back via mobile.

it is midnight thirty. over the ocean to-night while i write this are the perseid meteor showers.
the first people i met on the rock were mike and avril. it seemed that they were always heading back to toronto when i was arriving, but our paths would cross at the pipe house.

they would be up for christmas – mike has skied cape st. francis – i would arrive after the new year. last year i was here first ensconced at martin and gabrielle’s, he was the pioneer at the school staying in the kindergarten arriving a week later. he moved into the pipe house after i left.

so it seemed strange to be here and not run into them. when i left last year mike and av bought a house in kingman’s cove just outside fermeuse. it had belonged to ken reddy and they were about to pull it down for another shed when mike coughed up the $5000 for it. it is the last house in kingman’s before the east coast trail – again small world as peter gard who was at the get together at ruth and peter’s is instrumental in the development of the trail.

to-day was the day i went down to see the new digs.

of course i couldn’t do simply one thing per day. i headed – as it was on the way – to see if i could find my sunglasses at mun. no dice. headed over to the bookstore to get another mun sweatshirt.

stopped by the clerk the second time in i had been in before and saw what i wanted was going to wait until the last day – paul kennedy whelp here. decided that there was no time like the present went back to buy when she told me to check my bag.

-got $2000 worth of cameras in here.
-i’ll watch it
-why don’t you get the sweat shirt besides it is not a book bag it is a handbag – consider me gay.
-finally gave up raced ten feet from her got the sweat shirt and paid for it.

leaving i said
-congratulations in the six years i have been coming to the province it is you who have created my first unpleasant experience.
a minor gasp an attempt at an apology and finally said that she couldn’t explain.

on a roll i headed over to the office of the newfoundland quarterly, i parked in a place that is free for an hour and i was making the most of it. knocked on the door. no one answered when the floor receptionist came over and asked if she could help. i mentioned that i was trying to get in touch with the editor to get some copies of the quarterly as i had a snap in it.
-how many as she went for the keys
-five please.
-just let me get your name if she asks. i don’t know if i am supposed to do this but…
five issues later and time left i headed out to fermeuse.

the plan was to go via petty harbour to see where peter gard and julia live. it is nice when people’s address is the orange house after the convenience. i had also left for mike and av’s place knowing only that it was in kingman’s cove. reckoned that i would look for the tj’s place front number plate on a volvo or ask someone.

first mistake is one that i usually make. i need to get to the cape spear highway not the old transcanada. the cape spear highway is off water street, the old transcanada is gower street. i was on gower to avoid the mess that is always water street and kept going.

technically it is not a mistake as route 10 goes to the old t.c.h. but one has to endure kilbride and the goulds. everyone heads to the southern shore this way, and to make matters worse i was behind a constuction vehicle which barely went 30k/h.

i was saved by the goulds ball park which i felt compelled to photograph allowing the bottleneck to get someway ahead.

nevertheless the goulds is deadly. heading south along route 10 i remember the debate mike and av had when they were looking. – the same debate that i have wandering away from the ocean. pond or ocean.

mike wanted a pond as he could then swim - a bit hard in the north atlantic – boat and do other things in the water. av wanted the ocean.

on the west side of the road one could see why the choice could be hard. there was the st. john’s water supply – one of them – which seem larger than the city itself – funny there is a water shortage in the city at present people are asked to conserve water. funny because i am passing a series of ponds big enough to have a nice sunset on, where i cannot see all the shores. where people have bought and placed houses.
it is so tranquil compared to the ocean –un populated too. bay bulls and witless bay were metropolis when compared to the rare house or cabin on the ponds outside of town.

things became markedly better after witless bay. sped through mobile, thought about heading down to st. michaels and bauline south but thought that i would leave all this for the return trip, that and the vacant conveniences. thought that i was in maryland for a bit as after calvert , i sped through ferryland – the first baltimore. aquaforte always confuses me as i see the long inlet as going north south when it is east west. all along route 10 here there are these long inlets in which the road has to go around. mostly the road is on tops of hills, at some places there are look outs in aquaforte there is this peninsula of houses – about six in the middle of the cove.

stopped in at the convenience in fermeuse as the road to kingman’s cove was dirt on the tourist map. asked – she must have thought i was stupid as not 500 metres from the convenience was a giant sign.

one road in i was guessing what house it would be. i was looking for clues, volvo, a little rehab, overlooking the cove. was getting worried when i was running out of houses. at the last house before the east coast trail, there was a ratty volvo – which is newer than my saab – stopped walked around front and saw the tj’s plate. it was parked in front of a house with a new deck. found it.

