Progressively Louder Laughter

July 12, 2018

Rituals 2

Rituals-2

I have now gotten into the habit of biking to work, meaning I have now incorporated the waterfront into my routine. I love it, but I do miss my reading and music-time commute. I think I need to alternate to keep some sense of balance.

I have been reading ‘The Power of Myth’ by Joseph Campbell. I have felt some kind of obligation to read it after so many mentions of ‘Joey Cams’ by Pete Holmes on his podcast ‘You Made it Weird’. It’s good to read. I can leave the world of work pressure (it is relentless and insurmountable) and think about something more abstract. Today, my vacation is in thinking about myths and why we need them.

At times, I think I can be boiled down to an angsty rejector of myths and the rituals that spring from the stories we are told for various, nebulous reasons.

However!

I am compelled to agree with Joseph Campbell on why myths (in general) still have an important place in our society. He argues that myths make up many invisible and unanimous unspoken agreements that inform how we behave and interact in our communities. The act of passing down stories from one generation to the next informs our sense of fairness, our sense of who we are in the world and our shared syntax.

Even his explanation on the ritual of marriage is quite beautiful (though somewhat fantastical and romantic):

[On marriage] “The myth tells you what it is. The reunion of the separate duad. Originally you were one. You are now two in the world, but the recognition of the spiritual identity is what marriage is. It’s different from a love affair. It has nothing to do with that. It’s another mythological plane of experience. When people get married because they think it’s a long-time love affair, they’ll be divorced very soon, because all love affairs end in disappointment. But marriage is the recognition of a spiritual identity.”

For many years, I have been operating as a contrarian; rejecting marriage and certain societal expectations for what it means to be a young (HA!) woman. I don’t think my stance has changed dramatically, but maybe I am softened by reading this book, and also about Patti and Fred Smith- a true duad.

Maybe I am just getting soft in my old age.

And though I may reject certain aspects of the myth I do find that there is a charm to it’s entanglement with ritual. Maybe it’s some yearning to find comfort in the exhaustion of the grind, and in contrast, the lull of silence. Maybe, there is just a comfort in patterns.

—

I spent this week with friends, old and new. I went to see a play that my incredibly talented friend Janneke did the costumes for (I feel so much pride for her and her work).

On the weekend, I spent time drinking and playing guitar to an audience of two. It’s true that my friends were simply humouring me, but I don’t care. I am a middle child who needs sudden bursts of attention. This pattern is one I know to be true.

I also rode to Tommy Thompson Park and drank beers while my skin burned. Lesson has yet to be learned.

30 Minute Playlist: Ritual 2

^Fringe festival play

^Happy eyes. Happy tummy.

^Tommy Thompson Park, rubber necking Steph.

Life’s a bi/each

July 4, 2018

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Rituals 1

About a year ago I started reading the book “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” by Haruki Murakami. The book is a series of essays about the ritual of running as well as the parallels and the impact it has had on Murakami’s process as a writer.

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Over the last few months, work has mushroomed to the outer limits of my free time. Reading a book about running only evoked a fresh guilt about the lack of fresh foods, exercise, and overall healthy habits in my daily life. Naturally, it was only when I started exercising again that I found myself back in with this book and feeling smug.

I digress.

It has come to my attention that many of the writers/memoirists that I feel most drawn to are people who practice their own self-motivated rituals.

Murakami, as I have mentioned, runs. He approaches running in a holistic way. His body is a vessel to be molded by determination. It is his will that allows him to achieve what is beyond his existing abilities. In a way, it is a metaphor for the perseverance and patience that is required to create something that is meaningful and beautiful. To bring something that is out of reach into existence. For more pragmatic purposes, it allows him the singular focus he needs as a writer- an important component of any creative process.

Patti Smith spends much of M Train in Cafe ‘Ino, drinking coffee. She talks to the barista, she writes and draws. The coffee shop feels like a church; community, creation, and a reverence fit only for the most precious, delicious commodity given to the most tired and unfocused sinners: coffee.

David Sedaris copes with his OCD by spending hours a day picking up garbage from the side of the road. It earned him an invitation to Buckingham Palace. What has your mental disorder done for you lately?

