Bit gets some new flowers. 

Some of them quite nice. 

Mostly flowers though. 

Lots of things. 

Lots of flowers.... 

Lots of flowers, lots of fences. 

The North Shore (West Vancouver, North Vancouver City and North Vancouver District) is holding an "Art in the Garden" tour this weekend. A good excuse to shlep the XL1S around town. This should happen to all pillars. 

TV, or not

I may or may not be on TV. This evening, I attended the monthly meeting of the Vancouver Video Production club and discovered it was being recorded for a CBC TV show called On the Road Again which unfortunately isn't Kerouac returning from the grave, even more thirsty. The show was doing a segment about the club's founder (?). It apparently will be on in the fall. That may or may not be me in the background.

The bird was so tame it didn't mind a human with a big camera shooting video a few feet away. It was like being in the presence of a miracle. 

While I was stalking flowers, suddenly there was this enormous heron on a log 4 feet away from me. I thought at first it was a statue, but then it moved its head. 

Not just rhododendrons 

Sometimes one is enough. 

Purple goes well with green. 

A few weeks ago, an artist I know told me to visit the Rhododendron Garden in Stanley Park. I'd never been there before, so I went there today. Most of the flowers were gone but I got a few good shots. 

Link

2 short restaurant reviews: Koreana and Kakiemon

The day after I returned from the east, we went out to lunch with family friends Steph and Junko. Steph works in the same building as a Japanese restaurant called Kakiemon next to the convenient Seabus Terminal. Like most Japanese restaurants in town, it bills itself as a sushi place. Fumiyo had the Chirashi sushi, which she didn't dislike; Junko had the fried oysters, apparently one of her faves; Steph had ginger pork and I had something I did not believe. Really good Ton Katsu (the Japanese word for Pork Cutlet) is rare in Tokyo- to find a great place is to have information of great value. But in Vancouver it is unheard of. Maybe they keep the few tasty pigs in the world in Japan. It reminded of the Tonkatsu place I went to near Tokyo Station (and referred to at www.seemreal.com, the travelling ishikawas, Japan 03)- the highlight of a trip full of culinary highlights. Maybe I was in luck and had the only good piece of pork that day. A further visit is required.
The following week I met old friend Dave and went to a Korean place on Robson street he had been to before. We both had the mushroom and tofu soup which was surprisingly good. Warming (it was a cold day) without being too spicy. The place reminded me of little restaurants in Tokyo. Dave and I taught English at a school in central Tokyo in the early 80s and Koreana reminded us of those days- we could almost expect to see our students walk in as we ate our soup. I remember when the first Korean restaurant opened in Vancouver in the 70s. Now there are lots of them, and its great to see a variety of Korean food available here now. There's even a sort of Japanese-Korean-Italian fusion place where I live in North Van.

The Blog Ate My Homework

First I couldn't get into the blog. Then I could only post part of it.
A conspiracy of the forces of darkness (notice how the word "force" contains the word "orc"?) determined to bury awareness of the possibilities and long histories of our relationship to plants? Who would believe it. Let's see if this works....

From Darkness Back to Light

Entheogenesis 2 was a 3-day conference just concluded in Vancouver. Scholars from near and far congregated at the ridiculously comfortable Wosk Centre to shed light on the long history of entheogenic plants (what used to be called Psychedelics) in human culture, information that has long been hidden, and many would prefer to keep hidden today.
The discovery of cannabis resin in Shakespeare's pipes did make the news a couple of years ago, but the discoverer himself, Prof. Francis Thackeray of South Africa illuminated his discovery by showing the hidden cannabis references in Shakespeare's sonnets., and wondered if the bard's "Dark Lady" was in fact, cannabis. Although hemp (now the Afrikaans word for "shirt") was a crop that landowners were required to grow, the psychoactive properties of the plant were considered "witchcraft," and so Shakespeare had to hide his real meaning, just as Rabelais (the son of a hemp farmer) did in his book Gargantua and Pantagruel.
The next speaker, Rev. Demuzi gave a history of witch hunts, where mostly women were persecuted and murdered by the millions for their plant lore. Prof. Susan Boyd brought us up to date by showing how women are punished far more severely than men for "drug crimes."
Martin Lee (the author of Acid Dreams) gave a rivetting talk on the effect of mescaline on European literature in the half century before Huxley supposedly popularized "psychedelics." His talk was interrupted by a fire drill- perhaps a metaphor for the way all this knowledge was periodically lost, or interrupted. Chris Bennet's talk on the 19th century hash loving French and occult English segued perfectly with Martin Lee's talk, as did Michael Horowitz's talk on the feminine experience in drug history and Greg's talk on drugs in literature. Enemies of entheogens who often say that no great literature has ever come out of entheogenic drug experiences would be hard pressed to say that after attending this conference.
The history of medicinal and religious drug usage was wonderfully detailed in lectures by Alan Piper on Islam (where hash was banned for entertainment, but was embraced as medicine); Dr. Michael Aldritch on Indian, Asian and African experiences with drugs and finally Prof. Blaise Staples and Carl Ruck on how a mushroom turned into a mermaid and influenced hundreds of years of European history.