typical newfoundland box but nice and compact, two bedrooms, and a bath on the upper floor,kitchen – the important area, study and dining area on the main floor – it directly above the cove.

knocked – something you don’t do in outport newfoundland you walk in unless there is a mop by the door – mike came invited me in. his sister and niece were finishing their moose burgers. said that i would walk a bit and come back.

they thought that i was going to do the trail i walked back to fermeuse saw two potential carl english homages and quite a bit of laundry.

after pouch the cove was like a big river there was an opposite shore – the water was calm i couldn’t see the harbour in fermeuse nor the one in port kirwen – ancestral land of the infamous ray fennelly – see last year’s blog – nor the open sea. it reminded me of the humber in corner brook but i think that the humber was wider.

again some newfoundland formalism. worked a bit with the sheds again shed that were half the size of martin and gabrielle.

a woman was sunbathing on her deck, half the houses were renovated the others left as they were. some major renovations were going on at the first house after the hill – which i found out was owned by two people from mississippi.

found out as the fatal – lovely day – were spoken by a man who was on his new deck in front of his new house having a canadian with his woman friend. made his photograph between the gratings on the deck she looked over the top. as i was bidding good bye he said that he’d like to see it if i came out. i said it you want to see it i have to make a better picture and came up on the deck. his friend went in the house and came out with a cold canadian for me.

so i came to meet barry tibbo of st. john’s and fermeuse. he was the one who told me about the mississippians, it was he who told me who had owned mike and av’s place and its history. a friend came up on an atv and i photographed him also.
barry is putting in a slip so that he won’t have to go into fermeuse to get his boat, they have a picnic table across the road on their property. they love it down here an hour out of st. john’s they escape summer and winter to this place.

chatted until my beer was finished and wished them good luck as i headed back to to mike and av’s who were probably looking for me.

not really av had headed up the trail to trix cove with mike’s sister and niece. he showed me the house and became jealous – am that way with anyone with property up here.

he had put $10000 in renovations in it. the new deck was one thing new doors and windows another.

we sat out on it and gossiped, talked about his radio programme, the goings on in pouch, the art world and his work. this i wasn’t used to an artist that not only is constantly producing but anxious to get back and make more.

what a pity i thought, few years at the ‘tute and he could be an artist without any of the mess of actually producing, he could talk about technology or constantly read second hand interpretations of theories about artwork. he gave me a cd of a piece he recorded and edited last year in pouch. showed me eight paintings that are part of the show at jim’s in november and the video he was working on. poor guy if he simply announced what he is plans and went into the difficulty of achieving them he wouldn’t have to produce as much.

i said that i was going to head out on the trail a bit to find av and the group also since he was mentioning all sorts of things that were around them – a ship wreck was one – i decided to see for myself.

walking i translated what i had been doing in pouch - except that the blueberries were already ripe and thus easier to pick and i had a choice of blueberry of raspberry, blueberries out raspberries back – no rasp out blue back – no whatever bush was next. found the usual ikons of habitation - wood piles but the best was a collapsed tent just before the path to trix cove.

ran into everyone there as they were heading back, av mentioned a better cove further on. this one went down to the water where there was a small beach. i could just see the open sea but it still looked tame. a good hike to the next cove passing a pretty nice cabin – mike and av’s neighbours the key was there i could have gone in mike said nice – wood stove well kept up.

the nice thing about east coast trail is that it doesn’t pander. no wood chips no markers every 100 yards, one slides down one side and clambers up the over. it is worth it. this time i couldn’t get down to the water but there was open sea to the right and the cove the left. i could just barely see port kirwan. found a perfect walking stick for the trek back.

stood and chatted a bit more with them telling me all these places that i should see. they were heading off to st. shotts and st. vincents to-morrow . i mentioned cape st mary’s bird sanctuary . they mentions this salmon run just outside aquaforte, the house of a painter in brigus south and that david alexander’s – one of the first artists to come to the rock – place was falling into disrepair much to the disgust of the neighbours.


headed north first stop port kirwan. where there as a church with a giant bolder on its property and two nice homages to carl. in the distance i heard – he’s taking pictures.

forgot exactly what av told me to look for next until i passed the bed and breakfast in aquaforte. turned around to the mini carpark and the salmon run.

walking down i went for my tom ridge but apparently left it the saab. met leroy and his friends – first baltimoreans up from ferryland - who were swimming and downing canadians in the pool. the spot was nice, falls on one side if it had rained there would be this high cascade i was told by all his friends, but now it was dry.

spoke about senior hockey to replace the baby leafs they play for the sourthern shore team.

