Blog # 174...February, 2026

Well, we've taken a bite of the new year, bittersweet so far,  predictables and surprising, many elephants lumbering around the room, keeping me awake at night...business as usual.

I mentioned, Hope in Action, last month and I'm now reading it. I've always been interested in Finland, visited a number of times and had some long term close friends there. I've been struck by some similarities to Canada, two official languages, many lakes and forests and northern regions  stretching to the Arctic. They also share a long border with a large super power, theirs took Karelia, a large chunk of their land in 1942, ours is threatening. Reading Sanna Marin's memoir has given me a totally new look at the country from the inside and helped put some hope in action myself.  

Sanna became Prime Minister of Finland in 2019, at the age of 34, bringing together a coalition government with 5 parties, Left, Right , Centre, Green and Swedish, all led by women, all but one under 40. She's open about being raised by a single mother in a same sex relationship, surrounded by the LGBT community,  Her memoir tracks her involvement from an early age and includes many candid looks at the political process, both inside her country and in the many EU agencies and committees on which she served. I'm loving it.

Politics and hockey are both pretty hyper masculine settings and it's comforting to see some push back against the two sex only rules being enacted south of our border. The TV series, Heated Rivalry, has attracted huge audiences around the world, in communities both straight and gay, sports loving and not so much. I'm lacking the equipment to see it, but will figure something out to deal with that.

Watching the world spin into disorder sometimes seems like some cruel version of whack a mole (not to be confused with guac a mole which is delicious).   Ukraine, Gaza. Sudan, Venezuela, Iran, and othe troubled spots, not to mention Minneapolis! Two speeches in Davos, ours and theirs.  And Greenland, which evokes memories for me, not just from a few days spent there but from Peter Hoeg's 1964 novel,  Smila's Sense of Snow. A young indigenous woman from Greenland struggles with life in Copenhagen. We're not the only people with a history of treating our first nations brothers and sisters badly  

In the Cree language, when they ask someone's age, it translates as,"How many winters do you have?:  The National Gallery, as well as stirring up political scandal,  has been busy putting up, Winter Art, a vast and ambitious show featuring artists from around the world...Kurelek to Kandinsky, Monet to Monkman. I'm planning a trip to Ottawa in February, so I will tell you all about it in March. In the meantime, Katherine May’s book, Wintering, offers rest and retreat in difficult times..

 Blog # 173...January 2026

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Some things that made me happy in 2025:                                                       

Hearing an interview with Sanna Marin who at 34 became leader of the Social  Democrats and Prime Minister of Finland in 2019. She led her country through COVID and their application to NATO, resigning in 2023 to write Hope in Action,  a memoir of her time in office...it's on my reservation list at the TPL.                        

Discovering Patti Smith, a punk rock musician as far as I knew, is actually a fascinating, curious person of substance. She's widely read and travelled from Tokyo to Tangier, Berlin to Broadway. She's sought after to appear in such widely diverse corners  as the Continental Drift Club who honour the work of Alfred Wegener, and Casa Azul, the home of artists Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. I've read M Train, one of her memoirs and am heading for others.                                              

Remembering Oliver Sacks and liking him even more after reading the revealing profile  in the New Yorker.  

Amassing a collection of authors whose work is available on audio books, Colm Toibin, Susan Orlean, Barbara Kingsolver, Jonathan Kellerman. I've grown to love audiobooks, many people like to listen while they drive, work out or run, for me it's replacing my failing eyes. Being read to is also comfortingly regressive and relaxing, no need to hold a book and turn pages.

Reading biographies, which I've mentioned before, lets me in on the lives of people I've never met, but who have caught my interest. Something in their experiences may resonate with mine, or not. I'm also liking getting to know recurring characters in crime fiction, like Alex Delaware, a psychologist who collaborates with Lieutenant Milo Sturgess solving LA homicides. It's a bit like spending time with old friends in a one-sided way, I can sort of see the appeal of AI connections.   

