Low Looks Back

So many moments, some little, some big, some laughable, and some even stung like a bugger.

Year Defining statements:

So many things read, heard, screamed, whispered, and of course discovered. Here are but a few:

"Salad on a stick"

"We're just friends."

"One day you'll just be walking along, and you're going to have this most amazing feeling, and you're gonna go like 'Oh my God!' and and it's going to be amazing"

"I think I might be your biggest fan."

You are what you love, not what loves you.
- adaptation

Night and day were no more than relative terms
- from Paul Auster's New York trilogy

"I'll get what I want."

"On Three, Jump!"

Trying to find Chinatown!
from Joe Jackson, Chinatown

"Gay Boys Smell Nice"

Now don't mind me, it's just that,
vipers define me and I never thought
it'd be this way.
from Certain things you ought to know by Destroyer

Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away.
-- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

I woke up from a nightmare this morning. Funny how dreams and reality seem indistinguishable lately. I know it will come true, soon.
- Low's - July 15th 2004

"Yeah, the Sandbar is good, lots of targets."

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...
-Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Love, love will tear us apart again.
- Joy Division, Love Will Tear Us Apart

If we're lost, then we are lost together.
- Blue Rodeo, Lost Together

"Hope you're ok..."

Year Defining Moments

Just a few that stand out among the best, and well, a few of the worst too:

-Yah!-Smoking weed in the dressing room at a fashion show, nude models all around in a state of undress, but I was, ahem, too busy to notice.

-Uhh!- Seeing my little one cry in the kitchen.

-Yah!- Stumbling up Park Ave, very drunk, and seeing the Empire State Building at 430 in the morning on my first night in Manhattan.

-Yah!- Making out with the lovely Piper, from Boston, on a garden patio at a night club in the west village.

-Yah!- Having Drinks with Veronica, from Brooklyn, in an east village pub.

-Yah!- The Mad Hatter Party on May 23rd, was a rowdy evening that set the stage for the rest of the summer.

-Yah!- Seeing the Yankees in the Bronx.

-Uhh!- An infiltration of privacy, sanctity, and the most perverse sense of friendship played out over the year, and coming in part from an entity we used to make fun of on TV, and laugh about. Now that really is sad.

-Undecided!-Flying over the Gate Bridge on my way to a ferry with a borrowed black sports coupe, the sunroof open, SOSO playing on the stereo, blue skies above, fist in the air, and tears in the corners of my eyes.

-Uhh!- Celebrating a Birthday without the guest of honour one afternoon on the beach in July. We shared some McDonald's and tried not to miss her too much.

-Yah!- Reading Dickens in the heat of the summer sun, and taking most of the summer to finish it.

-Yah!- An Xmas morning that most married men would kill for. If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.

-Yah!- Taking part in a new media art show at a gallery downtown, curated by a nice chap 10yrs my junior.

-Uhh!- My attempts at a party on Canada day was an absolute disaster when an hour before guests were to arrive I decided to develop the flu. I hosted most of the evening with a fever, and said some very odd things.

-Uhh!- Lying on the floor of the city hospital in mind bending, reality removing pain. The lovely nurses decided to punish me with a late admission to a bed on their obvious assumption that I was a drug user.

-Yah!-Watching the Saddest Music in the World on a hot sunny afternoon with Leroy and McHardy, and then drinking Maudite for the next 6 hours at a small roadside cafe.

-Uhh!- The passing of K, the towing of the K car, and finally weeping in Winnipeg, alone.

-Uhh!- Missed a wedding in Alberta.

-Yah!- Seeing The Dears in Winnipeg, at a bar that held much history.

-Uhh!- Trying to be the good guy, renting a truck, smashing it up, and then losing it all in the end.

-Yah!- Swarm, a festival for artist run culture spawned four days of partying I won't soon forget.

-Yah!- Victory day, we sat outside and watched some of the best bands in the hometown rock out under a harvest sunset. Saying good bye to the summer never sounded so good.

-Yah!-Playing my first rehearsal in a band that I had been invited to be in, on my birthday in a Chinatown jamspace.

On January 3rd, Low's will be one year old. Whithin that short space of time Low's has gone from an experiment to see if anyone would read a blog by a guy, a patehtic tool of passive aggressive behaviour, and a sounding board for difficult periods in one man's life, however trivial they may seem. One thing has remained constant though, I think, and that is the investigation of ones sense of self through the culture of the masses. Pop Culture, often referred to as Low culture treated in a Big and Tall way. It's what you have come to expect, gentle reader, and it's what I will try and provide on a semi regular basis. Thanks, Happy New Year, and, Read on....

All the Best

It's the most wonderful time of the year
There be much mistletoe-ing
And hearts will be glowing
When loved ones are near
It's the most wonderful time of the year, ooh ah

From my frosty place on the outskirts of the edge I can see the coloured lights beckoning me from the past. Red, green, some blue, they twinkle through the tight air of winter like a dickens christmas mirage. Cards sag on a string from the weight of the well wishers, and laughter can be heard from the avenues of the city so very far away. I lie on the white snow, naked. A large steel clamp around my ankle cuts deep to the bone and keeps me in this place, the present, where the past and the future meet in the sharpness of ice and snow. I lash out and pull on the chain trying to get somewhere, anywhere, but movement only results in pain.

