♦◊♦
Taken during break in poetry workshop—Wychcrest Ave., Toronto.
Author: carin
the sound of morning [aka: unplugged]
A man coughs, opens a car door.
VIA train whistle in the distance.
A small gathering of bird talk behind a house.
Tires on pavement, driver waves.
Front door opens, young boy stands on stoop. “The dump truck is still here!”
A woman in jeans and ballcap passes: “Morning!”
A woman leaves a house: “Thanks so much!” Gets into car. [Not sure, but I have the idea she just dropped off a child. Relief in her tone?]
A woman in Canadian flag toque comes out of house, blows her nose: “Morning!”
A door shuts on one side of the street.
On the other, a door opens, car unlocks with a beep, engine starts.
Further along, two young children, low-speaking, stand in driveway. Too quiet to hear what they say.
My footsteps.
wordless wednesday
slow tv
Very sad news.
Especially sad to lose Saturday Night at the Movies. After forty years and a tsunami of technology it seems that turning down the lights and putting one’s feet up and being content with whatever the film happens to be, and maybe it’s something you wouldn’t have chosen but you end up liking it anyway… is over.
Because now we have to have what we want when we want it and if, three seconds later, we’re bored with what we thought we wanted and want something else, we have to have that too.
Here is a sigh for the end of an era.
Sigh.
Popcorn will never be quite the same.
here there be deers
I’m pretty sure I heard deer rustling in the shrubbery at the creek this morning. I went early, drawn by the sky and maybe surprised them.
I know they’re there. I’ve seen hoof prints in winter and people occasionally report seeing them on lawns.
Always seems a bit strange—that something as beautiful as deer can be found in urban settings. Unsettling really. A reminder we’ve encroached on their space.
They come for the water, follow the creek from north of here where, despite best efforts of developers, it’s still pretty woodsy.
I saw them only once. Two winters ago a pair of white-tailed beauties leapt across the path where I walked and then into a copse of spruce.
I like how so much goes on here regardless of us. Coyotes, fox, rabbits, stray cats, wild apple trees. They all know what to do, they manage. Until they don’t.
Nothing here doesn’t have a purpose.
(the art of) wrapping up the season
wordless wednesday
living the metaphor
I recently ran away and joined the circus.
A metaphor, yes.
The intention was to get away from routine for a bit, let whimsy be my guide, fly through the air with the greatest of ease…
Then I googled the rules.
How to Run Away to the Circus:
Get into shape. To be a part of any circus, you should be highly capable physically. Before you join in the clowning about, practice your flexibility for a few months. If you’re interested in trapeze or aerial silk, make sure to stretch every day and practice flexibility exercises. Eat healthy foods, and stay as physically active as you can.
Choose an act. Circuses usually require auditions, and you should build a repertoire. Look into things like acrobatics, diabolo, unicycle, and trampolining. Once you’ve picked something to study, get equipment for it and begin practice. Build a bit of a show, perhaps with a theme for entertainment value, to attract possible employers and for use in auditions.
Find a good costume. Some performance attire can be revealing, tight-fitting, or simply wacky. Make sure you have the right costume for you, and that it fits your act. For example, you wouldn’t want long, flowing sleeves for fire dancing.
Make sure your makeup is pixel perfect. In the circus, you have to do everything yourself with no help from a makeup attendant. So purchase and collect your own makeup. Good things to use are shiny eyeshadow and diamond studs. If your show has a theme, play off of it. For example, a show based around fire might involve brightly colored makeup.
Practice your smile. Yours may vary based on your act and your own personality. Some performers may opt for a sexy, one-sided smile, but a friendly grin can also warm the hearts of your audience.
Consider the realities of circus life. The circus is a crowded environment by nature, and you may not have much time alone. If you can’t stand the thought, consider performing in another setting.
-—-
Turns out circus life [complete with clowns] is just like any other.
You have to pay attention.
Or you’ll fall off the trapeze.
Matilda Magtree 
