time remaining 5 part 4 - 2017 april-may  work & days: a lifetime journal project

15 April

Up and over this morning - Okanagan connector 97c - tedious empty Canada for 74 miles, not a gas station, not a café, just signs saying brake check and chain up. First it was shabby ranchland, worn-out bunchgrass like an old pelt. Then it got very high - forest and snow and forest and snow - a wind-farm grove at the logged off summit - sick-looking pines - long view to an impressively distant range. Then the road dropped out of winter again, lake below and now it'll be a real town, but it wasn't a real town, just more sawmill yards and miscellaneous redneck efforts at commerce. I assumed it would be shorter coming home and it was but it seemed a couple of weeks later in the season too. I'd stopped being nervous about freeway driving and was in love with the roadcut's shards of broken rock - copper green, dove grey, battleship grey, dry rust, wet rust, gold, buff, cream, blue, pink-grey, mauve - always more, in sorted spills one after another, often only a few feet apart.

What I brought home: a pear, a dwarf peach, a nectarine, a paeony, two iris a white and a blue, four roses, some moss phlox and some hardy salvias. There's a cold wind. It's too cold to plant. But now I'm finally ready to drive more, to Art Knapp's in Kamloops and to Desert Hills in Ashcroft and then probably to Van.

16

Have never been indecisive with other people's garden plans but have stayed so uncertain about mine. After a year am still moving things around in Sketchup. What do I know that I didn't. I want the hazelnut hedge for a dark background and a screen. Will it need wind shelter while it establishes? I want a crabapple for the white flowers and small fruit. The pear needs to be where it doesn't throw shade on vegetables. The peach, nectarine and apricot need the south wall and maybe they'll like the gravel's heat. Can they be alright in gravel wells? Anything edible that doesn't have a shell shouldn't be next to the road so I've moved the Saskatchewan cherries in. Plums along the west wall - plums I don't have yet. I've edged the entry path with ribes. The Therese Bugnet bed can have the paeonies, iris, salvia nemorosa and then needs some white froth like Queen Anne's lace. Nasturtiums here and there all over. Poppies same. Lots of yellow rose of Texas along the north end of the east fence - plant those soon.

18

Fast up the Coque to Kamloops this morning feeling this is what locals do. Art Knapp's nursery rows with a wise kind stoner called Tony. Came home with an antique crab, four filberts and a Golden Celebration. 5a on the way home, grasslands and lakes all the same color, grayish tan, except along Nicola Lake shrub willows pink or dark red and tree willows shockingly orange or gold. Still need a greengage, a damson, an apricot and a pear pollinator. Spending recklessly, oh well. (Sigh.)

Making the Strathcona garden I used to leave the house at 7 in the morning and come home at 9 at night. Now when I have to stop after a couple of hours I'm hung up with my wheels spinning, I write these notes badly instead of working more.

Looked up from dumping compost on a bed and oh! saw a pasqueflower in the Cox's bed. We called them crocus and slogged through the mud to Hill Sixty's dry slope to pick them for our mama. When I say that I feel her loss of the children we were, who confidently loved her best.

There has begun to be enough order in the garden so I'm liking to look at it.

Johnny-jump-ups have been blooming for a week. Scent of violets. These almost white. They show up all over the garden.

I planted the Whitney crabapple at the south end of long row 2 where it will show against the garage. It will have good-tasting crabapples Tony said but may not bloom for ten years.

Emerson was 50 in 1853. He was aware now of external losses and inner subsidence, of fresh limitations and flagging energies. He told Carlyle that he wrote much less than formerly. "It is pleasant to go to the woods in good company," he wrote, "but who dare go to the woods to poverty, and necessity, and living alone, or with sick, sour, and dependent people, and to ask nothing and expect nothing further than to match the solitude you find, with the solitude you bring ...?"

"Thoughts are few, facts few - only one: one only fact, now tragically, now tenderly, now exultingly illustrated in sky, in earth, in men and women, Fate, Fate."

In 1855 Whitman was 36, sent a copy of Leaves of grass to E, who by his lifetime's work and study was completely ready to read it when hardly anyone else was.

"He would lay his hand on my coat sleeve when he was about to say something; touch me sort of half-apologetically as if saying, if I may be permitted!"

"I often say of Emerson that the personality of the man present in all he writes, thinks, does, hopes - goes far toward justifying the whole literary business - the whole raft good and bad - the whole system."

The days are gods. "The young mortal enters the hall of the firmament: there he is alone with them alone, they pouring on him benedictions and gifts. there are the gods still sitting around him on their thrones, -- they alone with him alone."

Your work, as Ruskin says, should be the praise of what you love.

Sometime in 1859 Emerson wrote "I have now for more than a year, I believe, ceased to write in my journal, in which I formerly wrote almost daily - I see few intellectual persons, and even those to no purpose, and sometimes believe that I have no new thoughts, and that my life is quite at an end."

Origin of species appeared in America in the early months of 1860.

20

Axelrod Point of vanishing. I'm reading it suspiciously and competitively. He lost vision in one eye and lived alone in the woods for 18 months and then used these two glamorous facts to get entry as a writer. He thanks an MFA program, seven writing residencies and maybe five dozen readers. The book is so professionally constructed that I'm reading it from the back. I dislike the sharp ratty face in his author photo. His suffocating family horrifies me. He has Harvard and money behind him and is winning by being second-rate: he exaggerates; he's forcing 'sensitive' perception; I often don't believe his claims. And yet. He's more what I want to be than I am. [Sigh.]

Two surprising little birds jumping and pecking on the dark wet ground, yellow caps, blue-grey backs, black and white bars. They're exquisite. Sibley and Cornell say yellow-rumped warblers.

The garden is a place now, dark rows of beds, currants and gooseberries lined up, and best and most, two trees facing each other north to south, an apricot, a crab, each with its flanking stakes and the crab with attendant cherry shrubs on either side. There's a shape.