I'm trying to expand my view of Canada and the world and love thinking of the music going on in Powell River, the BC town that struggles to survive the closing of the paper mill a couple of years ago. Luckily there was music established there already, and it was aided by Dutch cellist Arthur Arnold who left his position as Music Director of the Moscow Symphony when Russia invaded Ukraine. He's doing great things in this small vibrant community.

I was thrilled to hear that Dave Bidini, founder and editor of the West End Phoenix. a community newspaper in Toronto, and  the Rheostatics celebrated the band's 45th anniversary with The Great Lakes Suite. It stakes a claim and honours the huge bodies of water that centre our country. It includes a poem read by the late Gord Downey and a performance by throat singer TanyaTagaq. We began the year with our elbows up and we're keeping them there.

So those are some of the things that helped counteract all the chaos, meanness and inequity that social media delivers so relentlessly, news broadcasts too. 

Last time I checked, February comes next, see you then. 

 

 Blog #172... December 2025

November is the darkest month, or the cruelest month and it's also a month for remembering. In Mexico it's the Day of the Dead, and here we honour combatants killed in wars. Although we're still in the decade of the pandemic, it's somehow receded into distant memory, one of the weird things about it. 

 Margaret Atwood's been all over the airwaves since her memoir Book of Lives appeared. I picked up her Fourteen Days, and discovered a fascinating production. Commissioned by the Authors Guild Foundation as a fundraiser for writers who lost income due to COVID, and edited by Atwood, it's a collaborative  novel with contributions from 35 writers from the US and Canada. Taking place over 2 weeks in early April, 2020 in a rather seedy NYC apartment building, the tenants meet each evening on the roof to applaud health care workers, and to tell stories.  It's early days of lock downs and there's much talk of distancing, masks, hand sanitizer, toilet paper...and death. Margaret Atwood presides like a wise and witty Scheherazade over the piece and it took me back to how it was in that time that seems so long ago.

This eventful November began with the excitement of game 7 of the World Series. The emotional intensity was too much for me and although I usually lean towards stimulating reading, I found myself sinking into Helen Humphrey's short novel  Followed by the Lark. She introduces a small boy named Henry who loves nature and, as he ages, gradually reveals that it's Thoreau...it was a perfect refuge for a few hours from the craziness of the world.

Susan Orlean has just released a biography called Joyride, a nice way to describe life.  Libraries and stories play a huge role in her life, as they do in mine, maybe yours too. In a recent interview, she mentioned that in Senegalese, the word for death means his/her library burned.  So, we could think of a life being made up of stories and when the physical form is gone, the stories remain.

Salman Rushdie also has a new book out that tells the most important story of his life. In 2022, he was stabbed while speaking in the outdoor amphitheatre at the Chautauqua Institute.  In The 11th Hour, both the title of his book and how he thinks of the stage of his life, he determines and examines what he chooses to value in the time he has left.

Our local library held a Death Cafe recently - seems a theme is \ emerging here. I decided to go ,not knowing what to expect, but curious.  My first surprise was the age of the other folks, probably mostly 40ish, and pretty equally boy/girl. After a very brief intro by an organizer, a random group of us gathered around one of the tables and got down to business remarkably quickly and easily. The conversation opened with expressions of a wish to connect with other people.  As we moved around the table introducing ourselves, individual issues emerged: the recent death of one man's wife, upcoming deaths of parents complicated by estrangement, a recent brush with a near fatal illness, a student of  thanatology.  I brought up how we avoid saying die, preferring passed away or deceased. I found the connections warm and gratifying but left the session with the slight uneasiness that there was unfinished material.  I hope it was the beginning for people to be open with their feelings, and support for continuing..

And finally, New York's often in the news, Uganda not so much, but two items caught my attention this morning, both about elections. New Yorkers chose Uganda born Zohran Mamdani to be their mayor and Nancy Kalembe has been elected Uganda's first female president. I visited my cousin Marney in Kampala in 2003 when she was working on a project that encouraged women to engage in politics. I wish she were still alive so I could share that news.  