It’s true that I have taken up this ritual of documenting my life, but while I read about Murakami’s training as a runner I feel a desire to introduce something new into my routine. Last week, I got a bike for my birthday. I rode across the city, struck with a deep admiration for the lake as the sun was setting in cotton candy hues above the water. I have always been in awe of the vastness and calm of large bodies of water. I can’t help but feel moronic for not taking advantage of how close I am to the lake. I know that I must make it my routine to spend regular time near lakes, oceans, and maybe a few mountains whenever possible.

Most of all, I am curious to see how embracing routine (mundane, active, or life-enriching) will change my life over time. I am not interested in being comfortable. I’m not interested in gunning through each day, working endlessly towards an undetermined goal. I want what Murakami works towards incremental changes for long term results.

30 Minute Playlist – Ritual 1

Pictures of the week:

^ you lift very slowly one black tree, and place it against the sky: slender, alone.

And you have made the world.

(From Entrance by Rainer Maria Rilke)

^Weekend music and totally natural plant and my brand new Swedish mug from my cousin Jenny

^ Cheesy baked dough. melted cheese, you are the key to my heart

^my beautiful and talented friend Janni

June 16, 2018

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Grace

Gracejones

This week, I went to see the documentary: Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami.

The film definitely meandered, although ultimately it was a mixture of three components.

It began with her notable live performance. Theatrical, visually striking and of course, entertaining- with hula-hoops, masks, and bizarre hats. They pepper footage of her performances throughout the film. At one point during an interview, she says that all of the electricity could go out in the theatre, complete darkness, no microphones or music and she could still captivate the audience (I find this hypothetical situation fascinating).

Throughout the film she visits several figures from her past- her family and neighbours in Jamaica as well as her former partner and collaborator Jean-Paul Goude. During many of these visits, she discusses her difficult relationship with her pious and abusive Father. At one point she talks about some insight her acting coach had on her performances, which are famously described as androgynous. He proposes that in a lot of her performances she evokes the rage of her violent Father. This makes watching the performances all the more interesting. She is quite the performance artist, even at the age of 60.

Finally, the films takes us through the recording of her album and the struggle to control the process and to maintain her artistic vision. We see some part of the business side that comes part and parcel with any work that intends on having a platform. There is one part of the film that shows her in France doing a rehearsal of La Vie En Rose to a studio audience. She finds that they have made the decision to have her perform while sitting on a stool, surrounded by young dancing girls who are wearing lingerie. After her performance, she explains to the producer that she looks like a madame of a brothel- not an image she wants to be associated with. He denies that this is how the performance is going to be perceived, that they are just beautiful girls who are dancing. Exasperated, she responds vehemently: ‘We are visual artists! We know what we see!*’

* I am paraphrasing.

I am not sure how interesting the film would be to someone who does not know about or care for Grace Jones. To me, she is absolutely fascinating. In my room I have the back cover of one of her records displayed on top of my bookshelf; a symbol of strength, sexuality, and of powerful and complicated women.

– – –

In 2014, I bought my first Grace Jones album in a record shop called Haggle Vinyl in London, England. This is where I discovered that record covers from around the world are made with a flimsy kind of card-stock (at least in decades past). The record store owner was a grumpy, excitable character. While I was thumbing through piles of records, he was momentarily fascinated by a young girl from Hong Kong. He proclaimed to the entire store: ‘she is a drummer in a band and the owner of a Jazz bar in Hong Kong- fascinating!’ I looked up expecting to see some version of ‘exotic girl drummer in a band’ but found that she was more meek and unassuming, blushing at the sudden captive audience.

At this store, I also bought: The Sugarcubes, Emmylou Harris, Peggy Lee, and the most withered copy of Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road to exist.

When I went to pay for my bounty the record store owner pointed a finger at me and said “I hear an accent! Australian?”

“No-“

“No! Let me guess… American? Yes, American!”

“Actually, I am Canadian.”

“Oh. Hm! So, 5 records today?”

And so he was not quite fascinated with me. But I do have him to thank for being the first of many international record store owners to incite love and well…fascination for grumpy, excitable characters that spend their days with music and stacks of records.