Cappuccinos, Pineapple Upside Down Cake. I love Union Square & Gramercy Park in NYC. The Bowery Poetry Club.
My blue bicycle. May it have a long life. The Toronto island ferry, ice formations, Artscape Gibraltar Point feels like home, walking along Bow River in Banff, Steve Earle, the Saskatchewan sky, Emma Lake, Danceland & City Perks Coffee in Saskatoon .writers retreats , dancing alone in my room to Patti Smith’ s Horses album. A Love Supreme, John Coltrane & Thelonious Monk… St. Peter’s, The Benedictine monks, chapel & walks into town to go to the thrift shop. Chickadees. Waking to the sound of a woodpecker A strong cup of tea.
Playing the piano when I am alone Horses, ponies & donkies. Remembering my horse girl days. The smell of English Leather Soap.
Swimming, swimming in the nude in a deep spring fed lake at midnight, getting lost in a book, getting lost & forgetting my own narrative, struggling to write, getting lost in my writing. Fountain Pens. James Joyce. Too many writers to list here.
Spellcheck changed list to lust Reminded me to me mention sex.
Book launches, poetry I don’t understand, poetry I think I understand, coffee at the art gallery with friends.Going to the theatre, trying to write a play, Millers Crossing & imagine my surprise when I cried during an opera. Comps to anything. Patsy Cline. Housesitting.
Crisp snow, skiing, but maybe not downhill, getting lost, cold air and blue skies.
Apple products. My family, cousins, most of them, the Wilno Tavern and sunny summer days at the cottage. , Indian Food, Jerk Chicken & old community cookbooks. Photo of my mother skiing in the Laurentians when she was seventeen.
Getting giddy, a belly laugh & a sour mood disappearing on its own accord
Touching anything & I know I am still here.