Pandemic Journal 19/8/22 – Some of my favourite things

Sleep Glorious Sleep AKA Temporary Unconsciousness of the COVID-haired Nap Queen With Aged Jowl (the latter autocorrects to “Jewel”, thank you) Snapshot: Beloved Bumblebee en Famille Still Singing Her Praises With Love Uncle Garry’s Sculpture Garden My Almost First Date With Cute Favourite Home Baker (introducing ‘my mother’s spicy muffins’) Then. With Coco Ming Poodle.… Continue reading Pandemic Journal 19/8/22 – Some of my favourite things

Remembering Bill Lane

Bill Lane was born in 1951 and died December 30, 1951. He was a director and producer of theatre and radio drama, a dramaturg, a playwright, and a teacher. After his CBC career, he earned an MA in Social & Political Thought and a PhD in Theatre Studies from York University. Bill Lane was a life-long friend who was loved and admired by many.

Pandemic Journal 26/6/22 — when “death leaves us homesick” 

On mourning and melancholia. On the loss of friends and lovers. And the loss of women’s rights to abortion in the U.S. so courageously gained 50 years ago. Melancholia must give way to action. Change via feminist transformation cannot be counted on to remain. Stay engaged! The struggle continues!

Pandemic Journal 27/6/22 — “Come into my garden” or Asteya, stealing time

Experience life just as it is… Sweet June. Is she of Summer or of Spring,Of adolescence or of middle-age?A girl first marvelling at touch of loversOr else a woman growing ripely sage?Between the two she delicately hovers,Neither too rakish nor, as yet, mature.She's not a matron yet, not fully sure;Neither too sober nor elaborate;Not come… Continue reading Pandemic Journal 27/6/22 — “Come into my garden” or Asteya, stealing time

Pandemic Journal 12/2/22: The Bridge – what yoga means to me

Yoga means “to yoke”, to join, to bridge. “Only connect”, wrote novelist E M Forester when I read his famous novel Howard’s End in my first undergraduate English class in 1969. My professor said: Only connect. For me, now 
more than fifty years later, 
yoga’s connections expand into a rejuvenation 
of the body and the mind. Yoga means holding out for more. Not giving up or giving in. It means giving up. Giving in. Yoga means sensual pleasure 
and the erotic spring. It means contemplative disembodied reflection. Yoga means somewhere between these spaces
of opposition -
an ease in whatever emerges.