I just discovered that Mr. Dave Fleming has a webspace. I read some of his this and that. I vaguelly remember something of art, a conversation with a mad potter, that i quite liked. Seems easier to leave lifes duality as spirit and form, than saying communication and whatever else (i'll read it again). Still good though. Yin/Yang, it's all there.
At any rate, reading a journal i like made me wonder about my ol' fridge buzzings and what not. I wrote a page out of a paper journal. I'm gonna see what parts of it are regarded as transferable to the webland of temperary permanence.
Why does my blog suck?
Do i have anything to say?
I think i can just talk about what i'm doing with my days, and hope that enough personality and personability comes through. I hope i can entertain.
As long as i write now and again, about either a specific event or a daily habit, an effort to keep people abreast of what i do is fine. Writing in other forms is good too. Keep the text-mind coordination in check.
(end of paper trail)
So yeah... i guess what we can all learn from this is that i want to entertain. My blog is personally considered more for other people than for me. I can't profess to know what anyone might take from this. Hopefully it's a place people go when they want to be reminded of simon. Hopefully whatever i've written most recently is a tasty treat.
I've thought before that aims to entertain are where the world of art falls apart. If i'm writing for you, i'm not writing for me, and somewhere within that little mixup, my writing gets stupid.
But hey, i'm always writing for me, sorta. I like typing. I like seeing black text show up on a white screen and know on some level that these are my thoughts made visible. It's pretty effing neat, when you think about it.
But gawd, shouldn't there be some substance? Could i just blabber on about the textile rug this keyboard is lying on? How the patterns are really quite nice, but that the mouse doesn't move so good so the minesweeper scores that bonnie and I have been putting up could've been a little better even though we easily destroyed the scores that were on the computer when we showed up? Truthfully, i forget what that question mark wonders.
I made up a new game this week. Bon and I have played it twice. It's played with two (or more?) people, a pen and paper. It's good when you're in a strange land and have nothing to do. So dave and brit, i'd say it's worth your time.
We pass the paper back and forth taking turns writing down things we'd like. That's it. Minds are kept in the positive dreamy sort of state, only nice things are thought of, and not many words are said. It's peaceful and lovely. Both times we did it we stopped writing after three pages. I'll give a little exerpt.
a knee length coat (maybe trench style)
to sleep outside
to go swimming
to see someone i've never met playing one of my songs (busker)
to go to germany with my grampy
to understand relativity
a stronger stomach for amusement park rides
to run as hard as i can
to have magical powers
a music teacher
a pen pal
a really nice pen i don't lose
to have a kickass halloween costume
a peaceful revolution
a sailboat
a chess timer
to knit myself a purse
to discover people have played GO in my absense
This stuff goes on and on and on. I always feel great while i'm playing. Great when it's my turn to think. Great when it's Bons turn to think. Great when we're done. I'm sure it sounds lame. It's usually accompanied by wine and ciggerettes, and a cool evening in the backyard. I guess you guys have winter and shit. Bummer.
simon
I'd classify things as lovely. Weather is still rocking good. Bon and I have been living it up a little (bottles of wine the last couple evenings, a pack of ciggies, and today we bought a pie).
Not too much to say about day to day living, though. We're just living quiet, solitary lives in Buenos Aires. We go to the park to hang out, or go buy groceries. I've been playing alot of bass, doing a lot of reading and writing (muchos poemas!) and both bon and I have been sketching.
I've been rocking the couchsurfing scene a little bit, trying to prep the terrain for some amigos in what lands will welcome us in future days. Most hoping for a dude in Cordoba, Argentina and Cusco, Peru.
simon
As Aine mentioned, La Boca means "mouth". This area of Buenos Aires was named such because its right next to the mouth of a river.
Today Bonnie and I, going for a walk through La Boca, were mugged.
I'd say about two blocks from home, we were heading to the nice touresty part of la boca to see about a blues bar that we'd read about in Lonely Planet's South America on a Shoestring Budget Travel Guide.
A boy (certainly under twenty), as we approached shoed away a younger person, picked up a piece of a broken bottle by the neck and held it near my neck. Grabbing me by the shoulder, he said some things that i didn't understand. In a few moments i began to understand what was going on.
He took our wallets, emptied them of about 80 pesos and 20 american dollars and left.
Bon was real cool about the whole thing, even saying that she didn't have her wallet in her purse until he shouted at her enough and was going to go through it himself.
I guess it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to do anything serious. Because of this, i felt really sheepish afterwords. My heart was going at a pretty good pace, and i felt i could've handled it better. Brushing him off was probably possible.