leroy found dead salmon down the run further and all of them between heading in the water some have seen salmon leaping up stream – atlantic salmon are fierce jumpers b’y. went through quite a bit of film here and promised to send some images to leroy if they came out. was offered a canadian. declined and headed back to the car where i found the tom ridge hanging from a branch.

a walk along another part of the east coast trail, because i saw a wood pile and laundry both so so .

i also noticed that my supply was running low. i had three rolls left. i wanted to have one in case i got back to petty harbour and found peter and julia.

the ride back was a series of screeching stops and heading in reverse. the first was at the overlook in calvert where i thought that i saw a potential snap, but turned out to be not much of anything after all – how many pine clad cliffs can one see after all.

there was another car laden down with a bike and a canoe with nova scotia plates. there were on the edge looking down and out at the open sea. their dog – a mini something or other – the size of a small cat – raced over to me.

they were going to spend the night in trepassey told them about the salmon run. they thanked me and i was extra careful not to run over the dog when i headed to the other shore in calvert - two carl’s and a ball park.

the best potential snap didn’t turn out due to the light and position of the objects. it was a new construction – a big generic north american type – too big in comparison of what was around it - with a copy of the house as a doll’s house.

also stopped at the fisheries. fully aware of the film situation , i made a few more snaps of closed conveniences and a forlorn kiddie park between calvert and cape broyle. a unsupervised swimming pool – which was a dammed portion of the river. the edges were painted blue. the water was red with minerals and the bottom was rocky.

along it were two pair of abandoned toilets – talk about inconvenienced – complete with a fishing boat.

film is diminishing. one roll left as i enter brigus south. there is a house there owned by a painter that avril said that i should see as it is so compact and nice. also i wanted to see what david alexander’s place looked like. he almost bought a print of mine until he wised up.

brigus was compact few people – new rich houses on the hill, others dotting the slopes down to the harbour. the harbour completely protected no view of the ocean as there is a concourse out to a rock where there the ocean can be seen. very quiet the fishermen were in and organising their catch. people were walking their dogs or running. one man was feeding the ducks and geese. some sounded like they had asthma. quite a few baby ducks and geese that started to beg off me who every time i got close to the water’s edge.

place smelled constantly of fish. again the address of this person – moira? – was the colour of her house. found it with no problem but didn’t knock simply walked by twice stalking, looking in the front room was her studio everything was open as it always is up here. out to the ocean film ran out, light was running out.

the trip through bay bulls, witless bay and part of the goulds was worse now as i had not film only this endless part of the road when no one seems to make it to the speed limit. bay bulls seemed too big after the outports . nice sunset over bay bulls pond though.

wanted to head down witless bay line to butter pot park where mike said people camp on the boulders with nothing about them. wondered when/if there would be time to do the irish loop wanted to get to the barrens spend time between trepassey bay and st. mary’s bay. don’t see where there is time for that.

paul kennedy whelp

one day - yeah right this is another mantra – i would like to stop by the ponds and the wetlands just at the st. john’s municipal boundary. to night too dark and filmless.
irony here as saw peter going into his house in petty harbour.

thought about heading to cape spear to find the spot where they filmed rare birds but thought better of it – my stomach thought better of it. wanted a pint at the duke but hunger won out over thirst. passed through st. john’s. in pouch hoped to find the skateboarders as again time is running out.


Wednesday 11 August 2004

oh yeah, move with me baby!! oh yeah!! oh yeah!! make love to the camera.

ted is in his shed working on his boat, russell is looking at the potatoes by the shed.

just realised that these headings are a product of that great real estate conglomerate that tries to pass for an art school. i have become a product of my environment. pretty soon i’ll become pentecostal about the medium and blather on endlessly theorising in the manner a brobdinagian would in gulliver’s travels without ever feeling the need to actually make anything - photographic or other wise - at all.

after trying to put the place in order and actually see how much film i had left – ah think of the money i’ll save when i am converted – am in good shape have only gone through half of what i brought with me, i headed out into the wilds of pouch.

walked passed the school down strugnell’s marsh to head up the hill by the anglican cemetery. a few pouch cove formalist images of clothes lines and sheds. i just realised that everyone had a shed and some were quite well appointed. russell’s is pretty basic, he sits there in the morning. ted sullivan’s is packed with his boat and tools but he has at least four sheds. heading down the main road toward the town hall some of the sheds would be fine for me to stay in – they also have better views of the ocean than the houses. there was a shed in strugnell’s marsh that had a phone and i do believe had knotty pine walls with a nice chesterfield.

people were peering out of windows as i was making the snaps. i wave acknowledging that i am being watched. walked out of the paved road and onto the tracks – at first the wrong tracks but that was soon corrected.