- In what way. I am physically anomalous, much more visibly than he is and more discredited by it, and I have kept going off to live alone. I've studied and loved places where I was solitary. I don't have a book but that isn't what I mean. What I mean is that my brain doesn't flow the way his does. I don't like his cognitive busyness and the way he fancifies his writing so the whole book is about how special he is rather than about what he's with, despite saying he's about being about what he's with, but still I'd like to drift and flow more, I'd like the adventure of drifting and flowing more. I'd like to do it with more integrity and less Jewish male entitlement but still I'd like to entertain myself more.

Try again: his descriptions are so decorated with irrelevant metaphor that they exasperate me. He could be showing me an actual different kind of being than I am, sometimes does but keeps messing it up with what feels mistakenly ingratiating. "Sometimes they were crossed by the hieroglyphic tracks of a squirrel or deer or snowshoe hare, as though in some other realm a friendly meeting had occurred, forest gossip exchanged." What is that, a Disney memory?

In chapter 3 he does talk about not having depth perception or peripheral vision on his right but after that doesn't he describe as if he's seeing normally. Mostly it's as if he's naming his difference as what he calls his dreaminess, which had existed before his accident and can be thought of as his literary gift. Is the book a social sell in ways I've suspected of myself at times?

-

Since then I planted five of the Yellow Rose of Texas suckers by the verandah corner, and a couple more of the pink wild rose along the north, and Yvonne's purple irislets at the gatepost rocks, and the four filberts - two sticks and a couple of graceful two-year olds - where the rowans were along the white fence.

I invited Yvonne to dinner next week but then she said LOL twice on FB messaging so maybe it was a mistake. Daphne has offered heritage paeonies - and minded that her spellchecker took out the a - but is talking about selling her place.

-

Gail gave me a big chunk of yellow iris that I've plonked in by the apricot tree.

April 22 Saturday

A man at a conference had come up to me and given me his manuscript that he'd thought I might be interested in because it was something about film. It was a thick white pile double-spaced and stapled like an academic thesis. I didn't look at it until later. In the meantime I was leafing through my own business papers, insurance papers and notes on something I was going to have to deal with. There was a sheet of my dad's with a word written in pencil at the top right corner. I was thinking I do that sometimes too, write a label on the upper corner. Then I thought, no, I don't have to go into all this now and picked up the manuscript. It came apart into two piles, the second labeled with the number II. I noticed the man had a PhD but oddly expanded with more letters I couldn't figure out between the Ph and the D. I was scanning here and there beginning to marvel at how full and unusual a book it was. The foreword was as if poetry. There was something too about the health of backs. He'd been a type of man I wasn't attracted to, an opaque-skinned slight man with dark curly hair and a curly beard, maybe Jewish, European-looking, but now I was wanting to know him.

- In reading dreams the way there's swift quite rich unstable invention that afterwards I can't recall. Picture-book dreams are like that too though sometimes I remember more.

Rereading Fromm's biog of Richardson liking its homey practicality about how she and Alan lived in the years after Pointed roofs. I don't believe Fromm when she tries to interpret and second-guess but I thank her for her dutiful research into money worries, bad reviews, cold cottages, health scares, stormy Decembers, new and long friendships, praise letters, publisher negotiations, translations and magazine pieces, aging. By Dimple Hill DR said the writing seemed to her like that of a 'somewhat ponderously-moving stout old dame'.

- Angry where Fromm ends the book, "in spite of her great gifts she did not achieve greatness." How dare she imagine herself qualified to make that judgment. She compares DR with Joyce and Woolf as if to hedge her own reputation - 'I gave all these years to an author who isn't great but you'll notice I'm not deluded.' I hate that. Then she says DR did not achieve greatness because she wasn't able to choose between art and life, which Woolf was. That is nonsense. Woolf never had to choose between art and life because the life she was born to was a life of art; within it Woolf chose life more than anyone did, she reveled. It's true her books are more shaped, but DR was doing something else, she was advocating for fringe possibilities of state. DR was great as a specifically feminist experimental artist working a phenomenological edge, none greater.

When did I read Fromm last, July 1981. This time through I'm more interested in DR's old age. She lost hope for Pilgrimage in the end, it seemed nothing would come of it. She let it peter out. In 1945, after the war, she was 72. Three more years with Alan, visitors, letters, good times in the village. Alan died in 1948 when he had just turned 60. She sat and stared for ten days and then before her 75th birthday that summer sat down with the whole of Pilgrimage correcting printing errors so she could donate it to the Padstow library. She suddenly had enough money. She was still in the cottage. There were visitors. She could still write. Then in 1953, when she was 80, she wrote two postcards that were "the last words she ever wrote to anyone". The year after, they wrenched her out of Cornwall to a nursing home where she was regimented and had to share a room. She endured three years of that angry and shut down until she died in June of 1957. - My journal begins January 1958.

23

It was sunny at eight this morning. When I'd made tea I went out and planted, first the Golden Celebration and the White Dawn in opposite corners of the lattice. I had to set stepping blocks in what'll be the rose patch and throw compost on all of it, then could plant the Alnwick and the Thérèse Bugnet. A white iris next to Gail's yellow. Crocosmia's red with salvia nemorosa's blue in the gravel well at the foot of the steps. The little fig in the well against the wall. Another nemorosa with arabis in SW gravel well. Herbs along the foot of the gravel pad. Both white paeonies, the double and the single, lined up next to the concrete rim. I kept not knowing whether to plant the nectarine in the rock bed or in the gravel well: is the shelter of the wall more important or is being able to spread its surface roots. I decided on surface roots in the end, which leaves that gravel well for maybe a little shrub, maybe a magnolia or philadelphus? The blue iris at the foot of the rock bed. Kept hauling more barrow loads of compost. Mulched the rhubarb, which is looking so so vigorous with its clenched dark-green fists. That was five hours. Later went out again to set up the pea support and plant half a row of shelling and half a row of snap, with nasturtiums at either end to climb up the round ends.