Savoury Coast

Taking a break between inspiring talks at the Entheogenesis Conference on Hastings, I walked a mile or so over to Savoury Coast on Robson. It had been lovingly reviewed in the previous week's Georgia Straight, an entertainment weekly that used to be the fountain of counterculture in Vancouver. Would it be worth the rain-soaked walk? I climbed the stairs to find out.
I expected the place to be packed- 7:00 on a Saturday night in the trendiest part of town, but it was oddly empty. Well, more service for me. The Straight review had revelled in the potato and octopus appetizer so that was the first thing I ordered.
I'm learning things about potatoes I never knew. Soy beans slither curiously around my mouth like just evolved fish species. It tastes like octopus. It looks like octopus, but I'd never have guessed it was octopus. And the olives, like Lafayette joining George Washington to liberate the taste buds.
However, along with the bread (so cake-like, I longed for the years in the far distant past when I enjoyed sweets), the potatoes were just too filling, so I finished them not. The recommended wine, a Marcello Canyon Cuvee 03 which intertwines nicely with the octopus but runs into resistance with the olive oil.
I inquire about the Dungeness but cracking your own crab is hardly the reason to go to a restaurant. The crab risotto? Just what I don't need- more starch. Surely the tuna. It says rare but I tell the waiter I only eat fish that have been incinerated enough to appear on 6 Feet Under. I am promised a suitably seared tuna. Some sort of lentil thing comes with it. I await filled with anticipation, and the glass of Cuvee that was really too much for a tidbit of crab and a lot of swimming other things (the basil adds a nice faux seaweed touch) and the Blasted Church Rose, the somellier recommends for the Tuna, arrives far too soon. It and the Cuvee trade nasty glances. A cold wine does wonders for a hot piece of sea food. A room temperature whatever rockets away from its flavour potential, and you're left with dashed posibilities, and for an instant, an impoverished life. Yet they are attentive here. The chef checks in regularly to make sure each bite is to my liking. The waiter, and some other guy who flits in and out of the kitchen, are constantly seeking my approval. I await the tuna. It arrives.
Remember the old (?) Charlie the Tuna ads? Not a tuna with good taste, a tuna that tastes good? This is good tuna. It rolicks in my mouth like a small child in a large fair. Not a hint of sashimi. The truly dead salutes me. The lentils however, seem to have acquired a tank. They invade my tuna-trance like Patton invading the German fashion district. No pattern is spared. After the bread-cake flash to french toast last enjoyed when I was 12, to the potatoes smothered in oil of pressed mystery to the tuna of uncharted realms of goodness, although they mean well with their carefully chosen spices and ingredients and all, the lentils thrash about my tuna appreciation like a jilted Gulliver at a Liliputian wedding. The tuna is topped with 3 shiso leaves, one of my favourite Japanese edibilities. I tell the chef 6 would be better. Particularly with the highly flavoured tuna, not to mention its muscular lentil neighbour, something light, to extend the top note of the fish would be a good direction to consider going. The Blasted Church, which had a strong aftertaste of cognac, and thus a valiant fighter for priority in possibility with the tuna-lentil onslaught, was a worthy suggestion and the somelier is be congradulated, if I didnt do so already. I discussed my displeasure with the lentils amongst the chef and chief server and was told that the taste mix was for the rare tuna, not the severely seared sea creature I requested. The server assures me the tuna is of the highest quality, "used in sashimi" as if this were a category unfamiliar to me. For desert, I have a glass of sangria, which is essentially a glass of pineapple juice, with red wine implied. A sad concoction, but it reminds me of how I cook ahi. A combination of a Kettle of Fish (very good Vancouver fish restaurant) recipe, the Joy of Cooking and Fumiyo's old bbq pit we used to enchant our neighbours with in our home in rural Tokyo. Marinate Ahi in pineapple juice, soy sauce and oil in the fridge for 2 days. Grill. We've been doing that for 30 years. Ahi is not a stranger. It hangs with Don Ho.
I stroll the 2 km back to the conference leisurely and pleasureably sated.
There are more restaurants in Vancouver than anyone could possibly review but this is a start.

Happy Trails

My first trip east in 41 years. Hopefully the next trip won't be another 41 years in the future.
Elayne has even more pics from the NY part of my trip, including my meeting with her comic book people, at her blog in the May archives. From the exquisite veal, duck and pork the Petries prepared until the well-limed Grouper at TGIFridays in the Dallas airport on the way back to Vancouver, and the Manhattan Clam Chowder in Penn Station awaiting my train back to DC, I ate well. Also read a hilarious book Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson, while on the train. I found Bill's latest book A Short History of Nearly Everything in the Dallas Airport bookstore, and although it lacked the comedy of the Small Island, it had a passage about Mason and Dixon, whom I discovered in the Pyncheon novel I acquired in the LA airport last month. Unexpected continuities are usally a good thing, in travelling and in stillness.

