Evening in June

Movie Night

I’ve been contemplating the role of the surrogate partner in the film The Sessions for weeks. Helen Hunt gives a compelling performance as a therapist that goes all the way with her clients out of compassion, a desire to heal, and a self-declared love of sex. Poet Mark O’Brien, paralyzed after contracting polio as a child, seeks a sex surrogate to make his dream of exploring his latent sexuality a reality. The film is based on autobiographical writings by O’Brien. The Sessions is tastefully filmed, poignant, and guaranteed to make you giggle. I would watch it again in a heartbeat.

This spring I devoured all things Jack Kerouac. It started with the movie On the Road. A film filled with strange moments of seemingly unlikely erotic encounters, drug use, and wild adventures. Or to sum it up nicely: sex, drugs, and jazz. Filmed with the eye of a photographer, On the Road is aesthetically striking. Director Walter Salles did a brilliant job of adapting Kerouac’s book to film. No small undertaking. The film brings believability and humanity to the characters that the book lacks. Actor Sam Riley’s gentle portrayal of Sal Paradise makes him endearing in a way that Kerouac’s writing never accomplishes. (I could fall in love with Sal. An open-minded, attractive French-Canadian writer? Umm... Yes!) Maybe it’s because the film doesn’t stay true to the book that it’s so successful. A point I’m sure hard-core Kerouac fans will find frustrating. 

As for the other semi-fictional books that I’ve read by Kerouac (are any of his books true fiction?), my favourites are Big Sur and The Dharma Bums. The Subterraneans leaves one with much to ponder on the nature of men. The dreadful way protagonist Leo Percepied treats his romantic partner Mardou Fox is exasperating! I do appreciate Kerouac’s honesty in his writing. He leaves nothing out. You see how he ticks, which can be wildly unattractive, yet enthralling. Was Kerouac candid in his writing? Or was he merely taking his readers on a long, fantastic ride? Regrettably, we may never know for certain. Alcoholism killed Kerouac prematurely at the age of 47.

Spring

It was fragrant and soft—the softest air I’d ever known

—and dark, and mysterious, and buzzing. 

—Jack Kerouac

Walk With Me?

Dream

hello, hello, hello

Low tide

स्वाधिष्ठान

Cathedral Grove

Missing You

Feels Like Home

Gratitude

Whatever it is,

I cannot understand it,

although gratitude

stubbornly overcomes me

until I’m reduced to tears.

—Saigyō

Duality

You cannot by any means diverge from the Tao. You may love life or you may loathe it, yet your loving and loathing are themselves manifestations of life.

If you seek union with Reality your very seeking is Reality, and how can you say that you have ever lost union?

—Alan Watts

Forest Hike

Chirpy & Longtail

For a while now, whenever I discover insects or spiders in the house, I try to release them outdoors. I catch them in a little cardboard jewellery box that has a lid. It’s surprising, but spiders will jump right into the box when you place it beneath them. Hope decorated the box with green on the bottom (like grass) and blue on the inside of the lid (like the sky). Maybe they think that they are free-falling into summer…

I do this because it doesn’t feel right killing things—even bugs, which can be bothersome and creepy. Keeping this in mind, it’s probably not that unusual that Hope’s first pet was a cricket. Or rather, nine crickets. Six of them didn’t make it past two weeks, but two females and a male lasted several months. Chirpy, the male, died earlier this week. We miss him. He sang soothingly (and sometimes piercingly!) all winter long. There is one remaining cricket left. Her name is Longtail. Yesterday, as a treat, we gave her apple slices and brought her tank out into the living room with us so that she wouldn’t be lonely.

Is it possible to love an insect? It’s easy to love cuddly animals like dogs, cats, and bunnies. But insects are different. They never get used to you. They are always skittish. I know it’s possible for the heart to stretch beyond its boundaries though. An expanded heart feels an interconnectedness with even the most unlikely things. Through this openness, intuitive communication and compassion arises.

Winter Is Blue

“Winter is probably going to kill me one of these years.” I wrote these words in an e-mail recently. My friend had written to say that he was feeling blue and I was trying to let him know that he wasn’t alone in his misery. On reflection, my phrasing shocked me in its violence and sincerity. I’ve come to the realization that if I had hibernated every winter since I was 11 years old, I would have saved myself every major emotional trauma that I have ever suffered. From being bullied, fired, and significant break-ups, to discovering that my unborn child had a congenital heart defect that required major heart surgery, winter has fucked me at every turn. If only I were a bear, bat, or bumblebee!

Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself (there’s still a week to go until spring), but I think I’m going to make it this winter. I hope, dear reader, you have fared better than me; but if you have not, fear not. Spring is on its way! I went for a long walk in the woods today (one of the only places that makes sense to me these days) and it was so delightful. Early spring cannot be adequately shared in words or photos—it’s about the music of it all. The dripping, trickling, rushing sounds of snow melting. The slightly unnerving sound of tall and bare deciduous trees as they move against each other in the wind. The rustle of pale gold beech leaves that just can’t bear to let go of their branches. The melodious calls of winter birds that seem just as psyched that spring is on its way. And the tap, tap, tapping of small woodpeckers that are eager to snap up all the drowsy, sunbathing insects that emerge on these warmer days. I love it all.

As I edited the photos from my walk today, I realized with regret that none of them capture what I’m talking about here. They all look wintery and show no signs of spring. Nonetheless, the sky, clouds, and landscape looked beautiful to me. As for all the other things mentioned, you will just have to trust me.