The river junction is flatter and wider, an even silty brown. Property Guys sign on Daphne's fence.

25

Day on the road. As we drove west the spring came on fast. Halfway to Spences Bridge the first saskatoon almost in bloom, bit further a flash of balsamroot. By Ashcroft leaves out, fruit trees pink and white. We stood on Callie's yard again smelling the balsam poplars, hearing the river. A train hammered past on the far side of the river. I liked her perennial beds' many spikes of iris and tulip, red paeony clumps, a lot of soft green. Then we climbed to my old place and dug up three clove currant shoots. Sat at a picnic table at Sam's Diner drinking cokes. Had a little rumble: he said I always say no; I said he never enquires. We seemed to be even. A realtor took us winding down and around to an improbable piece of ground below Boston Flats, a scrubby bench all the way next to the Bonaparte. Sagebrush in fresh leaf, a heap of broken cabin, a sagging trestle, a rusted pipe. Home through other kinds of marvels on 97c, Highland Valley Copper Mine's still-iced copper-green tailings pond and vast long shelves of crushed colored rock, everywhere the exquisite tints of shrubs coming into sap - yellow, bright red, hazy pearly pink-grey. Then as we sank into Merritt's valleys all the subtlety of bud-clouds around trees.

26

Cold wind, sky white and blue, Paul just gone, Yvonne coming to dinner, wildflower seedlings showing along the fence, the Manitoba maple just starting into leaf, a row of new plants on the gravel pad, chitted potatoes, the pear tree to place, the new philadelphus, the new Iceberg. The brick edging to finish and the fence bed to prep all the way up. It's late enough for lettuce, onions, beets, carrots, etc. More barrows of compost to place. - Mail a rent cheque.

28

It rained last evening but as I went to bed there were bright stars in black sky. This morning my wet dark earth has a slight rime of frost like a calcium deposit.

Alan Burger said no to my turkey movie. I'm angry and muttering insults. What else haven't I dealt with. What Paul said.

Young women's academic books about DR. There was one arguing she was a lesbian and obediently going on about 'encoding'. This one shows its origin in Santa Cruz by its pretentious fuzziness. Can I say that better. Reading a paragraph is like rooting through an unsorted heap and then the next paragraph is another unsorted heap with some of the same materials. She can't dig down and get clear because she's needing to be impressive in the specious Santa Cruz way.

-

I hauled 8 or 10 barrows of compost this morning and planted first the peach and then the pear. Set some more stepping blocks.

Am I being fair to Alan Burger      yes
Did he say no because I'm a woman      yes
Does he know that's why      no
Was it correct to tell him he was discourteous      YES
Should I have known better      no
Would you have said I shouldn't do it      no
Should I stop going      no
Is there more I should do      no
Is there anything you want to say      in anguish, of loss, balancing, yourself
Instruction      no, description
 
Do I say no to Paul      no
He notices it more when I do      YES
Because I'm a woman      no because you're his big sister
He heard what I said about not enquiring      yes
I was carefully exact     yes
And brought us through      YES
Is it okay in him now      yes
 
Do you like the garden      yes
Is there anything you want to say about it      YES graduate to community generosity before you die
Use it to give stuff      no
Use it to be connected      yes
Do you want to say more      no

- What happened to the little green glass bottle I dug up in London? I was wanting it for johnny-jump-ups. - What happened to all my porcelain pinch pots?

- Another thing I don't like about this Gevirtz book is that she keeps saying DR uses stylistic strategies to make Pilgrimage hard to read. When I found it at 29 I didn't find it hard, I found it native as if my own blood temperature. She is writing the consciousness of a young intelligent person. The less intelligent won't easily follow but that's just a consequence of her project. I now have to read her more slowly because my brain is older.

29

It was too cold, I watered by hand but left everything else. Walked away from Jenn and Ben's yard sale feeling bereft. Was it the copy of the Mabinogian I gave her in the for sale box, which made me feel she had liked me less than I her - and had been humoring me for the money so my happiness working with her was a delusion - or was it the true but typically misdirected awkward sadness of a goodbye.

I cancelled Seoul. My note could say it was the mad American president's unpredictability in relation to North Korea but I was relieved when the book said don't go - passport, Canada Council travel grant application, clothes, shoes, hair, teeth, long flight, and then having to be a sore, lame, self-consciously unattractive old woman in a harsh unfamiliar city.

The 29th - it's a year since I moved in. "Lilacs all over town." Then by May 3rd "A lot of little plums forming, size of an apple seed. The yard is a shambles of old wood, gravel, little piles of stones and bricks, round lumps of hollyhock. Strong scent of mountain ash flowers. Across the street little white anemones. What May is like, this boiling-out of trees in flower, lilacs everywhere, other trees too, across the road in St Michael's yard two trees impressively pink against a Russian olive."

30

Fair winds, compadre. Wherever you are.

One plum blossom open but it's too cold for bees, cold wind. Eight crows in the yard, smooth glossy blue-black little hustlers waddling over everything poking and peering, shoved sideways by the wind when they flap up to the garage roof.

-

Finished the fence bed's brick edge today, dug it, compost-mulched it. Watering-can watered everything. Added up the whack I've spent on garden this month, $1250. The hardest work and biggest spending are done.

Smelling johnny-jump-ups in the little medicine bottle and balsam poplar rooting in its glass vase. A dim sense of flower scent, what was it, as if it's from an elsewhere, not the ordinary world.

There's late sun on the blue fir swaying and twisting its long upcurved arms, some of them toward the top end-weighted with cones.

I'm tired, sore. I need heat.

1st May

May Day 6:30am the sun cold silver in grey batten above the television house. Windless. I've uncovered the peach and the yellow rose.