Every so often I am paid a visit, offered food and warmth. But like a wounded animal, I have gone into survival mode. I recoil from all contact, show my fangs when I am approached by anyone, and have the look of fear in my eye. Thoughts are obscured and confused by the trap that holds me to this place. So I will sit here in the cold, on the outside, even if it kills any hope for a solution to the awful truth that has brought me here.

Merry Christmas, from Low

AHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!

"YES !"
No - no - no - no - no - no
No - no - no - no - no - no
Oh ...

Bank Shot

La réalité étant trop épineuse pour mon grand caractèr -

Thoreau in the tub, and Rimbaud over two pints of pilsner at the bar downstairs. I have lofty ambitions lately. I knew it long ago, but now I embrace its fancy. I don't belong to your world.
I was disgusted by your place of work, you, you banker. Your company proudly displaying Coast Salish art while you stockpile cash on land that isn't yours, yet you throw around petty authority like you own the place.

I noticed your panty lines as you led us to your cubicle amongst the many. As you typed keys and looked concerned I smirked at the bad picture of your husband behind you. A quick inventory of this supposed place of importance revealed some books, a wedding photo of your in-laws, two sparkling rings on your manicured hands, and mints in a clear jar that have never been opened. We have thrown your day for a loop, gentle banker, perhaps you will lie in bed tonight and ponder us.

I couldn't take my eye off the ceiling. So rigid, perfect really. A massive grid of lights some sixty feet above the walls of the cubicle we sat in. It spread over everything, unifying everyone under one purpose, watching, keeping things in order. Instead of intimidation, I felt relaxation. The person I had to visit you with, banker, I had not seen in some time. We must exchange our pleasantries when and where we can. We carried on, disinterested in the fact that you were studying our profiles, making judgements.

"Maybe you should go to Vegas?"
"Did you dye your hair?"
"You've seen these shoes before, I got them in New York. Maybe you should just go to New York."
"How are your parents?"
"I don't much like him"

But the banker was always interrupting us, asking this and that. At one time her inquiries would have made me feel small, but lately I am strong. I was removed from the account, deemed undesirable. And really, that's quite all right with me. Because, dear banker, what I don't care about can't hurt me. I am learning that your world of numbers, profiles, and histories have little relevance in the timeless circles that I occupy. Places where impressive jewellery and financial profiles mean nothing. Money cannot stay with you, it merely gets passed around and distributed once you're gone.

It is longevity that influences me. Things like Thoreau's observations about human nature during his time in a small cabin at Walden Pond, or the youthful embrace of freedom discovered in Rimbaud's musical prose. These delights are accessible to everyone, almost anywhere. In the bar, or lying in the bottom of a hot bath, free of scrutiny, and you certainly don't need an appointment.

In The Rain

Thinking about what a
Friend had said
I was hoping it was a lie.
-- Neil Young, After the Goldrush

I like things that are steady and constant, reliable even. I don't want it to stop raining. It has been raining since yesterday morning. I walked through the rain to have lunch at a sushi bar. The woman that runs it still remembered my name. I haven't been there in months. Later in the evening, sitting at the bar downstairs, I would do constant checks out the window to make sure that the downpour had not stopped. Yup, still raining, as Nymphalidae turned to hide her tears from the bartender while she ordered another double Bushmills. What is one to say? Nothing, but I can listen.

The rain spit on my forehead, kept it slick and cool, as I walked up to the gallery on the corner to say hi to Leroy. What art? We stood at the back, staying close to where the drinks were being served. We smiled a little, laughed a little, drank a little, and took some pictures. I ran to the cab, my feet splashing in puddles that seemed to have and endless supply of water to keep them full. The window of the cab was steamed with a light film that allowed for a distorted view of the urban lights. Hot pinks and steel blues reflecting on the wet leather jackets of the couples running up the avenue to their reserved tables. Hindu pop blared on the delco stereo. The driver never stopped talking on his cellphone.

I watched Ananta get dressed through the crack in the bathroom door while I uncorked the Gewurztraminer. A fantastic meal of fowl, seafood, and imported cheese followed. We sat by the window slowly eating, and from her perch on the east side I could see the blades of grass collectively drink in the nourishment falling in sheets of grey from above. Her apartment was lovely and I imagined myself hiding there forever. Signs would be plastered all over the neighbourhood offering a reward for information as to my whereabouts. Ananta would feed me, dance for me, love me. Eventually I would cease to exist.

Waiting for the bus with the rest of the urban revellers, I watched the black street dance with an infinity of silver slivers. Taking my seat towards the front of the coach , the sound of electricity arcing from one place to another could be heard as the bus banged its way along the inside lane of the street. Water was leaking in through a rivet on the roof and dropping onto my knee. If it wasn't for the occasional view of a building or person through a light spot in the fog on the window, I would think we were underwater. I arrived at my block, cut through the alley and looked up to the spread of windows that my place occupied on the fourth floor. I could see a light hint of red glowing from inside, and the building looked timeless, cold, and slightly fleeting. Within three minutes I was standing in my home, looking out the windows I had just been studying from the street, watching the alley I had just come through. I hoped for a lapse in time so I could watch a replay of the moments that had just unfolded from a different angle. The puddles down below were still overflowing, and with that comforting vision, I went to bed. I hope it doesn't stop raining.