How Does It Feel To Burn?

I’m full. Overfull, in fact… I feel as if I contain every emotion that it’s possible to feel, all at the same time. I’ve spent a lot of the last day or so in a free hotel room, writing and journaling and moving with some concentration to make some kind of relative sense out of everything that’s happening, has happened, and is about to happen.

It’s Been a While

Sorry.

Here’s what’s up:

I’m without a job right now, and I’m just about to head down Commercial Drive to canvass the local cafés for work. I only need two or three days a week to cover everything, and really that’s all I need and want, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult. I’ve also signed-up at an office temping agency, so hopefully that will yield a few days work.

Without boring you with too much detail, things in Vancouver (as far as the basics like accommodation and employment go) have not been very successful, ever since I arrived in September last year. It feels like I’m constantly trying to dig sideways and clear a path up to solid ground, and every few feet I get shoved deeper into this hole. In sum, it seems like Vancouver and I are just not resonating very well with each other, at this point in time. I am, simply, not feeling settled at all.

It’s not all bullshit, though—not by any stretch. I have made some amazing friends, plus I’ve been spending quite a lot of high-quality time with an intelligent, gorgeous and delightful woman, who, brilliantly, is named Randi. And, this continuous ‘digging’ has also led me into yet another re-evaluation of where I’m going and what I’m doing with my Life; basically, after feeling kind of stagnant for the last few months, I am once again feeling re-invigorated. Again, without boring you with the introspective details of how I got here, let me break it down for you…

[Cue thoughtful background string music, with montage of biological cellular growth and division]

Fresh Air, Fresh Eyes

The other day I was out on-site for work with Matakana assisting Rusty, one of the scaffies, to erect an 18x8ft cantilever platform eight floors above 2nd Avenue. This involved jamming six uprights between the floor and ceiling in a rectangle, then attaching three diagonally placed supports out into open space, connecting them with horizontal bars, and then placing plywood & aluminIum decks between those horizontals, creating the platform. (We were, of course, tethered to the structure for the duration by lanyards that can take 5000 pounds of weight.)

Having erected the platform, we were up there zap-strapping some capture-netting to the handrails to finish things off, when Rusty turned and said to me, “by the way mate, I s’pose this is as good a time as any to tell ya: this is the first time I’ve done a cantilever platform, eh.” He then emphasized his smiling pride in his handiwork by stomping loudly a couple of times on the platform with both feet, eight floors above six lanes of fast-moving traffic, and punctuating this demonstration of self-belief by stating rhetorically, with a wide grin, “pretty good job though, eh?”

fff

Just before we’d suspended ourselves out there in the chill winter afternoon air, I had taken my wallet out of my back pocket so that I could put on my harness and lanyard. If I’d kept it in my pocket, there was a good chance I would have lost it to that six lanes of traffic. I swear to the world that I chucked it into my backpack, well inside the building, but bugger me six times sideways if it isn’t bloody there now. While I didn’t lose any cash or credit cards, that wallet did contain my NZ driver’s licence, my Canadian social insurance card, and my NZ and Canadian bank cards. More of a hindrance than a catastrophe; still a pain in ze azz. Last time I lost a wallet was about ten years ago, when it got stolen while in D.C.

Anyway, earlier today on Sunday afternoon, I pulled on my grey wool jacket and turned the collar up. I put some polypropylene leggings on under my jeans, and fired a new DJ mix across to my mp3 player. I laced up my shoes and locked the door behind me, setting off down West 1st avenue to Clark Drive, turning south in the direction of Vancouver Community College, back towards the site where I last saw my wallet.

I noticed something as I rounded to corner onto Clark Drive, and the tall glass and steel and concrete monoliths of Vancouver piled proudly on the landscape before me, mantled majestically by snow-smeared, cedar-dotted mountains just a few miles north—strong ramparts about the keep. As I looked up to the iconic East Van Cross standing in the bright, crisp slanted sunlight, and watched the breath condense before my face in the cool air while the sounds of Alex Levin’s smooth, deep breakbeat warmed my ears and stimulated my senses under my chunky headphones, I felt something new—Something fresh. I stalked with hunched shoulders across the Skytrain overpass as two Millennium Line trains crossed paths beneath me, and as the padded bass pumped confidently in my brain, the steel bars in the bridge sidings made the sunlight strobe judderingly over me at a low angle and a high frequency… and I noticed that I was smiling to myself. I noticed that I am feeling Good.

The East Van Cross

Fire and Ashes

[Written in Calgary, Canada; July 12, 2010]

“Yesterday is ashes. Tomorrow is green wood. Only today does the fire burn brightly.“
~ Esquimo Proverb

You gotta deconstruct, to reconstruct.

One year ago on this date, Theresa and I split up.

Since then, everything in my life seems to have come around to the opposite point in its cycle, if not having come a full cycle…

It’s summer instead of winter. I’m in the opposite hemisphere, about to (re)begin a relationship instead of ending one.

I’m a fresh and mature evolution of myself on many levels compared with this time last year.

Toronto So Far

How was the flight? Long. ‘Nuff said.

How is Canada? Fucking cool. I’m diggin’ it.

Am I excited to see LadyM again? Fuck yeah. About three weeks and we’ll meet up again. Part of me really wants to just bolt across the country and grab her up in my arms, and at the same time there are people here I want to spend time with as well. Mmm, emotional conflict.

Am I missing NZ? As much as you’d expect. I’m not missing the winter weather, though, that’s for sure.

Am I being sober with my money? Not as much as I probably can; at the same time, I’m not blowing out. I’m safe.

What have I been up to? Well…