Sunday, May 5, 2024

I LOVE Jacob Lusk


Jacob Lusk blew me away with his performance of Bennie and the Jets, at the ceremony for Elton John’s and Bernie Taupin’s Gershwin Award. Here is a genius performer!

Saturday began at 7:30 am, when Stacy and Bryce arrived with their dogs, Otis and Sadie, to walk with Sheba and me. It was a cloudy morning, but warm and a gazillion insects were buzzing all around us as we walked. That was nasty and not something I’ve ever noticed before.

It was a great walk, and once home, I puttered around the house until lunch time. I fed the brood and then started working outside because it had become sunny and toasty warm—20° at noon. I used my girlie chain saw to reduce two huge fallen branches to burnable pieces, visited the worksite next door, and then Ron came to pick up Her Highness to take her for a walk. 

I kept at the gardening until they returned, and then H.H. and I went to Eoin and François’ place to fetch another load of rocks for the new garden. Once home, I unloaded the rocks and placed them around the new bed. It was wonderfully satisfying to bring order to the new bed around the massive ferns that came with this place. The entrance to my backyard is much more appealing now!

Then it was time for a spa. And oh, how lovely it was to slip into the warm water while feeling the slight breeze of fragrant forest air on my face—and the view of Andrew working on the roof next door. It was great way to end a workday of reasonable accomplishment in the gardens. 

In the evening, I did my usual walkabout. I love the new bed and its rocks. 

I’ve moved into the details phase of my gardens. As the plants mature and expand, the gardens are looking good, so now I am turning to details. The details really make the gardens shine. Once I get clearance to work from my eye doctor, I’ll be turning my attention to chain sawing the big branches surrounding the chucked wood I want to have split by Joe. Plus, I must buy and stack a few cords.

I’m glad that I’m feeling proud of my garden. And I feel better about not using the studio I had rebuilt from a ruined building. The yard and shed are my studio. Creativity has been a strong force in me. I started putting on plays in our garage when I was 5. Creativity is in my blood. What a miracle. My attachment to the arts was also my field of work. 

I’ve always been ashamed that I was never research oriented. I wasn’t really interested in what other people did. I wanted to do things my way and learn as I went. I was born this way, and that’s why I didn’t do a master’s degree, and never read manuals, and wing vacations, etcetera. Born this way. 

I don’t feel ashamed anymore. I just love jumping in and doing things. Just think: I got a contract to design and build a small theatre for the Arts Council of North Vancouver. My project was to renovate a very large empty space attached to the civic art gallery and museum. Me, with my English degree. It took me just over a year to get it open.

I had no right to, but I had absolute faith in my capacity to do it. And I did it. And my dresses. No research. Instead, I wrote up a fake history and provenance of the 13 dresses I made. They were life size, and mostly made of paper. Everything entirely from my imagination. I love spending every second spent on a project, doing things, not researching how to do things. Born this way.

I know, I could change. Maybe I’m lazy, maybe I’m a egoist, or maybe I’m addicted to an endorphin rush from being creative. Probably 90% of my lifetime income (not including real estate profits) was from technical writing, and most contracts required research. I could do it for others, but I liked doing my self-determined projects my way.

I think the best thing about my passion for the arts, is the people I’ve met along the way. I met Dwight in a show we did together. And three important friends, Bruce. Leslie and Beth. I’m glad my life rolled out the way it did. I have always deeply loved the arts. 

The second-best part was I loving every day of my work, and there were many wonderfully fulfilling days. The best one, I reckon, was the day I found out that a play that I co-wrote, stage managed, and produced had printed a magnificent rave review in the Show Out of Town column of Variety in New York. I was about 30 years old then.

This garden of mine at Pinecone Park is likely my last creative project.

And here's Billy Porter's fabulous performance of The Bitch is Back at the same Gershwin Award ceremony for Elton John and Bernie Taupin.
















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