the post office didn’t think so being federal it was closed as was the town hall. i had waited around to send out some cards. i was also taking the evil twin down to the duke at 1pm and martin and gabrielle were in their place.
i was trying to juggle the day so that some work could be made.
am not good at being social so heading over to sullivan’s loop ran into reg,
which is fine haven’t seen him this year, and he was in his machine so the chat would be brief. he was having he same problems with the closings.the chats with russell are always brief unless shirley
is about as she will ask me in for tea actually met shirley as she was in russ’s shed with something for his new boat. russ was coming back from ted’s.
i simply wanted to pop in say hello and come back when it was dark but feel rude in doing so. i had told ange that i would be back but time got away from me. they seem to understand and i am off to...where to go. have two hours before the duke it now takes 30 minutes to get into st. john’s. i knew that it couldn’t be a grand wander, i wanted a ceremonial one. one that wasn’t giving in to the last day completely. thought about bay bulls as it is close and large enough for a decent walk. it would also on the way to the witless bay gravel pit park.
decided to make all the photographs around here that i had been putting off until later - the torbay bypass road. then i buying gifts. i had let it go as it is usually a sunday chore as parking is free in st. john’s on week-ends.
away a year and everything changes. shops move so often that i wonder how they keep clientelle, auntie crae’s still cannot find anyone to work sunday and monday. walked in a daze.
a good one, i was feeling at home in the capital again. i reckon that my estrangement had to do with all the small populations and large spaces that was the quotidian for until now. the last city this size that i was in was québec and i raced through it.
it was knowing how to get around, where to park for free, seeing places that if i had more time i would have frequented. it was reading the globe at hava java, buying the baguette at auntie crae’s, knowing not only the best toilets being able to enter a hotel for them without slowing down at all.
i wasn’t used to the crowds along water and duckworth streets - perhaps the reason that prefer winter - it was strange not to be able to buy bagels from the georgetown bakery - opens again after the regatta - third year now that i have missed them - not have the hair cut at the family barber shop - same reason. but it was nice to wander.
the action at the duke was as usual confounding the wait staff, sitting in clarke’s beach and trying to figure how many pints of guinness put you over the limit. i had to curtail even this as i did want to head out gravel pit park - meaning a full afternoon was merely two hours. the twin had an extra glass while he “read” my globe.
bought some gifts and headed out to the park.
it was decimated half the sites were empty i knew no one, i only saw two people. asked about tom and the family behind buddy’s lot. said that tom had already move out, and the family behind him the husband had died last year and the wife simply pulled up stakes. wished him the best and left wishing that i had come earlier, that i had followed up on this.
that set the theme for the rest of the afternoon, heavy fog over the avalon, i headed down bay bulls in the hopes that there may be some clearing by the time that i got there it has set and was thickening.
headed over to sullivan’s loop for drinks with gabrielle and martin, who had finished scrubbing the racks in the cooker. politics were in order as was the german language publishing world.
not wanting to overstay my welcome and not knowing when that would be i headed back to the pipe house for an evening of sorting through the digital files.
a knock -no one knocks here, or if you do you knock then walk in.
nothing.
i look at the evil twin and baffled
-answer it as me.
so be it.
buddy at the door - is jim in.
-i’m jim.
-no you’re not.
yes i am.
then the other jim.
there is no other jim.
buddy now is quite confused but invite him in sees the twin.
-that jim.
-oh my twin.
bafflement again.
yeah same mother except he got the white milk breast i got the chocolate.
i had been warned about buddy but the warnings weren’t enough.
it seems that buddy had come over to borrow something and to talk to the evil twin about art. he brought with him this great find a miniature row boat that he had found someplace and bought from this gent who makes them
-pity you didn’t simply talk to russ...
-who
-he lives in sullivan’s loop on the way to your place
show him russ he makes a not but seems unimpressed as russ labours over his boats buddy here seems to want a village idiot who churns them out.
he asks me what i do. he says that he is an artist trying to figure out what to do - apparently he came to it late in life.
ask him who interests him and he say marcel dzama - he then announces that he bought one some time ago for $25 canadian so he was in on the ground floor.
i thought you were interested in art not art futures.
that goes right by. but he is proud of his little deals.
-when the image is sold will you let marcel in on the profit?
-i’ll never sell it.
we try to show him the commodity aspect but he doesn’t see it.
-are you interested in others who work like him?
clueless.
he doesn’t read artists writings as they are inarticulate. we both do a double take.
didn’t you say you were an artist?
he likes to go to galleries to talk to the staff as they are in the know.
he doesn’t look at work in books nor on the internet but buys them and stares at them to understand what they work was about. he reads what gallerists and curators have to say about work for despite the list of artists who are articulate - which wouldn’t include him - on either count - he doesn’t believe us. he has seen artists and they cannot talk about their work.
he called the royal art lodge the winnepeg royal arts
in the end the night was ruined. buddy here was so dim and infuriating that i forgot to make his snap. i then realised what had happened. it was like when hiking in the alps one comes across a frozen hunter newly discovered due to a retreating glacier. he was a 1980’s yuppie thawed and brought back without notice of the time that had passed.
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