Cookson's Guide came finally - his acknowledgements thank Jamila Ismail - did she actually know enough written Chinese or was she bluffing - she has a good name and I always liked her handwriting - if she weren't so tight-sphinctered I wd like talking to her, I mean if she would talk - and it sets me instantly back into my quest for a project, the project, the long deep project that can carry me out fully occupied at stretch.

There the sun eye-shaped glaring silver from upper branches of the dark spruce. - And gone out. How can anything come alive in this endless grey.

Pound claimed epic. Epic is men, his epic is his claim to lineage. DR claimed pilgrimage instead, but is that accurate: she meant to tell the story of coming to be herself against temptations and limits given. She meant Bunyan I guess. Pound claimed all history, she claimed Edwardian mostly London March 1893 - autumn of 1912. Seventeen to thirty-six, not quite her own period, she compressed because she was lying to Alan about her age, but anyway the pre-war. What do I have, what am I. I can claim both parents but what's my DNA from each: phenomenology from DR, lyric from EP. Light from both. World from world. Cosmology and neuroscience from the last twenty years. La Glace, old Ontario, London, Valhalla, the Pacific northwest, California. He claimed deeds and declarations, she and Woolf claimed the uncon, facts and reasons hidden by doers and declarers. Yes. Someone described Woolf as spiteful and malicious. No, she confessed spite and malice because she was interested in herself as a sample human, she noticed spite and malice on principle. Pilgrimage in DR's sense is psychological and epic is self-blind blundering-on as men have done it.

- There goes Home Hardware Tom on his bike on the way to work, 7:51. He glanced at the garden.

Can I sum up. La Glace is land. Queens is friendship. London is film. Valhalla is writing and pictures. Vancouver is therapy/philosophy. California is love and teaching including neurosci.

Both EP and DR traversed points of view. The way one must, now, syncretic, living in a syncretic time. Or say transitioned through states while retaining/constructing memory of others. That way of saying it acknowledges that one stays as body. Isn't womb-acknowledgement the basic difference.

a narrow shore and the groves of Persephone, willows and tall black poplars

He didn't know where he was or why he had to start there.

- Logan is assistant prof at a little college at the northern edge of Wyoming.

Aphrodite presiding deity of later, paradisal parts ... Dionysus ... presence felt in all the animals, plants and trees that shine throughout the poem ... the power in the tree ... the blossom-bringer, the fruit-bringer ... the abundance of life ... the sap

How to evoke them in the garden. Something with the covered garage window. Gold, copper, walking goddess, mirror, raven, maybe a cabinet, some marvel for the passers-by. An altar, a spring.

-

Logan replied. Jacob asking about the sketchups. Val writing about her virtual life photos. Jerry wanting to visit for a week in summer. Emilee heartsick.

Do I want to show the sketchups at Western Front. They're very naked. The earlier ones not well finished.

2

What do I know about a sketchup show. I'd need a new computer because this monitor is shot. Pick a journal passage for each era. Line up the fantasies with the actuals. Have passages describing the sketchup work for each image, what sketchup drawing is like. This overflows any gallery show so should end up a website and/or book. Ask Presentation House to do Jacob's earlier show and then send it to Grande Prairie. Have the Cinemateque do a retrospective with the new work during the Western Front's. Get CC money for a book.

Do you think it's worth doing      yes
Why      winning, world, honesty, before death
Testimony of a life      YES
Is it large enough to matter      no
You're getting me ready to die      no
I am      yes
Does art have to be so trivial      YES
Can it broadcast or introduce the better work      yes
The north country work is better      yes
I deserve a show on my own      YES
It's a lifetime show      YES
And goes with the journal      yes
Is the drawing good enough      yes
Or can be      yes
Could Jacob get his head around it in this form      YES

It amounts to a lifetime review and prepping it should take me through the journal from the beginning. I should use it to fix and finish. Could I get CC money for computer, scanning, printing etc.

It's about what is unsatisfied in a life too - the fantasy houses are - naked longing for more beauty and money and scope, happier loves. Houses as images of the self there is and of the idealized self. House is one of my long topics. First fantasy houses, my dad, the granary house. Indra and architecture. Acid ritual that gave up house for world at the same time as recording someone else's vision of the body enacting the ritual. The first granary house. The Clearbrook house not finished. This one. Question of use of other people's sketchup objects and background photos. Standardize backgrounds to white? Other kinds of jpg, for instance cross sections? Ten months to March 2018. What will we know the house before birth.

Brings me to an urgency to finish many things including the Notes in origin show and the teaching letters.

It does feel as if something has unlocked.

That critic I like, Robin Laurence.

-

First day sitting outside on the gravel pad. I see things to do - [list]

Small bee in currant flowers. Many flower buds on the plum. Couple of quiet crows. Green leaves on the ground holding light as they do against dark soil - strawberries, Iceland poppies, currants, Shirley poppies self-seeded, the two year old filberts, Gail's iris. - Oh first cabbage white. The crimson passion, bits on the crabapple. More small insects as the soil heats. I like that light purple moss phlox.

3

walk down to the woods on a sunday in autumn
or ride an old horse who's a friend
 
just a sun-soaked slow ramble later
the road will slip under the grass
and end

I'd forgotten that one. 14. It's a death song.

Paul's list of the generations. Grandpa Epp born the same year as Pound.

1920 Ewald Epp - Rueckenau, South Russia
1885 Peter Abraham Epp - Rueckenau, South Russia
1846 Abraham Johann - Molotschna, South Russia
1808 Johann Heinrich - Molotschna, South Russia
1784 Heinrich Heinrich - Danzig, Prussia
1757 Heinrich Heinrich - Danzig, Prussia
1725 Peter - Gross Werder, Prussia
1681 Peter

Grandpa Konrad born 5 years later.