 We'll meet again, God willing and the creeks don't rise, in 2026. In the meantime, take care, and find some ways to enjoy the holiday season.

And finally, New York's often in the news, Uganda not so much, but two items caught my attention this morning, both about elections. New Yorkers chose Uganda born Zohran Mamdani  to be their mayor and Nancy Kalembe has been elected Uganda's first female president. I visited my cousin Marnet in Kampala in 2003 when she was working on a project that encouraged women to engage in politics. I wish she was still alive so I could share  that news.  

 We'll meet again, God willing and the creeks don't rise, in 2026. In the meantime, take care, and find some ways to enjoy the holiday season.

 Blog # 171...November, 2025                                                                                            

 As I keep my eyes and ears open to the art around us, I'm starting to find the art of survival capturing my attention...so many challenges in so many places.  And I'm reminded of something I read about the activity and growth that occurs along the banks of a fast moving body of water, far from the rush of the mainstream. I think of that when I hear about a small creative initiative happening on the margin, like a small plant surviving in the rich soil and protected calmness at the edge of the rushing stream.

Artangel, located in the UK"produces extraordinary art in unusual places". In his book Mad, Bad and Dangerous, Colm Toibin takes us to an Artangel production in Oscar Wilde's cell in Reading Gaol to hear the prisoner's voice read De Profundis, his polemic directed to his former lover Bosey and the English upper classes. How's that for extraordinary and unusual!   Toibin's book explores the lives of Wilde, WB Yeats and James Joyce in the context of their time and families, particularly their fathers. If  you share my luxury of time and love of Irish literature, this book is a joy to read, as are two others by Toibin, The Magician, and The Master about Thomas Mann and  Henry Jamesm respectively. 

This morning, I heard Zita Cobb express her philosophy of connective tissue which she employs at Shorefast, her charitable foundation that operates the Fogo Island Inn off the shore of Newfoundland. Her example of a small community united by a small but successful business is an encouraging example of\ connective tissue, a concept close to Cobb's heart.  Makes me think of  the music initiative in Powell River, ready to pick up the pieces when the local mill closed..

Toronto hosted a music event recently that was a collaboration between a couple of unlikely partners. Dan Brown, in between best selling thrillers, has created a book for children featuring animals that's been made into a musical, produced by actor Viggo Mortensen. The performance was featured at the World Congress of Music, bringing children from different parts of the world together to perform, listen, learn and make friends.

I'm remembering Robert Redford and all the support he gave to indie film makers with the Sundance festival.  He was also a pretty good actor, I'm re-watching some of his films. his last one All is Lost is amazing, made when he was almost 80, doing all his own stunts!                                                                                                      I'm congratulating Sarah Mulhally, first woman to be Archbishop of Cantervury. And. I'm sending kudos to all the Toronto artists who make Toronto's Nuit Blanche such a spectacular event year after year.

I discovered the cause of the underlined website connections mentioned in the last blog and dismissed it.   And I've decided to change my attitude about all the  changes that appear on internet sites, you know when a button you always use in the bottom left corner disappears and after searching for 10 minutes you find it under 3 dots in the upper right cornnr. I'm going to consider it a chance to sharpen my wits. 

                Halloween on Markham Street, created by our neighbour Spencer,                                                                  photo by John Bilodeau

That's all for now, as the dark part of the year begins, keep looking for the cracks where the light comes in.  I'm posting a bit early to send good vibes out on the airways to the Blue Jays let's wrap it up tonight.     Go Jays!

Blog # 170...October, 2025

I know I've just posted for September, it's the 2nd today, but I just heard a wonderful 90 minute doc from Iqaluit on  The Current, CBC radio. I was particularly moved by how they speak of  how strongly they feel Canadian while clinging to their distinct culture despite the distance, the hardships and how neglected they are by the rest of us. It's so important to hear their voices as we struggle with our national identity... just saying. 

