What is being missed

Took the trail to the Discovery Centre to drop off yesterday’s rushes, I take it as pretty soon walking through fields without a shot gun aimed at me will be a rarity. I take it as I can see the entire illage of Woody Point and I can pick out the houses and places of work of just about everyone. I choose the path to be between the Bonne Bay and the mountains. I choose the path so I don’t have to do the Newfoundland nod every five seconds – now even the RCMP are waving at me.

I was well on my way once again realising that this online daybook has fallen short due to the minutiae of what makes being here so enjoyable. Until now my favourite view was of Pouch when I descend the main road in the machine, there it is all of the city nestled under Cape St. Francis. Pouch, though, looks like a metropolis in comparison one has to pan the horizon to see it all.

Here is Woody point which it is – it cannot be more than an kilometre from one end to the other it is even narrower between the mountain and the bay. I can always take it all in.

Walking to the Centre – dressed incorrectly as it was cold at the house but here not 100metres away it is hot, there are micro climates within microclimates – I ran into Barb Daniels – the person who is in the other part of the duplex and a former Gros Morne artist in resident.

She stayed on afterward. We chatted about my frustration about the disconnect between Park Canada, the artists, the residents of Bonne Bay. I was given the background but what was strange here we were on a trail above a village that would fit into any sports complex in the land above Mexico, with room to spare and talking about art.

This happens all the time. I was down at the Seebreeze having my afternoon “tea” Labatt’s Light – no am mot proud of it but I don’t want a beer gut and I am not a Canadian placing Molson out of the equation. When I head out to be outside on a lovely day. I get this idea for a booklet so go crazy photographing around the bay.

A man who is fishing with his family sees me and comes over to talk
-where are you from?
-Baltimore the colony that took
-Up here as a tourist?
-No am actually working for the park, I’m the artist in residence.
-Where are you staying?
-In the blue duplex above the Heritage Theatre.
-Do you know Joe Dunphy?
Mouth falls open.

This is Art “Dick’ Dawes of Corner Brook who is a friend of Joe’s. I haven’t met Joe – that will happen in St. John’s – but we have been corresponding after he saw my snaps in the windows along Duckworth Street and wanted some photographs to go along with the book of poetry that he was trying to publish. A long chat on the pier for the Norris Point ferry while his family are catching Connors and throwing them back.

Earlier that day dropping off prints in Glenburnie and speaking with the owners of the Mountainside Bed and Breakfast – she had come to the lecture and liked the prints and I had photographed their daughter in the group photo of the photogram workshop.

She mentioned that someone saw my name and knew mutual friends in the states. (wonderful I thought).

It is meeting people from Trout River and asking if they are a Brake or a Crocker.

If Molson were to do an I AM NEWFOUNDLANDER campaign there would have to say “Why yes I do know the Alan Earle from Robert’s Arm and he is a nice guy”.

After dropping off prints, I walk the shore path into town to pick up milk and bread, Pete was in his shop, Elaine having coffee at Granite City, Dorothy waved as she drove by, Debbie was in the 3T’s