1890 Peter Jacob Konrad - Schoental, Crimea
1855 Jacob Jacob - - Molotschna, South Russia
1822 Jacob Abraham
1785 Abraham Abraham - Gross Werder, Prussia
1744 Abram - Gross Werder, Prussia

So the Epps had had three generations settled in south Russia and before that three generations at least settled in Prussia: three generations means a degree of establishment more than ours.

4

The Epp name that always-thinner strand of descent that means less and less as it tapers out among the Martins and * and * and * and *, etc. It isn't a tree, it's roots of a tree.

-

The plum's in bloom. There's burn in this sun. Look at the little lewisia in its gravel well next to the step. Look at the utter radiance of the grass. The house's tulips have turned out to be pink. Burning translucence of rhubarb leaves. Bumble bee in the currant. Small bees in the plum, quite a few. Scents. Volunteer dill along the bed's edge. Blossoms on the Crimson Passion. The Juliet looks dead. Golden Celebration flagging, my fault. Clematis coming up from below. Bud-knobs on the two grapes.

-

- There's the rain! Heavy drops. Pleased for the little plants still underground to feel it patting the soil. Come on, more - . Lightning in the east. The new trees will be encouraged. Maybe the wilting stems of the paeonies I got from Coldwater Road will straighten overnight.

It was the first day the boiler was never turned on. The verandah was warm. I baked rhubarb.

I don't know what to do about Jacob. He doesn't like the sketchups, they're too concrete and autobiographical for him. Someone else could like that about them. He doesn't like the idea of journal excerpts either, for the same reason. He did pick out core.jpg. That's the place to start I think. It's in a different realm than the sketchups but do I have more work in that realm. Core.jpg is about you. The poems he chose aren't good.

6

Daphne dropped in on her way to dancing at the Adelphi. She had her hair down and was wearing eye makeup and lipstick and had on capris and sandals. Her toenails were painted. I had on dirty ugly planting clothes and was wobbly on the steps the way I've been these last few days and was half-smotheredly hating her for being so much better looking at our age. In such moments I don't at all remember any of the things I am more than she is, partly I think because she doesn't either.

There's the moon high over the Russian olive with its lower left quadrant dissolved. It's six on a Saturday evening. Bitter cold this morning and then warming in the sun so I was out watering in a teeshirt. Iceland poppies ablaze in yellow, orange and cream. The plum in a glory of white against blue. Apricot and crabapple in quite a bit of leaf. Jefferson filberts resplendent. Pear has opened one little fist of blossoms. White bits on tips of the shrub cherry.

Trees, "The first year they sleep, the second they creep, the third they leap." I liked that when she arrived at the steps she said you can tell a real gardener because when they start they destroy everything.

7

there have been things i've continued to want to say to you.
 
one is that i have a house and garden. have been here a year. have planted fruit trees, roses, paeonies and more.
 
another is that i believe you meant well. i believe condescension is habitual and defensive in you and in a way is not personal.
nonetheless given your astonishing nastiness in our last years it is intolerable to me. and i understand why you want secrecy but that
isn't how i live either.
 
the other is that i miss talking to you. i understand you no longer are the person i used to like to talk to but i do miss that person.
pound was a great gift i go on thanking her for.

-

It's clear and just and I like it but after I sent it this morning my heart felt strained. I sent it because whenever I'm reading Pound I'm in the earlier time that still needs to settle something with her. "Astonishing nastiness" has had to be said but this won't settle it because she won't acknowledge it. I've said that too, I say I miss her and then I take it back, the one who could acknowledge it is nowhere. [Cookson A guide to]

Janis in the supermarket says this spring houses in Merritt are selling so fast she has no stock. The Nicola is over its banks at the A&W and is flooding Lower Nic. Highway 8 is closed in a couple of places. The fire chief in Cache Creek is presumed swept into the creek while checking its banks during the night. Volunteers have been filling sandbags at the Civic Centre this aft. The dam on the Nicola is holding but the lake is up three feet.

This morning I used the crowbar to centre the bottom step-block and then planted baby blue eyes around it. First little pea vine poking through. Windowsills in the verandah lined with pots.

Five doves flickering up into the blue spruce which is moving its long arms languidly in soft 5:30 light. The linden next to it is in leaf but the Russian olive not quite. It seems the crabapple twins are skipping their pink this year.

The grove needs an altar.

The Tofteland house had one, the square stone amid flowers.

What do I love in Pound. His paganism. His defense of body and sex. His love of light. His intuition of network and wave. His intensity in research, his dedication, his huge responsibility. His inseparation of art and politics. His rhythms of course. His spacings. His naturalness in multiple tongues, which is familiar from when I was young. His sincerity though not his goofiness. His energy. His wish to have everyone come along, which is to say generosity. His walking tour in the south of France. His irritability. His capacity for adoration. His affiliation with rock, water, animal, plant. The way he kept the whole arc of his life in mind, kept his loyalties. His confidence that carried him so much further than my diffidence can.

i don't have anything decisive to say about this yet.
 
am guessing the sketchups are too concrete and autobiographical for our purposes now. i've been working on 'house' in various forms since childhood but always in what has had to be quite a concrete and autobiographical way. when i was teaching i wrote up a workshop on house as archetype. it's at http://www.ellieepp.com/mbo/bodies/workshops/house.html. i'm sending the link simply for your information, not as any sort of idea for the show. to me it suggests that the sketchup material probably needs to be a book or at least a website.
 
my other guess is that your choice of core.jpg is a good instinct. it seems to point in a direction we haven't found yet. the poems you mentioned aren't up to its level, i don't think. we could do better. and i don't know what other visual work could support or expand it.
 
juliette's sound file is lovely. it reminds me of the amplified sound of my son's heartbeat before he was born. do you know what you want to do with her? the western front gallery i'm familiar with is quite small and compared with karlsruhe very informal.
 
on another note, i still have a hankering to have the work you chose for karlsruhe seen in canada. i can understand why you didn't want to pitch it to grande prairie but how would you feel about presentation house?

