Rather than gassing on about my usual preoccupations, I thought I'd start - start, I say, not finish - with something probably more interesting: the stuff Karen's been working on.
She spends a large part of each day in her work room (spare bedroom) either watching video tutorials or working on "challenges" from the art and embroidery websites she follows. One of the projects was to create "master boards," backgrounds for other projects, such as artbook pages. She's used a number of painting, printing and stamping techniques. The multi-layered results are kind of cool.
The other project that she's showed me is one from an embroidery website. In the artbook/scrapbook world, "tags" - like luggage tags, only decorated in some way - are a common trope. The instructor challenged her followers to make a different tag for each week, using either a theme - hearts, something white - or a particular embroidery technique. So here are the first five Karen has done.
I don't think she knows how she's going to use them yet, or if she's going to use them. But that's fine. "It's just the process" is her mantra.
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I'm out walking or running around downtown or along the riverside paths at least once a day. (I've been incredibly lucky with the weather so far. I'm not optimistic it can last much longer, but it's nice while it's here.)
I've noticed, or think I've noticed, a couple of things. More people are out walking than ever, which makes sense given there's nothing much else to do in the middle of a pandemic lockdown. That has probably been observable for almost a year now. But what I've noticed lately is that more and more people are wearing masks even when they're outside. And that includes young people, and some folks I would have guessed, at a glance, were street people.
Not that there aren't some idiots - usually young - who come towards you in a pair or larger group, unmasked, talking and laughing, and don't give way and go single-file when they draw level. It was two middle-aged women out jogging yesterday. I met them twice. Both times they were talking a mile a minute and neither time did they make any extra room to let me pass at a reasonable distance.
I'm not sure the science confirms the need for wearing masks outside. Certainly what we read a few months ago suggested you're fairly safe outside. The new variants are more transmissable. But are they so transmissable you could now be infected by an unmasked person walking by you on the sidewalk? It seems unlikely, but who knows?
In any case, it doesn't hurt to wear a mask outside. I have a snood that I pull up whenever I'm approaching someone, masked or not. I figure it's more to protect them, though.
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Not a lot to show for my afternoon ramble today. I walked over to and through Thames Park (between Ridout St. and Wortley Rd. at the river). I haven't been in that park for years.
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| View west from Ridout St. bridge |
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| Thames Park - a bend in the river |
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| Thames Park - across the river and into the trees |
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| Thames Park - far bank of the river |
I went up the hill out of the park and onto Victor St. Few will now remember that Karen and I once lived here, in one of the more desirable neighbourhoods in town. It's now known as Wortley Village. Then, it was just Old South. This was 1972 to 1976. Of course, it wasn't quite so posh in the early 70s.
Gini and Larry Moore, she a colleague at Lawson Library at the university, where I worked at the time, he a PhD student, owned the house. They lived on the bottom floor and rented us the small two-bedroom flat on the top, for some absurdly small amount. It was a great place to live, a great time.
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| 41 Victor Street |
The place looks pretty much the same. I think the trim is even painted the same colour. I half expected Gini and Larry to come out the front door with Lucky on her leash. I found myself wondering if Art Pratten still lived across the street. Art was one of the artist Greg Curnoe's gang, a founding member of the Nihilist Spasm Band. If he does still live there, he'd be well into his 80s.
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Finally, what's this about?
Aren't oak trees supposed to drop their leaves in the autumn? The times are truly out of joint.
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