I'm in love with a name

I'm in love with a name. It's Cecilia. I've only known one girl named Cecilia. She was a friend of my sisters in their elementary days but she is not the cause of my affection. There is a Simon and Garfunkle song called Cecilia. That might be part of it. Maybe its the look of the name on the page. Like a city scape. It sounds neither warm nor cool. There's something perverse about being in love with a name. Its like some strange alphabetical fetish. I like Sandra too. But that's another story.

Specialist

going to get my results from the specialist. to see why my hearing has declined. and why i get a little light headed. i'll have to remind him to speak into my right ear.

David Halliday

The different versions of David Halliday from physicist, rock star, poet, photographer, coach, father, son, throw a sister in. Hell, its all good.

McGarvey and history

We used to just call her McGarv. McGarv was one place and her mind was somewhere else. And while she was someplace else, she twirled a long strand of her hair in her finger. Constantly. I was sure that at some point the strand would give out and she would eventually go bald. One afternoon my mother found McGarv (a teenager) in our hall closet. Talking to her boyfriend. The telephone cord was one of those long winding cords that stretched out for huge distances. If she'd had a cell phone (which hadn't been invented yet) she might have been imprisoned in the closet. The closet door had a tendency to lock on its own. It was her good fortune to have been born at the right time in history.

First Medieval Time Machine

This is the boy in me... I read somewhere that if the great library at Alexandria hadn't been burned by Christians during the early days of the first millenium, we might have reached the moon by the year 1200, almost 800 years earlier than Mr. Armstrong's walk. Well, I tried to imagine (given that premis) that we might have created time machines in the medieval period.

Benay

Benay was stoned almost all of the time. And I was smitten with her. She was very promiscuous. She had a boyfriend. And she came onto a friend of mine. And yet I was still smitten. When I made a move on her she suggested we become friends. I was thrown for a loop. Got involved with another woman who was a good friend. We lived together for several years. I don't know what became of Benay. But looking back, it all seems so bizarre. And stupid. Which is a lesson in life. How delusional we become to someone. No not to someone. But to love itself. It is a madness of youth.

Homicide

Death comes in the quiet of our thoughts. When we were looking the wrong way. At the moon being smothered by a cloud. It begins in panic. Thrashing out. We want to live. Something standing over us. Waiting for our last breath. Murder. Now and then.
Homicide: Now and Then

Bigamist

This is a small tribute to my wife Anne Marie, Mie, Anne, Annemie. We have both been married twice. Both times to each other. Does that make us bigamists?

Stories

A new room in my gallery. Its called Stories

3 faces of Victor Genova

An old friend of mine is the subject of a lot of my collages. Vic is cranky. And funny. To a lot of people he is a character. Personally I think he should go back on his meds.

Little Victor Genova Flees the Church for Life on Jack

I'm not sure what this is about. I know Victor has been disappointed with the Church since the Inquisition. I keep telling Vic, "its like the Pope says, you've got to move on."

I was too old.

An odd thing happened to me last night. Well, maybe it was a year ago last night. Or that long weekend before that. I woke up and found that the world was suddenly younger. And I was on the outside. I have always felt on the outside but this was different. I was too old. I felt like I could see through the world. The world, society, life etc. runs like a dream. With full participation of all of us. Its a common dream. Or at least I thought. I always knew that children were waiting to join, that teens were biting at the bit to get started. But I never thought that older people were excluded. Not because younger people had suddenly voted them off the island. It was because they saw this dream for what it was. Pointless. Not that life is pointless. That's another question. But that this dream, getting up each morning like it was a new beginning. Fighting to get better marks. So you could get that better job. So you could buy all those nice things. But these are all distractions. All you have is time. And time is running out.

Easter Always Come So Suddenly

Another room added to the gallery. Easter Always Comes So Suddenly.

Suspicion

Just created this image. What is more violent than the suspicion of violence?

The Power of H: America's Eco Woes

The Power of H: America's Eco Woes
April Showers 1

America's Eco Woes

Things seem really bad below the 49th. Is this Bush's fault or Obama's? I'm not an economist but how do you run 2 wars and lower taxes. Am I paranoid but does it appear that as America sinks further the split in the 2 Americas is becoming wider? And everyone has a gun.

In the hood

Neighbourhood 2 is my new room in my i AM a GALLERY.

Neighbourhood

Come out and visit some of my friends in the neighbourhood.

murder

Illustrations from my award winning book 'murder' (Eppie 2002)

Saving the Moon

Saving the Moon, illustrations from the series A Box of Chocolates and in the series i AM a GALLERY.

Day After Christmas

Illustrations for one of a series of children's stories. The Day After Christmas

The Jungle

A new page, The Jungle, on our gallery i AM a GALLERY

The City Room

The newest room in our gallery i AM a GALLERY. It is called the City room.

Growing Up

Illustrations for a group of interrelated short stories called Growing Up.

The God of Six Points

A new room has been added to 'i AM a GALLERY'. It is called The God of Six Points. The illustrations were created for a novel I wrote about an old man who suffers from dementia and thinks he is a god. (An old man thinks he is a god. And than he has murdered one of his subjects. In the western suburbs of Toronto, a small junction called the Six Points, an old man has prowled through the streets forever. No one can remember when he hasn't been there. No one can remember him ever being young. He knows everyone and everything about them. He believes he is their god.) The illustrations were never a part of the ebook.

My Beautiful Aunt Bernice

There is a tradition in collages of making pics with artificial limbs attached to people. This one is called My Beautiful Aunt Bernice. And she was a beautiful woman.

The Power of H: i AM a GALLERY

The Power of H: i AM a GALLERY: "I have started a gallery of my visual work. It will be an ongoing piece of work."

i AM a GALLERY

I have started a gallery of my visual work. It will be an ongoing piece of work. Its called i AM a GALLERY