He hasn't replied to this very tactful note and if I'm not imagining it there's a certain hardness in the air. In fact I wdn't be crushed to give up the Western Front if we can't find a way. I have so much riding on anything in Van that if it isn't superb I don't want it. What I really want is just my half of the Karlsruhe show in a better gallery than the Front; in several better galleries.

-

An hour later the pellucid light of 6:30 on church and trees. I must have plant genetics in me I am so thirsty for light. So avid for the gestures of my fellow plants.

-

The Cox has flowers! Five in a bundle next to the little trunk.

8

An older woman in the garden section at Purity Feeds is suddenly in front of me, looks me in the eye. She has an unusual white-mouse look, sharp but bleached, white hair, pale face with small specks of freckle. She's like some actor, I'm thinking, but who. "What does your teeshirt say?" She reads it: "Never underestimate an old woman with a doctorate degree - do you have a doctorate degree?" "Yes." "Then it's a good teeshirt."

9

A man was in my house asking one question after another while his student the Spanish plumber was fixing my leaking tap. I'd already forgotten his name. He looked mild: pale-skinned and -eyed and a bit plump. I think a coarse blond moustache. He was translating for his student in fluent Spanish. I thought he might be gay. He was so alert and engaging I just fell into naturalness with him. He said he's from here but was years in Montreal and then more years in the Dominican Republic. He'd translated for companies and now is teaching English as a second language. When we were saying goodbye, I on the porch, he on the sidewalk, he said we'd see each other again. "I like you." Just like that. I said I liked him too, very lightly because it didn't seem to need saying. He was what I'd told Paul grown men aren't, willing to be interested in a woman. I wasn't surprised by him, the way he was just seemed the way meetings should be, but I was surprised by the naturalness I heard in my own speech. I was smarter.

11

Four young women in the high school pride group. Yvonne's idea was that I'd talk about living as an outsider but I took them through the two sides exercise and talked about diversity within the self.

12

R. acicularis. We just called it a rose. Filling - it seemed filling though it was only scattering - the little sleigh box room with wild rose petals for their pink scent. It was early because I was still alone, four? I brought my mother to see. As I remember it it has a ceremonial feel. I associate it with what my mom said about having imaginary sisters though I don't know any reason to. I don't remember when I first saw any other kind of rose. Oma's climbing rose under the Mädchenzimmer window. - How much stronger a sense I have of her now that I am a gardener too: her impulse in placing that rose where she did and giving the girls rather than their parents that bright large window facing east. Such a good room and red roses at the window. Her spirit subtler than my mother's, a bit crafty and ironic. My mother grimmer, even when she was young, heavier, though she was clear in her level ethical way.

- The photo of myself at sixteen with one of those red roses in my teeth. Frank had a copy by his desk. It's what I saw in the mirror that summer, absolute glow.

David Austin The English roses 2005.

Alnwick, Graham Thomas, Therese Bugnet, Blanc Double de Coubert, Climbing White Dawn, Harison's Yellow if that's what it is, the pink species. Room for three or four more. Greed.

Scent of balsam next to me. Bits on the Russian olive thickening olive green. Linden all dressed bright and frisky, a kind of slate-blue storm sky behind it. The Nicola over its banks at the north end of Garcia and over Voght at the bridge, high school students filling sandbags. At the confluence two broad fast brown sheets with a raised seam at their join. On its far side poplars become towers of white dots jittering. Friday night, 7pm AA meeting parking out the window. Blue spruce dancing quite hard.

13

Aunt Lill thanked me below the photo. I can see why she would like to be reminded of that peaceful orderly time when she was young too, "an innocent time." I hold off having anything to do with her because I don't trust her snooping but I did vaguely want to reply. Just as I was shutting down for the night I clicked. I said secure kids don't realize what security is, I had no idea then how much was supporting that smile. I wrote it with a spark of a tear. It was gratitude. I've always only admired myself in that photo but I was suddenly grateful to all of them, her too, for the unquestioned belonging that household gave me, and my parents too, the coherent orderliness of the life they gave a child, even the part of its safety made by their untenable faith. I don't admire myself less, there's something extra in that girl - look how she's holding herself - but I know more about how bad things can be for kids.

There was frost last night, I could see it on the strawberry leaves when I went out with the compost bowl.

When she says innocent time I suppose she means the time before we realize all the kinds of tragic ends.

-

b.1926, Shropshire. A life looking for a particular beauty. "About six new roses a year"

Old Rose Hybrids

Leander Hybrids

English Musk Roses

Alba Hybrids

English Climbers - GT - cut back shoots from the bottom leaving just a few

Flowers with quite a large number of petals but still displaying their stamens seem to me to be some of the most beautiful

- I noticed that this time through the rose books, my eye had changed.

I have spent much of my life drawing people away from this kind of flower

He's a designer. Has a politics of perception.

Cut before strong sun and halfway open, thicker stems, put into water immediately so they don't have time to callous over. Cut ends again after a few days because they begin to decay.

Plant them 18" apart in beds to make a tangle.

14

Near the watered ground a western tiger swallowtail's big wings slapped around in the wind. Flattens itself, lies low.

Luke on his Sunday afternoon, my early morning, watching rugby.

-

I moved compost with the wheelbarrow this morning and then drove straight up to Canadian Tire and brought home an Evans cherry tree. There it is held firm between two stakes at the end of the second-last long bed. It has such bright leaves.

Rowen's delight when I said I've planted a cherry, an apple, a crabapple, a pear, an apricot, a nectarine, a dwarf peach and four filberts. Avid for fruit the way I am.

I should take photos of each little tree to be able to know how they've grown after a year and then a second year etc.

Evans cherries have a story. An old woman near Edmonton had an orchard of sour cherries that had been surviving those winters since 1923. The trees are quite small but are said to bear heavily.