Don't you hate it when someone describes something you'd love to see, then says it's over? Well here goes - A production of Dear Liar at the Shaw Festival.  It's a wonderful two-hander starring wife and husband Marla Mclean and Graeme Somerville, based on letters exchanged by George Bernard Shaw and Lady Patrick Campbell during their long and tempestuous love affair. She was his muse and inspired him to write Pygmalion, casting her as Eliza Doolittle playing opposite  Herbert Beerbohm Tree as Henry Higgins in the London opening on April11,1914.  The play was impressive enough, but the setting was spectacular! The Spiegeltent was brought over from Belgium 3 years ago and has housed several dozen performances since - who knew? It's being returned at the end of this season, but will stay in my memory always, the photo only begins to capture it.

The art world took a bit of a rest over the summer, as we all did to live throughout the very hot days. There's always a September surge...the Toronto International Film Fest, Word on the Street and a lot of small local street events. Near where we live, there's a long alleyway, lined with mismatched garage doors with weeds springing up through cracks in the pavement - not the most scenic route. But yesterday, it was alive with artists creating murals on most of the doors. Some celebrating the abundance of harvest season, some reminding us of the sadness of residential schools, others abstract shapes and colours, no particular themes, just ideas that inspired the artist to create...the randomness of life. The project was initiated by Street Art Toronto or StArt as it's cleverly called. They've been operating quietly for years to make our city more beautiful, an awesome task and I for one, am grateful.

I'm often reminded of how privileged I am, not just me - you are too. I just came back from a week entering into the life of a friend who lives on the outskirts of a small town, lots of large lawns and gardens, and many activities and services for the aging folks who've moved there to enjoy a quieter setting. This week, she entered my life, in the centre of a large city, with less room, more noise, more diversity, less parking. Our friendship of almost 70 years has covered a lot of ground, through thick and thin as we sometimes say.  We both appreciate how we can relish our own lives while enjoying a visit into another, sometimes challenging, occasionally uncomfortable, but always worth it, all part of the art of living.

One of the revelations of my week in another world, was a Sunday morning church visit. I've been in chuch infrequently lately. Weddings, if they happen at all, are in gardens and people celebrate the lives/deaths of loved ones in a variety of venues. My memory is of sqirming in a hard pew with my grandparents listening to turgid music and seemingly endless sermons. Not at all what goes on today- joyous songs are projected on a screen, a bit like karaoke and the minister delivers what's more like a philosophy lecture. And it was a crowded, beautiful setting full of friendly folks, a community gathering reflecting a societal change that happened while I was at home reading the weekend papers.

Great to see so many orange shirts today, hope our hearts stay open all year. And something worth checking on Youtube is Jubilee, a channel featuring people of opposing views engaging in civil debate!

See you in November.

 Blog#169...September, 2025

The CNE's here - reminding me of my days working at Beasley's Bingo - and another summer is under our belts.  The world continues to lurch into who knows what.  But our two 18 year old golden girls, Summer and Victoria thrilled us in pools and on courts.  And for basketball fans, SGA, the dude from Hamilton, was named NBA MVP! Canada continues to be a strong, proud and kind place and we need to work at keeping it that way.     

Ron Turcotte, well loved jockey who took Secretariat all the way to the triple crown of thoroughbred horse racing in 1973 died at his home in New Brunswick last week. He suffered a spinal cord injury falling from a horse late in his career and spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair advocating for disabled jockeys. 

Sticking with how Canadians enliven and enrich sport, Prisciia Uppal would have loved to write about our young athletes. Named poet in residence for the 2010 Olympics in British Columbia, she published reflective poems in Winter Sport.  She highlighted the courage of skater Joannie Rochette, competing days after her mother's death and the tenderness of skier Alexandre Bilodeau towards his brother with Down's Syndrome.   I featured Priscilla and the book in Blog#7 back in March 2012, she died in 2018 at 44, a great loss!        

