Month: October 2005

I’ve been looking over the past 121 post’s I’ve done. Reading some of the things I’ve tried and some of the
topics I’ve tried to discuss. In doing so, I’ve noticed that I really do break one of the most cardinal rules
of blogging, “pick a topic”. I haven’t done that. I switch backwards and forwards and sway back and forth. In
a way it’s similar to my life but really what it is, is my own personal struggle to find my voice.

For bands and musicians, they ship them out to foreign countries where no one in the main market can hear
them. It gives them the opportunity to play; try new thing; fail and succeed. But I’m not shipping myself to
those countries nor do I have a development fund to try some very expensive failures. For me this blog is my
way of stretching out and trying.

So although a good blog has a topic, a better one has a writer that the topic resonates with. So for those,
like me, that are trying, the only thing you can really do, is keep writing. Eventually the voice will come
out loud and clear.

Today I’ve been slightly distracted by a dream I had last night. For some it would be classified as gross and
nightmarish, but for me it is kind of relieving. I’m still working it all out, but first I’ll tell you the
dream.

In the dream I was brushing my teeth and it hurt slightly. I could actually start tasting the blood in my
mouth. Eventually I put down the tooth brush and played with the tooth. The second tooth on the right was
pushed in a little further and has an odd colour. So I start to play with it. Eventually I grab on hold of it
and pull. I could feel it coming out, but not painful, more like relief. I looked down at my hand that there
it was, a rotten peg of a tooth, which I squeezed. It was so rotten the it crumbed and mushed in my hands.
The last thing I remember about the dream was consistently tonguing the void and in shock that it just pulled
out like that.

I’m pretty quick at doing my own analysis of my dreams so very rarely am I baffled. This one has me
wondering. WTF?

For those of us locked into only 60 channels of T.V. ( remember when there were 3? ) and especially in the
hick world of Canada, we are just starting to see the pleasures of Dead Like
Me. I saw the pilot on
Showcase the other day and then proceeded to rent most of the first season. There are several good things about the
show:

1. Great concept
2. good scripts
3. All the streets are Vancouver

Yup, good olde ( yes, with an e ) Vancouver. I was aware that Vancouver was becoming a nice little sci-fi
drama capital in the Television industry but lately everywhere I look, It’s Vancouver. And, unlike the
others, with this show, because it’s not supposed to be a planet far away, it makes the idea of Grim Reapers
among us all the more captivating. I find myself immersed just that little extra to say…”that guy died just
outside my office”

I’ve been looking at the word focus….

• Close or narrow attention; concentration
• To concentrate attention or energy
• direct one’s attention on something

And I’m reminded of a quote from The Princess Bride:

“You use that word a lot. I do not think it means what you think it means”

Being in montreal over the past week was a great experience. I got to so the city and listen to a bit of jazz
guitar. The trip was mainly business but the little bit of pleasure I got, was good: good food, good music,
good sights.

The odd thing about the trip was the last night. I had heard that my hotel was in the “seedy” part of town
but I didn’t really click in, until I realized that every woman walking alone was scared of me. On that night
I had decided just to walk around and take in the architecture, the life and the crisp cold air. Most of the
time I liked to stay off the main streets, as the hustle and bustle takes away from the “moment” feeling. One
after the other I noticed that the women who were walking in front of me or by me all reached into their
pockets and purses. It wasn’t like reaching for a kleenex or a mint, I was sure that whatever they pulled out
and held tight in their hand, could do some serious damage to me. It was an odd and scary sensation to see
that they were actually afraid of me. And because they were afraid of me…made me afraid of where I was.

How could I have been afraid of Montreal? It’s a beautiful city with heritage and diversity. Don’t worry,
that last little experience won’t stop me from going back. I definitely want to see it again, and next time
I’ll just stay out of the “seedy” neighborhood.