artistic endeavours

My boyfriend, Víctor, recently decided to mount a small exhibition when he found himself paying rent in two places for a month. He converted his old flat into a gallery, and put together an artistic exhibition about history, manipulation, public memory, and politics, with a healthy dose of fiction.

A few of us went the day before to put it all up, and the light in the suddenly empty space was so magical that I wanted to share the pictures.









Blouse by Family Affairs

wrapping

I generally try to avoid making excuses for why I haven't blogged but I'm just going to say: moving. no internet. computer passed out (again). followed by a nice round of hysterical cyber-bullying. Anyway, I'm back.

A birthday in three parts: the first, a heavenly dinner with enough wine that I didn't notice the clock ticking me into a new decade.









The second: a birthday picnic in my new apartment before we brought the furniture in. I'll give you a proper tour when the last box has been broken down. On this occasion, we put blankets on the floor and I enjoyed no fewer than FOUR birthday cakes.








Alicia, who made me a wonderful little wooden birdhouse necklace!




The guest book!

The third: a quiet home-made dinner with two close friends who couldn't make the party, with chocolate brioche and warmth and laughter and yes, very red light!







I was worried I'd feel sad being away from my family but really, it's just another birthday, and I couldn't have felt more loved in the home I'm building in my adopted city.

birthday flowers

One minute I´m posting up a storm, and the next thing I know work, birthdays, moving and the general chaos of life have taken over. I hope to share my birthday party and my new flat (pre and post move) with you as soon as possible, and none of the work part!

In the meantime, I turned 30 last week, and here I am bleary-eyed but happy on my birthday morning.

And a Happy Thanksgiving to the Canadians out there!

when giants walked the land...

Do you ever have that feeling when you walk into a cathedral, and you're a bit awestruck, but you know it's just architecture, but you wonder how you might have felt about it walking in 600 years ago, with the ideas and prevailing beliefs of the day? How the vaults soaring above your head really would have seemed to be reaching to heaven, and how the air would be heavy and cold with mysticism?

When the parade of giants came through Barcelona during the La Mercè city festivals, I couldn't help but wonder how the people hundreds of years ago must have felt watching them, and the giant eagles and underworld monsters that are also part of the festivities, go by.

People still turn out in force, from children sitting on their fathers' shoulders, to grandmothers watching from their balconies...


gratuitous shot of me drinking coffee to show off my hair

new wave

And just like that, I was back in Barcelona, where it is still summer, my old haunts are the same as ever, and I'm back to my working/writing/vermouth imbibing ways, borrowing hats and coming home much too late on weeknights. Anyway, this was one of those nights, and I'm loving that I have the chance to still wear my summer dresses a while longer (since my summer to winter wardrobe ration must be about 5:1)

The last few months before leaving I was living with some people I shared a flat with a couple of years ago -- some of you may remember Fraggle, who has since transformed into a skeletal puking machine, he's getting old. For that and other reasons I've been flat-hunting, which has been as ridiculously stressful as it always is but, fingers crossed, I may have something to show you in the next couple of posts!



Photos by Víctor

being bohemian

Even when I go into the office, I can more or less wear what I want, but since I've been working from home for much of the summer, I've been applying that rule even more liberally. On this particular day, it meant wearing a vintage slip that my grandmother had had in the 1940s, trying to make my hair curl a bit, some flower clips, bare feet, and a cup of hot tea clutched compulsively throughout the day.

I felt suitably bohemian, although I can't remember if that made me more or less productive. I did put some proper clothes on when I went for my mid-day walk however... there's only so bohemian you can be in Hamilton, and although this slip is probably thicker and better made than some of my dresses, it's still underwear...

the long and the short of it

My last morning in Montreal was spent with Henri, a hairdresser I'd taken a shine to when he cut my bangs the week before, chopping off all my long hair. I'd been kind of wanting to cut my hair for about two years, but I could never commit, it was just getting long finally, my ex was the kind who balked at short hair and bangs and so on and I wasn't that sure I wanted it short again anyway... all terrible reasons not to cut it, but in the end I'm glad I had it long for a while.

But enough was enough was enough. When staying with my parents I looked at pictures from my early twenties and bemoaned "I was more creative then!" "Weren't we all?" replied Henri, chopping a foot off my hair, "but now we have the chance to be more stylish." Touché, Henri.

I can honestly say I've never regretted a haircut less. I love my short red bob. These pictures were taken the day after it was cut, admittedly after taking trains and buses and taxis and sleeping on it, but still I thought it would never look as good. But it does! It's an idiot proof cut and even I can make it look good. I feel much more like myself and lighter and freer and spend about half the amount of time in the shower so all's well with the world. Except that now I have to go to Montreal every time I want my hair cut.

dressed like a botanical garden

One of my last days in Montreal found me wandering amongst giant leafy sculptures at the Mosaïcultures Internationales at the botanical gardens. It. was. crazy. I loved the elaborate, frequently mystical works, and the fast that it was a grey, muggy day just made the experience more fastastical. A stand out for me were the huge replicas of Easter Island's stone heads in vegetation. An Enya-esque soundtrack made the whole experience a bit strangely Lord of the Rings, but I'll let that pass.

I also borrowed my friend Anna's gorgeous green vintage Austrian dirndl, and blended right into the scenery.

The Mosaïcultures are still on, and while the tickets were (I thought) a bit expensive at $29 for an adult non-resident, you can get in twice on the same ticket and the exhibition was truly bizarre and beautiful.















Photos of me by my friend Emilie

summer in the streets, montreal style

Montreal is famous for its street life in the summer (not so much in the winter, I understand), and we caught a few moments from the Saint-Laurent street festival.