But that's hindsight, and in reality i should know that losing thirty dollars each is no issue.
This all happened at about 1:00 in the afternoon. Not a very busy street, but certainly far from the dark alley one might imagine.
So that's bon, cool as a cucumber. I found myself squeezing her hand pretty tight as we walked on to our destination. I was embarassed it happened, and looked for ways to blame myself. Now, six hours later, i feel fine. I don't think i'd walk the exact same street (although it wasn't the first time i was on it) but i'd still walk around this neighbourhood. I will, however, only carry as much money as i need from place to place, the american dollars i had on me were completely unusable.
Peace though, to you and yours.
simon
Things got better once i caught some Z's on the heavy flight south.
Imagine my shegrin when arriving in buenos aires on tuesday, in jeans and a longsleeve shirt. I was told that the local temperature was 37 degrees celcius. Oh my, i thought. I hope i've got a change of clothes.
The questions about a change of clothes came from our halifax to toronto leg. We were supposed to fly halifax-montreal-toronto, but montreal had a mean fog rolling through. Our montreal flight was two hours delayed.
We tried early on to catch a standby flight to toronto, but it didn't pan out. At this point our montreal flight was only one hour delayed, so it was still possible to make the connection.
We walked around the airport for an hour or two, and noticed on the board that our flight had been delayed an additional hour. Unsure of where this would leave us, we took our place in the Air Canada Customer Service Line-up.
I like listening to people chatter. Some people were in good moods, some people in bad moods. Everyone feeling their story was worth telling. Not unlike myself!
We were told that our flight to montreal would give us about 30 minutes to get onto our toronto flight, this was apparently somewhat non-perfect, but it was more time then we'd expected to have. In a stunningly well played move, i suggested that we wait standby on a flight direct to toronto which was to leave 15 minutes before our twice delayed flight to montreal.
We got on our standby flight, leaving us a guarentee that we'd arrive in muchos time for our buenos aires connection. Our luggage on the other hand, was still tagged to take the montreal flight. Landing in buenos aires, we didn't know what to expect.
Our bags were there. My bass was not. Memories of losing my one and only first guitar on a bus from nashville to toronto were kicking and screaming through my head, as i politely filled out a missing baggage form and exited the terminal.
2 days later, the airport called to say they had my bass and they'd be dropping it off that evening around 8:00. They showed up at 7:30.
We live in La Boca. It's kind of seedy, an older part of town to be sure. We found a great area by the waterfront yesterday (our best aimless walk to date) where there were tons of touristy crafty baubbles, one extraordinary art gallery, and a string of about four restaurants within 200m that had live music and salsa dancing out in front. The buildings are as colourful as National Geographic would have us believe. The people are friendly, and they all want our money. We've been eating super good, buying what seems to be fresh local produce and cooking our own grub in our happy little kitchenette. Getting some sun. Reading, writing, sketching, and playing cards. It's a quiet and easy life, thus far. I'm happy to report.
Love,
simon
I'm planning on drawing a great deal. I'm planning on playing a lot of bass. I'm planning on understanding most spanish i hear.
Light plans, i think. Lots of room between.
Line them up. The good kids. Ripe. I promise we'll take from them as much as they take from us.
I promise to practice drawing.
xoPeaceLove,
simon
At any rate, reading a journal i like made me wonder about my ol' fridge buzzings and what not. I wrote a page out of a paper journal. I'm gonna see what parts of it are regarded as transferable to the webland of temperary permanence.
Why does my blog suck?
Do i have anything to say?
I think i can just talk about what i'm doing with my days, and hope that enough personality and personability comes through. I hope i can entertain.
As long as i write now and again, about either a specific event or a daily habit, an effort to keep people abreast of what i do is fine. Writing in other forms is good too. Keep the text-mind coordination in check.
(end of paper trail)
So yeah... i guess what we can all learn from this is that i want to entertain. My blog is personally considered more for other people than for me. I can't profess to know what anyone might take from this. Hopefully it's a place people go when they want to be reminded of simon. Hopefully whatever i've written most recently is a tasty treat.
I've thought before that aims to entertain are where the world of art falls apart. If i'm writing for you, i'm not writing for me, and somewhere within that little mixup, my writing gets stupid.
But hey, i'm always writing for me, sorta. I like typing. I like seeing black text show up on a white screen and know on some level that these are my thoughts made visible. It's pretty effing neat, when you think about it.
