July 29, 2020: Further Immersion into Van Gogh

I return to the Van Gogh exhibition space to paint my version of Starry Night onto a T-shirt.  I take my time to do my masterpiece -- 2½ hours instead of the estimated 30 minutes. How long did Van Gogh spend on his Starry Night?  Surely more than half an hour. The result pleases me. The addition of scattered stars cover up paint splatters and mistakes, but they elevate the shirt from normal to fun.  I place a tail on one orb to represent the comet of recent times: the Neowise.  The $40 shirt is almost as priceless to me as the original work.

July 27: Bloomin' Irises

I pay $40 to experience of one of the few public health sanctioned diversions this summer: the Immersive Van Gogh exhibit. Any outlet for a bit of enjoyment is welcome.  

I spent the past 1½ decades living a couple blocks from Toronto Star’s iconic address at 1 Yonge Street, yet I enter its doors for the first time.  Outside, embedded into the pavement is a marker for Yonge Street’s KM 0, once proclaimed by the Guinness Book of World Records as the longest street in the world, meandering 1896 km through most of Ontario into the next time zone to Rainy River. The street has now been redefined and is only a mere 56 km long.

Inside the cavernous room that once housed the paper’s printing presses, Van Gogh’s tableaux are brought to life.  I wander around from circle to circle, marked to ensure appropriate distance from other participants, as I immerse myself in the 35 minute multimedia show.  Supersized irises bloom and stars twinkle over Arles. 

I leave the exhibit to step inside the reception area of the Toronto Star. Investigative journalism is a strong part of its mandate. Among its many great writers was a young Ernest Hemingway.  Robin Doolittle, one of its talented investigative reporters, revealed Rob Ford’s crack cocaine use. I do my part to help the paper’s survival, getting a literal paper copy delivered to me every weekend.  My colleague remarks,”How old school is that!”

July 23: Exploring Scottish poetry

I sign up for University of Glasgow’s MOOC course on Robert Burns to extend my limited knowledge of the bard, limited to 2 words: “Scottish” and “poet”. My first encounter with the name happened 24 years ago when my supervising professor, Dr. James Trotter, himself an alumnus of the university, mentioned a Robbie Burns supper.  The curriculum includes Toronto on a photo credit so I head out to search for a Robert Burns statue. I had expected a long search among many statues, tediously reading faded inscriptions in search of the one.  Instead, I find the Burns statue prominent—the only one in Allan Gardens. It keeps company with the newly reopened Allan Gardens Conservatory. My only visit in the past was a decade ago, shortly after watching Atom Egoyan’s film, Chloe, where one scene was filmed. A glassed domed greenhouse might not be that enticing in the 30 plus degree summer heat.  Only 2 others are visiting—good for distancing measures, not so good for hydration.  Sweat pours forth as soon as I step inside.  Such a lovely place would certainly be more enticing when enveloped in its warmth in wintry months. 

One line of Burnsian poetry rings true of the times:

    "Of best laid schemes of mice and men…"

He must have been prescient of today's world--of pre-pandemic plans being upturned…

July 21, 2020: Christine Writes Again

Are you still out there?  Was I missed?

Ten years ago, I started this blog, journalling my discovery of art and beauty over a year.

As expected, much has happened in the last 9 years since I stopped writing actively.  Today, I will reintroduce myself to blogging—putting pen to paper once again.  In time, I will give snippets of life in the past decade, updating readers of the twists and turns one traverses in a decade of living.

In April, when staying in place was dictated to most of the world, I searched for ways to satisfy my curiosity.  I head out on my bicycle daily, exploring a different street each day.  I embrace empty streets during early pandemic times.  Normally, all my attention is concentrated on safe biking on Toronto streets.  For the first time in years, I take short glances at the many buildings that had been erected in the interim.  I have the luxury to stop and admire, no longer rushing at my usual frenetic "life to the fullest” pace.  I search for beauty, whimsy, surprise.  I spy an ornate art deco archway, a curious street art tableau, an expressive sculpture, new public spaces.

Dimensions of my world has shrunk:  boundaries delineated by my stamina on a bike. Yet much is here to inspire.  Let me take you on this renewed journey to explore the world.