the walk had a time limit, an hour out then head as i had a portrait session at one.
the theme of the day was going to be wood piles and other uses of the allotments in the woods behind pouch. i also wanted to find another part of the pond.

rephotographed some of what i did before as it was at dusk and i wanted to make sure that i would have something.

i have come to realise how much film i would save if i had a darkroom here.
wish list.
a darkroom - actually have duplicate stuff as i never through anything away it is merely finding property my shed could be a darkroom.
to be perfectly cross border a duplicate set of cameras. no more worries about airport security
scanner, printer
bicycle – if i had truly converted it would be an atv

the walk was as usual – choosing forks in the track at whim. finding not only wood piles but also places were people had left tyres, parts of cars – how do they get them up here and other objects no longer needed.

heading into st. john’s avoiding route 20 i went through outer cove and middle cove to logy bay. the area is becoming quite posh. rumours are rife that william hurt and j.lo have bought property in middle cove. what i also saw were old appliance grave yards all over. couldn’t get to them, couldn’t get a nice bucolic image of them as they were relatively hidden but there was a nice alternating between rusted out cars and washers.

am trying to photograph both the detritus and the wood piles equally as some people would see the cutting down of trees as a blotch on the environment. lovely day perfect temperature – some raspberries were out, the blueberries were far behind those on the way to the tolt.

perfect day light breeze so that walking didn’t soak my shirt. deep blue sky heightened by the clouds. the waning moon was still high in the sky.

didn’t find the pond, and while it was hard i did turn around at roughly an hour ok 90 minutes and headed back to pouch taking a different route.

arriving in town at the top of noseworthy’s hill was confronted with pouch surrealism. someone had placed all of their human lawn ornaments on those universal plastic chairs one gets from hardware shops. they were placed there as anchors from the wind but they did have a nice view of pouch and the ocean. a loaded laundry line was behind them.

more formalism this time including sheds.

just back from the kitchen where i caught a mouse in flagrante, it scurried behind the cooker.

trying to find a way down off the hill, took noseworthy’s lane which gave me a nice view of sullivans loop - which look like its own oasis in pouch - but no way down to it.
gave up walked back up noseworthy’s to new – unpaved - road then down connor’s hill.

ran into henry who was in his straw hat with this pouch cove 25 years sunglasses – i think that i left mine at m.u.n. so was decked out with my beloit snappers ball cap.

-still at it b’y?
-eternally
-where did you go?
told him
-must have seen everything b’y. what’s left?
-don’t know but you are still here and liking it…
-am 72
-see i have some to go then.
he then mentioned cape st. francis - done that
bauline – also
bell island – yep
i reminded him that he pushed me up the pipe house in 2001 when the neon was skidding on the ice. remembering that he laughed showed me his house and was off for dinner, via the shed.
arriving at the house to get the car and more film, i found a note on the door inviting me to a pot luck at the pipe house this friday. things are piling up.

ten minutes to go to shoe cove and for my first official portrait commission. cathy – russell’s daughter wanted me to photograph her daughter. arrived nervous as i don’t do portraits, tried to have her look at the website but like most of my stuff it was too circuitous for her or her husband.

her son alex told me to go around back where she had her hair salon. nice house, raised ranch type that one would find anyplace in fact it was at the end of the cul-de- sac, large television downstairs whirlpool bath.

she had plans to do it in the house – too dark no lighting equipment or knowledge,
went outside to see if there was a nice area as a backdrop. decided on the front deck as i wouldn’t have to look down on her and it was in the shade.

another gap in trust between here and the country above mexico. a friend of hers told her to put her in a halter top and underwear and photograph in the bath room – which was well lit.

could see the front page of the telegram now. north american kiddie porn ring works out of pouch cove – yank caught crossing border….

explained to her that it may not be the best type of image to make especially due to the paranoia in the states.

i was trying to calm down to remember everything, take off lens cape, make sure eyes are open, alyssa’s grin seemed forced. make her close her mouth. try to get everyone to relax, watch the background.

a roll and an half on the deck then a costume change and another on the lawn – they had a front lawn. alyssa was most comfortable strangling her stuffed dalmatian that she won at the regatta.

the snaps in the sun may not work too much contrast but i wanted the maple leaf across the street in the snap – but not the light pole directly behind her. tried to photograph up at her so that and hoped that the mountains in the background would make a nice backdrop.

that finished i was offered a cup of coffee by cathy. at first i refused as i had thought that i had things to do – you know things – but remember the woman who was crooked when i refused the coke in corner brook, i accepted. besides i didn’t have things to do.

a nice conversation ensued. alex was too cool to have his portrait made - 13 years old. both went to the school in pouch until it moved to shoe cove where alyssa goes, alex goes to a parochial school.