Need another pear for pollination and still need a damson and a greengage. I'm being reckless with money but I'm setting up my last years. These trees will time me out. [Sigh.] Staggering with the wheelbarrow or at Can Tire today carrying the tree I'm aware that I have to do the heavy work now. Later I'll just be poking and plucking and wandering around with a pruner wearing a white Tuch like Oma's to keep my hair from drying out.

15

light airs

night air

thinner darkness in the east

16

4:37 dark, raining. I open the back door and the air smells deliciously of leaves.

O'Brian likes air the way I do. He likes to live in 1799 for its stately cadence: he gives himself a time when he can please himself with nuance and exactitude: its language allows him to call up more of the world's qualities: he can give play to his great general knowledge and fond sensory presence in a way that makes most novels seem so thin they aren't worth writing. - He likes colons, is that cadence too, musical measures.

It worries me how pondered this writing is, how arbitrary all the little decisions seem. That's lack of cadence. Maybe a recent habit of.

When I'm in the garden people on the sidewalk call out "I like your yard." They've studied it; in my chair at the window I see their heads turn. What do they like about it, it's just bare earth with unformed plants spottily here and there. They can see wholeness of design probably. Personal drive. I keep telling them it's nothing yet.

18

A middle child of nine living in small places along the eastern slope of the Rockies. Her dad three quarters Native. Drank, worked at this and that, rodeo. His name was Buck. Violence, sexual assault, poverty, hunger. When she's four triplets are born, girls who die one by one between the ages of two weeks and four years. On Saturdays she staggers home from the library carrying a stack of books so tall she steadies it with her chin. Drops out of school in grade ten. Goes to college when she's 27. Native activism, land claims. Works as a classroom teacher with Native kids and then in special ed and special ed consulting. Assumed I'm Metis too. People have told her they think we're sisters.

We were a couple of hours sitting with white wine in my garden chairs. She was always calling out to people on the sidewalk, bubbly, affirming, working hard. These days she mostly reads geopolitical pieces online, she says. She's anti-American I think without nuance, listens to Putin's long speeches and doesn't believe Russia interfered in the election. There's something wrong with that and when anyone works so hard to be popular I suspect some covered darkness. I'll keep an eye on that and at the same time I can see she's admirable, she's had a long driven curve, a lot of push.

Today she looked her age - which helped me, though I went in and put on shoes when she was getting the wine - but she's always pretty. She's thin and busty, wears consciously femme clothes. Her hair is strong and thick and her eyelids are still completely clean. I get fascinated watching her smile, a girlishly smooth point-cornered bow that lifts to show rather animal teeth tightly packed and curving forward.

19

I'd been watering in the verandah, saw someone I knew, maybe, rushed to the niche windows to see whether he was continuing past. No, he's vanished, that means he's turned in to my walk. Then there he is at the back door's window, beautiful Peter, Theresa behind him. "I saw you!" Stand on the porch naming them the trees.

The nectarine has one little pale pink blossom.

Across the street the twin crabs in full leaf are showing pink bud-dots. Behind them the silver tree twice their height swaying its long loose arms.

A warm day has greyed over. I moved mushroom compost, laid out stepping boards to weed and mulch around the Cox, planted the two bulb lilies that have been gasping in pots. The strip both sides of the lattice is filled out now. Grapes and clematis shoots, two roses, sturdy horseradish, long-stemmed delicate johnny-jump-ups, cranesbill I think, bit of iris. I should move the hellebores into the shade of the horseradish and plant the convallaria there.

-

Core.jpg belongs to a different show. The air maybe. I keep feeling the sketchup show isn't from my best register. [No.]

You think it can be       yes
It can't be so thematic, there need to be other kinds of bits      yes

To kalon the beautiful

20

If I loved doing them why don't I love the project of showing them. What do I feel saying that. Reluctant stress. What exactly. Sorrow, stressed heart. I didn't realize it's a kind of crisis. Take a run at it. Bits of thoughts that aren't it. Name them anyway. My Vancouver enemies will not admire them. I'll show the poverty of where I come from, I'll show the pathetic fantasies, I'll show my thin leg. I'll show my thin leg rather than my fine brain. They aren't magic, they are how it was. Yes heart pain. Why did I love making them. I had loved my houses, I loved remembering them. It's real heart pain, remarkable. I loved showing them to people who had loved the houses too. They aren't ideal, I'm not showing my best - it's a crisis of publicity. But why. I've shown the journal. Is there a better reason, will it spoil my reputation. It's real work, I said to Peter "For two years I had to do it." "Yes," he said, meaning that's how it is. I felt guilty doing it as if escaping from better work.

I loved remembering loved houses, I loved learning the program, I loved the nature of digital drawing, the rapt focused interaction. I basically love architecture. I loved remembering detail. I loved making my fantasy houses and fantasy loves more realized. It was a way of working off my homeless longing for a home.

Is the guilt really shame. [Sigh.] I'm ashamed of what I am. I'm not ashamed of myself in the journal, why am I ashamed in these drawings. They show my deformity. Somehow. They show my aloneness, but is it that.

I feel they show my deformity      yes
Do they actually      yes
For the show to function does it need to show them all      yes
Is the fantasy the deformity      no
Can you name the deformity      meditation, of love woman, (KnC), friendship
They show loneliness?      no
Displacement of home-making      no
Displacement of attachment      YES

[Large sigh.]

Air - stands for the universal substance within and without a body - simulation experiences felt to be in the head - fineness, subtlety - gods and spirits - immersion, diffusion -

Ritual giving up of house.

Pound so unashamed of his love for the gods.

22

Rowen's birthday, he's 32.

Yesterday I was going to weed the gravel next to the house, moving from the stepping stones to the cellar window edges. Next moment I was flat down on concrete blocks. Had no sense of how it had happened. Left knee hurting. I was saying to myself This is going to happen more.

