Lit criticism I

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgh that really sucked you told me nothing hahahahahahhahahhshahhahhsahahhdf sorry my spelling got eratique

(Small person literary criticism of email)

(small people poetic dispatch totally rocks it)

Inspiring night at Not Sent Letters with admirable contributions.  Especially enjoyed interacting with Charlene Vickers exhibit Vagabond Vestige (or Vestige Vagabond). Highlights including dusting arms with her fringy spoons, delighting in Maria’s stuffed beads that were close to bead boxing gloves … but the yellow walkman and “being an effective Ojibwe eavesdropper tape: lesson 15, The Weather, sentence two “he needs an enema” spawned a gaggle and giggle from the curious once we discovered it.

There was an interesting array of artists/writers and performers working with media, text, music, film, objects: a welcome relief from the sniffy “peacocking” that can prevail at Vancouver-dry art events, where the flag poles have no give in them.

Miners, Booksellers, BC ferries, round off, back flip, yeah, round off, back flip, collapse, not so yeah, liquor store, home, skype look at the size of this cockle, what’s a cockle? oh bollocks I forgot to water the garden, pound, pound, oh bollocks that looks like a rat, it’s a very long walk to the hose across the street would the “insert Mayor vernacular” city ever turn the shaggin water on, rat, shuffle, strawberries gobble, lettuce swipe, spring onion chomp, nice fella at the back who grows flowers in the pitch dark bee chat, watering can to wet clogs to home to icepack to end.

I have never gotten so lost as I got today in Campbell River. I appeared to go to the airport 4 times while attempting to go in the polar opposite direction. By the fourth circle (and it’s a very very long detour when you do it on the scale of what I achieved) I thought fuck it, might as well head to Port Hardy.

Campbell River is a small place! I have been there at least 10 times. How do I manage this neuroscientists?

Lots of people camping inside portable subdivisions. Enlighten me as to why it’s necessary to bring an entire suburb and street lamps on your holidays?

Taking a nap with the coal carriages and capped mineshafts in Cumberland. Dotey place indeed. Snoozing for the working people.

Sign o the economic times. The tattoo parlour has closed in Campbell River.

Oh Jesus the Patron Saint of hangovers is Bibiana. How bout that for some imbibing b’s? Another gloriously uplifting mad house, flogged to death inspiring tale. Gulp.

Quick quiz, this is better than scrabble nearly…

Who is the Patron Saint of Nettle Rash?

Yup.

You got it.

Benedict.

***

For a bonus five points who is the Patron Saint of fistula? (More to the point what the heck is fistula? But if you’ve got it you’ll know it and need the saint)

Yup

Indeed.

You’re right.

It’s Fiacre.

You knew it, tip of your tongue….!

Who knew? It’s Saint Barbara. She’s the patron saint of fortifications and mine collapse, that pretty much covers the poly tunnel/Greenhouse needs.

Babs do what you can me would you? Especially the big dip in the middle of the poly there….

You can read all about her here: it’s pretty gruesome