I am still in Prince Edward Island.
PEI was my final destination East and I knew I’d spend awhile here. My mother and father needed a good lift so that’s what I’ve been doing. This time has been full of mixed emotions. Like some of the topography here, constant shifting dunes. I witness the parallels between the challenges my parents face in their difficult aging (does anyone have an easy aging?) and life itself.
I have been outwardly focused. Not much time to process or be quiet with me, but that will come. Today… Continue reading “Still on Prince Edward Island….”
Well… this is it! The journey is beginning today. Who knows what is around the corner. Each minute is unto its own. I will start at the ocean (pics later) and head off to my first easy stop in Kaleden near Penticton. A little wine before going to far?
Packing for this trip is rather creative as I will be ready for Buffoonery workshops (first scheduled one is in Hamilton, Ontario… but me and my PILLOWS are ready!)
Madame Rouge from Dusty Shoes also insisted on coming a long since she is known to be very spontaneous. Oh dear…. I just wanted to have a nice quiet road trip. NOT!
Time to get off the computer and away me and Suzi 2 go!
It’s still the official day where I currently am. Toronto. I haven’t seen any theatre. Any official theatre.
I’ve been part of a lot of real live theatre. I’ve been traveling, trying to get to Eastern Canada. And, there has just been a monster storm, making it very challenging to reach my little Prince Edward Island.
Did I mention I was in Toronto? Yup. In a hotel, graciously given to us by West Jet for the night, along with food vouchers (we really are fortunate in this wintery country).
So. No plays. No theatre. No musicals. No live performances.
No.That’s not true.
My taxi drive to the airport would have been way less interesting if… Continue reading “World Theatre Day 2014 on the Fly…”
I have neglected you, dear Bouffon Droppings.
I have been busy and have some news. You have a sister. She’s called Dusty Shoes. I know you will understand as you are part of the reason Dusty Shoes exists. And, she likes you.
Here is her image, and she asks for your patience as she comes to complete fruition in the next 4 weeks.
The earth is shifting, the skies are swirling with devastating energy, and the seas are mounting. The last few days, and as I write, storms are landing in the Eastern States and Canada, and here in BC we just had a large earth tremor. Thankfully no major damage nor injury. It seems like a good moment to boldly post a poem that has been sitting in my desk drawer for years. Shall I? I shall.
The Hidden Tempest
The sea sighed as
sailboats quietly played on her back.
A gentle game.
One of tolerance.
Her depths smirked at the efforts
to keep these toys moving about.
An irritation to the sea.
Their sails did nothing to inspire her.
She heaved a second sigh.
And another one.
She started to rock.
The movements awakened
a quiet yearning.
She began to roll.
hastily sought a safer bath.
But the sea wouldn’t wait.
She had had enough.
She had been subdued for too long
and shook her tides loose,
her primal song
arousing her hidden tempest.
She roared, kicked up her waves,
caressed the sky,
inviting it to dance.
(who could refuse the sea’s wild charms?)
They tangoed, teased, until
clouds intertwined their arms of wet,
the horizon no longer:
Waves snapped, sounds exploded, tornadoes whipped, currents got lost,
white, blue, grey mountains formed and died in a blink of an eye,
fish and birds frolicked in frenzied unions.
The sea satisfied with her powerful play,
pulled back her tendrils of storm
only to witness,
scattered sails who could not survive
her turbulent thirst.