It's a half century since the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald; we discovered it and are reminded every time we hear Gordon Lightfoot's haunting ballad.   If I seem unusually nostalgic these days, it could be related to re-reading Erik Erikson's theories of the life cycle, particularly the concept that maturity is not the end of psychological growth. So I'll continue to reflect on life events that have taught me about life as I've skipped along. 

 As a last grasp at summer, I visited Prince Edward County last week, taking in the landscape dotted with breweries, wineries and cideries that flourish in the limestone rich soil. It's also dotted with art galleries, cafes, B&B's, and high end shops, a bit like a rural version of Yorkville or Ossington.  It's fun to go though and we enjoyed discovering the very beautiful and interesting Andara Gallery, featuring the work of owners Tara Wilkinson and Andrew Csafordi. Wilkinson's pieces, taken from her photography, are ethereal and floral, capturing the joy and spirituality in nature. Csafordi uses the ancient method that dates back to the Egyptians of painting with melted beeswax and pigments to create his own style of encaustic sculptural painting.  Well worth a visit if you're ever down that way.

My question this month is... when did voice mail messages stop announcing who I'm trying to call so I never know if I'm leaving a message for the intended person?

 Next blog will herald October and I will have passed another milestone, maybe you will have too, and we'll all take  a deep breath and get ready for what comes next.  See you then.  

 Blog #168...August, 2025

Last blog, I mentioned the show 52 Women, which took on the difficult task of choosing a finite number of women who have transformed Toronto. Of course there have been many many more, coming from all eras, areas and walks of life. and it's fun to compose your own list. The show runs at the City of Toronto Museum, enter at the east corner of 401 Richmond Street, until December.

Also in early days of a long run is an amazing show of Joyce Wieland's work (she'd certainly make my list!) at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Although I was aware of her, I had no idea of the tremendous range she covered. Another surprize was her passion for Canada which is expressed in many of her pieces.  It's particularly touching in the current climate to see huge Canadian flags - stocking stitched in red and white wool and only a decade old in the 70's when they were created.  And her Oh  Canada piece, rows of images of her red lips articulating each syllable of out national anthem.                                                                                                          

Her nationalism was matched by her environmental concerns, particularly for the Arctic region. She often worked very large. The first image when I entered the show has been transported from the exit at Kendall from the Spadina subway station. A dozen caribou, pretty much life size, are in different postures on an ice floe. It's executed in quilted cloth and has a realistic three dimensional quality adding to its power. I sat opposite it for half an hour and could almost feel a cool breeze, 

CBC's IDEAS has been featuring artists lately and had back-to-back shows on Joyce Wieland and Joan Jonas recently.. Striking similarities were their overshadowing by male artist/partners, Joan by Richard Serra and Joyce by Michael Snow. And they both had to wait decades before being recognized by one woman shows at major galleries in their home countries, although they were both recognized internationally.  MOMA exhibited Joan's work last year, she's still alive and active at 89, spending time between her studio in NYC and Cape Breton where she landed with a group of American artists in the 50's. 

 Joyce died in 1998 at 66, without the satisfaction of recogition in her hometown but leaving us with the joy of appreciating her work at the AGO. 

As the song goes, it's been too damn hot lately, but it's given me anyway a chance to slow down, spend hours stretched out reading. Paula Hawkins followed The Girl on the Train with a series of psyuchological thrillers that engrossed me as I ignored other things I might be doing.

I'm asking many questions of the world right now, least important is what has happened to those cucumbers we used to have, the chubby ones with slight bristles, like a chin or a shin needing a shave?  They seem to have been replaced by long thin ones wrapped in plastic, I'm grumpy about it and it's distracting me for a moment from other horrors.

This just in, I saw the production of Macbeth at Stratford yesterday. Purists will be recoiling in horror as conflicts in The Scotish Play are rendered as biker wars. I found it a tribute to Shakespeare's grasp of basic, sometimes barbaric human behaviour and its timeless inevitability, especially right now...but that's just me.

Sending this off into the blogosphere with my regards to readers in various parts of the world, I know you're out there enjoying glimpses of Canada. 

Back in September\.