cathy was curious about photography brought out the tom ridge she called alex and he never left. played with the camera, played with the lightmeter.

by the way
due to dwindling funds and not being able to either sell buildings and/or alienate and fire staff, to make ends meet, i am selling a pentax digital spotmatic lightmeter which i stopped using when i got the sekonic. good working order $475cdn, $350us.

alex saw the saab asked what type of car it was when his mum said a saab he said cool. doubt that would have happened with the grand caravan of last year.

now making snaps was fine – a few of cathy while i was learning about the area – some of alex while we were comparing pets, he has a hamster and seemed to be grossed out by the pet rats i used to have, we both had terrapins but his didn’t run loose.

discussed why they had chosen not to live on the ocean – afterall she is a langmead even if her husband’s family is from the goulds – angishore. the cul de sac was quiet the view of the pine covered hills and shoe cove pond was nice and it was good for swimming and fishing.

thought of the cul-de-sac in peasants pissoir with the manic car washer –insert a paul kennedy whelp here.

she was one of the first on the scene when adam, a.j. and jesse, drowned. said that the stories in the news were wrong there were not skipping as it was slob ice, they were near shore when they fell in and the slob kept them in, that one person had jesse with a rope and in trying to pull him out broke his arm, it was then that jesse reached back to try to save another.

everyone feels that they should have done more. they – cathy, tony - were going to pick up their son from school and get ready for a trip to domenica when they were passing through pouch.

coffee finished i excused myself and headed back to pouch for walk two.

saw russell and ted sullivan
-your daughter broke my camera
-how much do i owe you?

ted wondered if i had vodka to go with the orange juice i had bought at the pharmacy.

when she mentioned shoe cove i thought the cove itself – everything is based on water with me. i went back to pick up more film and headed down to shoe cove driving to shoe cove road and walking toward pouch.

i had done a lot in winter once when i was here with the pinhole but stopped when i was slipping down the cliff. at the time all i saw were pines that went down into a valley on my side only to steeply rise on the other again i felt like those europeans – who were exploring the west. there was nothing but pines.

tried again in the blizzard of 2001 but stop when i stepped into a six foot snow bank.

i was ready this time. typical rough descent the track was also a water run in the spring. kept trying to see the bottom of the valley but all i saw were trees, finally turning a corner two cliffs rising with about 100 metres of ocean between them. completely secluded – as was proven by eternal love that was written on the rocks – i could barely see the islands off cape st. francis – forgot the tome ridge so no digital snaps for e-mails. the beach was rounded rocks – the type of striated rock that one picks up to take back with them. felt the urge then remembered.

sat for a bit then headed back up to do some of the east coast trail toward pouch – again an hour out then turn around.

not quite as many diverging tracks over here. walked then slowed to a crawl, first some remnants of raspberries but the blueberries while not in full bloom were out enough to not have to look to pick them. picked and ate pecks. at first i was happy to get a hand full and eat until they were finished. however they soon became so plentiful that i would gulp down a handful so that i could fill up again. turning a bend i heard what sounded like a car. it was. it was a mercury grand marquis type of car here on the east coast trail a man with a broken arm was driving it with another in the passenger’s side. i got out the way but they stopped.

you know the drill by now
lovely day yeah b’y.
asked how they drove here. was told they called it the killick trail, for some reason cape st. francis and the cabins up there. asked about the house – it looked like a house to me – by the pond behind pouch cove – they knew of it – and said it was a cabin. the man with the broken arm was quite deferential. said good-bye they said enjoy my stay and come back. chose a path that seemed to get closer to the coast, still gorging myself on blueberries, rounding a bend just about where the path stopped i could see pouch and an inlet that was a good 50 metre drop to the ocean. there were two of these and with the path ending…

retraced my steps to the land based fork – better blueberries until time was up,

retracing my steps to the car – i decided to first see where the two blokes had entered diamond road the last road before the descent into pouch – it is there where at night the town gets ready to be laid out in front of you as you wind down into town.

heading back they were still there. a quick chat again then they drove off as i made my way back to the car.

evening bit of shopping the canadian way as i went to zellers to buy a new pair of sunglasses. zellers bought out the kmarts – i think – and this one was within 500 metres of a wal-mart and a costco
the car park was empty the shop had more staff than customers and i only saw five staff people. no sunglasses that would be respectable outside of florida. i tried i thought as i headed over to the wal-mart car park.

saved as there was a canadian dollar shop – (pretty crappy) sunglasses had for $2.00.
this trip is still wal-mart free.

a good drive home route 20 was empty and for the first time this visit did 100k/h on the flatrock/shoe cove straightaway .