In NYC, I discovered this Quicksilver sign.  

Riding the Red Line on the DC metro, I had the song Shady Grove running through my mind. I was surprised to discover it was an actual place. 

What's an ad for my play (http://www.seemreal.com/redshift/) doing in the planetarium?

The Rose Centre with Elayne and our Connecticut friends Doc and Lili. The most 3-dimensional planetarium show I've seen. The chicken at a nearby restaurant was pretty good too (I wonder if Elayne remembers its name? Perhaps its on her blog), but not as good as the cauliflower in tomato sauce at Haveli that Dex turned us on to.

The famous news scroll Can news be famous? 

The Frick delights, both inside and out. One of 3 art museums I explored with Firesign chat friend Dex. I reccommend the Max Ernst show at the Met and the 5th floor at MOMA, though Christina's World, an old fave, was so poorly lit it seemed like an ad for blindness. 

Much of the city looks like this, at least in May. 

Would go well with the play. Fine by itself too. 

Didn't see it. Saw the flick though. 

Amy liked the tuna sandwich smell on my fingers and probably would have enjoyed the flounder at Red Robin. She wouldn't have gotten any of my coconut shrimp though. 

Datsa isn't sure he wants me in the house. Even with the soft shell crab from Nagoya.  

Husband Robin at home, dreaming comic books into existence. 

In NYC to visit Elayne, here posing with some living art. The express bus from her rural NYC house to central Manhattan is a pleasent way to spend 45 minutes and $5.00. 

Haarlem, 1980. 

Harlem goes Dutch. 

Richard Arnold, creator of www.moniqueishikawa.com and old Firesign fan. Soon this table would be covered with surprisingly filling pizza. Thankfully, no anchovies. 

This may or may not be part of the Smithsonian. It had a very instructive exhibit about the tools of architecture. Maybe it still does. 

The next day began with the Modigliani show at the Philips collection in Dupont Circle, and ended with susrprisingly mediocre lobster at the Philips restaurant on the waterfront. The highlight of the day was the exquisitie Tapas restaurant Jaleo pictured here. A picture of the monkfish, garlic shrimp and stuffed red peppers would do them no justice. It was like being in Spain, only in English!

The walkway between the East wing (modern art) and the West wing (the good stuff). While at the West wing, I asked a guard where the Latour was. She said the East wing. But Latour is a 17th century French painter, why would he be in the modern art wing? Thankfully a more knowledgeable guard set me straight.

My first full day in Washington was spent with John, wandering outside the Indian Museum and the Canadian embassy, and actually entering and savouring the art in the National Art Gallery. These pyramids outside the museum really evoked the Louvre.

The quote with the previous image is by the architect Douglas Cardinal from The Native Creative Process by Doug and Jeannette Armstrong. Here's another view of Doug's latest museum. I'll have some images of his First Nations Museum in Regina in a later post. All those curves amidst the right angles of Washington- its like Gaudi reborn. 

Native people have made a tremendous contribution to me. I would not have been able to create the museum without it. They can make a major contribution to everyone. Academic training is fine, but if you lack a centre as an artist then creativity is not possible. I have learned from Native people that the most powerful force is soft power, caring and commitment, together. You need that centre to make a contribution creatively. You need to realize its power to make it realize your vision. You can have visions and dreaming but how you realize them depends on caring and commitment. Soft power is more powerful than adversarial or hard power because it is resilient. By its nature, soft power is giving and flexible but strong. It is woman power, female power.

Raven and First Men on the left, Spirit of Haida Gwai on the right. Sure beats looking at the queen! 

A green version of this sculpture greets visitors to Vancouver airport. It seems to have more impact there in an enclosed space. 

Bill Reid's sculpture The Spirit of Haida Gwai at the Canadian Embassy. Before I saw Bill's Raven and First Men at my alma mater UBC's Museum of Archeology, I didn't like sculpture. Thankfully this changed.

After a few days at Casa Petrie on Flower Avenue in Takoma Park, anyone would turn into an artist. Thankfully John is already. 

The Petries seem to have rented their home from an artist, or at least someone who really appreciates art. Everywhere you look in it, there are objects and images that violently shift the brain into Art mode. 

Almost as small as my two cats, yet as friendly as my massive dog Icy, Trixie stretches in preparation for a busy day. 

Jonah and Trixie the Wonderdog play in their vast yard on the appropriately named Flower Avenue in Takoma Park 

It was an invitation from my friends the Petries that brought me to Washington. Here they are- Anita, John and Jonah preparing some wonderful food. 

The Blog Begins

This blog will be about food, travel, literature, art, architecture, gardening, and more food.
2005 has found me travelling more than any year I can recall- 2 trips to LA, a weekend with the Firesign Theatre in Seattle and most recently 10 days on the US East Coast- the first time I've been there since a guided tour of the coast, from Boston to Williamsburg, with my parents in 1964. Perhaps I still have some pix from that trip somewhere. For now, here are some stills grabbed from the video I shot May 1-10 in Washington DC and New York City- my

Journey to the East

c.simril in another era