Last night sore throat, sore left knee, sore right ankle, sore shoulders, feeling I'm so far into old age already and it's happening fast. Not everyone is this old at 72. Was it because I ate two buns the day before yesterday, was it because I drank wine at Yvonne's dinner, is couscous wheat. Is it because I've done a bit of heavy work.

Clueless worry about the sketchup show, at a stop.

23

I told Louie I'm helpless about the Sketchup question. She said she shows them to people, looks for the emails. She said I don't realize that not everyone can remember spaces the way I do. She said she'd like to see next to them the thoughts of the person who lived there, and then also the artist's thoughts. I said I'd thought maybe my thoughts as I was making the drawings. She said that was what she meant. I said I'd also thought something about what working in sketchup is like, the way the real space can feel like the modeled space. She said that is for the introduction. I said it would be better with a female curator who really liked them. She said I've known how to do things on my own before.

So what do I know now. The most important drawings are the Epps' place, the hospital room, Burghley Road, the lake house, Pender St, Saturna for its writing, Tom's place. Leave out the fantasy houses for now I think. [Sigh.] Ban Righ?

Have a couple of views for each.

jacob good morning - i've been stuck on this project but had a good talk yesterday with a friend and am a bit clearer. here's what i'm
thinking now:
 
instead of sending you an actual house sketch and a fantasy house sketch i think i'd like for now to send you just some of the actual
house sketches along with passages from the journal of the time. the journal passages will have to be preliminary, as will the sketch
views.
 
the fantasy houses are a layer of complexity i can't deal with before the end of this month.
 
there are i think seven of the actual houses that are essential. for each of them there should be at least two views. where it's possible
one should be an outside view and one an interior.
 
along with the journal passages from the time of each house there can later be a journal passage from the time of the making of the sketch.
i don't have these yet.
 
there should be an introduction page that talks briefly about the phenomenology of working with the sketchup program.
 
am wondering whether the third element you are intuiting might be the little video called here - it's the one of the stone terrace with the
turkeys drinking. it relates thematically to both the houses and core.jpg i think, and brings in the film connection. a complication with that one is that its sound is important and would be drowned out by juliette's tape if it were to be playing continuously.
 
i'll soon be able to send separate emails with preliminary sketch views and journal passages. what i've tried for in choosing the passages is readable and characteristic little stories.

24

Yesterday I kept thinking I might have to die quite soon if this goes on. My whole left leg hurt, up into my hip, and then shoulders and sides too, and wrists sometimes. In my house I'm hobbling the small distances from one thing to another. I can't shop and am running out of food. I can't do anything in the garden. I thought I'd have ten years but if this doesn't get better or if it keeps happening it might already be too late for this place.

It's cold today, still and grey. The crabapples are out but they look a bit patchy and lurid. Schoolbus with Similkameen on its flank, that charming word. What will I do all day, all day.

-

In pain still. Was awake from 1, took an aspirin at 2, dozed and dreamed a dark haired young man. There was a young woman singing her poems in a weak voice, crying. The young man who was her instructor was standing next to another young woman I took to be his girlfriend. I said to him in a firm voice that the crying woman was crying because he hadn't let her know he had a woman. Then we were walking out together, he and I. He'd come behind me with his arms tight around me fitted against my back so I could feel his bone. In this just the moment feeling him wrapped tight against my back and walking easily without pain.

The awfulness of the emergency ward this morning, cold, sore, hungry, and left hour after hour with no one coming to tell me when something would change. I arrived at 6:30 thinking I'd be seen right away and at 10 got up and hobbled to the jeep and left. Heated some tea, took an aspirin, crept into bed with a hot water bottle, the radio and a stack of National geographics.

27

The night before last I kept wanting to be dead. Shooting pain in my knee so bad I was whimpering. Couldn't sleep, couldn't settle onto one side or the other. When it was morning and I had to get up to pee I crept the few steps holding onto walls and drenched with cold sweat. Sat on the toilet dry-retching. Could not possibly have made tea. Kept thinking maybe it would be endless, or maybe that is how it is going to be sooner than I know.

This morning I'm walking and hardly hurting but it's too soon to try anything normally hard; little weeds that have jumped up all over the garden after a couple of days of sun will have to wait; but I can totter into the verandah to water the squash and cucumbers.

The shirley poppies are massive. Some of the potatoes. What I've learned this spring is that I should plant many things in late fall. Lettuce, spinach, dill, poppies, carrots, brassicas, what else? Remember pine needle mulch for strawberries.

28

It's a bit after 5 on a Sunday. I'm in the white room in bed with tea and my knee on a pillow. The sky is white tinted rose at the horizon and blue at zenith. It's dead still. When I lean forward I can see the crabapples full out and the silver tree in full leaf. Last evening in the west there was a golden sickle suspended in golden space.

There's a dove on the wire just at the top of the complicated post. The thick-forested hill is a soft fur of shaded hollows. There's a movie on the facing wall, shifting strips and streaks. The radio is giving me beautiful Irish voices. J.D.Farrell 104 days in the life of. Documentary on One. Rte.ie.

to build light

It's metaphoric but what else is it. His commitment was to improving humans, but there's something more in the image. What do I see: as if a diagram of crystal structure. "It coheres alright." As if making a coherent crystal of neural field. (Do you think? No.)

Does it mean something important      YES
But not that      yes
Structure in the world      yes
Can humans improve the function of light on earth      yes
Does 'light' mean e-m      yes
So it means to improve knotting in ether      yes
Local knotting      yes
Do you dislike that      yes
Because it's too static      yes
It's not locking      YES
Do you want to suggest a better word      integrating
More?      no

magic, herbs and metals

Why does that list need its first term. It's set up as if a list of categorical equals but in fact the first term intensifies a resonance inherent in the combination of the second two.

 

part 5


time remaining volume 5: 2015 may-august

work & days: a lifetime journal project