But gawd, shouldn't there be some substance? Could i just blabber on about the textile rug this keyboard is lying on? How the patterns are really quite nice, but that the mouse doesn't move so good so the minesweeper scores that bonnie and I have been putting up could've been a little better even though we easily destroyed the scores that were on the computer when we showed up? Truthfully, i forget what that question mark wonders.
I made up a new game this week. Bon and I have played it twice. It's played with two (or more?) people, a pen and paper. It's good when you're in a strange land and have nothing to do. So dave and brit, i'd say it's worth your time.
We pass the paper back and forth taking turns writing down things we'd like. That's it. Minds are kept in the positive dreamy sort of state, only nice things are thought of, and not many words are said. It's peaceful and lovely. Both times we did it we stopped writing after three pages. I'll give a little exerpt.
a knee length coat (maybe trench style)
to sleep outside
to go swimming
to see someone i've never met playing one of my songs (busker)
to go to germany with my grampy
to understand relativity
a stronger stomach for amusement park rides
to run as hard as i can
to have magical powers
a music teacher
a pen pal
a really nice pen i don't lose
to have a kickass halloween costume
a peaceful revolution
a sailboat
a chess timer
to knit myself a purse
to discover people have played GO in my absense
This stuff goes on and on and on. I always feel great while i'm playing. Great when it's my turn to think. Great when it's Bons turn to think. Great when we're done. I'm sure it sounds lame. It's usually accompanied by wine and ciggerettes, and a cool evening in the backyard. I guess you guys have winter and shit. Bummer.
simon
G'day guys and dolls.
I'd classify things as lovely. Weather is still rocking good. Bon and I have been living it up a little (bottles of wine the last couple evenings, a pack of ciggies, and today we bought a pie).
Not too much to say about day to day living, though. We're just living quiet, solitary lives in Buenos Aires. We go to the park to hang out, or go buy groceries. I've been playing alot of bass, doing a lot of reading and writing (muchos poemas!) and both bon and I have been sketching.
I've been rocking the couchsurfing scene a little bit, trying to prep the terrain for some amigos in what lands will welcome us in future days. Most hoping for a dude in Cordoba, Argentina and Cusco, Peru.
simon
Welcome to La Boca!
As Aine mentioned, La Boca means "mouth". This area of Buenos Aires was named such because its right next to the mouth of a river.
Today Bonnie and I, going for a walk through La Boca, were mugged.
I'd say about two blocks from home, we were heading to the nice touresty part of la boca to see about a blues bar that we'd read about in Lonely Planet's South America on a Shoestring Budget Travel Guide.
A boy (certainly under twenty), as we approached shoed away a younger person, picked up a piece of a broken bottle by the neck and held it near my neck. Grabbing me by the shoulder, he said some things that i didn't understand. In a few moments i began to understand what was going on.
He took our wallets, emptied them of about 80 pesos and 20 american dollars and left.
Bon was real cool about the whole thing, even saying that she didn't have her wallet in her purse until he shouted at her enough and was going to go through it himself.
I guess it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to do anything serious. Because of this, i felt really sheepish afterwords. My heart was going at a pretty good pace, and i felt i could've handled it better. Brushing him off was probably possible.
But that's hindsight, and in reality i should know that losing thirty dollars each is no issue.
This all happened at about 1:00 in the afternoon. Not a very busy street, but certainly far from the dark alley one might imagine.
So that's bon, cool as a cucumber. I found myself squeezing her hand pretty tight as we walked on to our destination. I was embarassed it happened, and looked for ways to blame myself. Now, six hours later, i feel fine. I don't think i'd walk the exact same street (although it wasn't the first time i was on it) but i'd still walk around this neighbourhood. I will, however, only carry as much money as i need from place to place, the american dollars i had on me were completely unusable.
Peace though, to you and yours.
simon
I wasn't a big fan of being in an airport or on a plane for 30 hours. It was pretty gross. Worth it? of course. Worth mentioning grossness? Yes.
Things got better once i caught some Z's on the heavy flight south.
Imagine my shegrin when arriving in buenos aires on tuesday, in jeans and a longsleeve shirt. I was told that the local temperature was 37 degrees celcius. Oh my, i thought. I hope i've got a change of clothes.
The questions about a change of clothes came from our halifax to toronto leg. We were supposed to fly halifax-montreal-toronto, but montreal had a mean fog rolling through. Our montreal flight was two hours delayed.
We tried early on to catch a standby flight to toronto, but it didn't pan out. At this point our montreal flight was only one hour delayed, so it was still possible to make the connection.
We walked around the airport for an hour or two, and noticed on the board that our flight had been delayed an additional hour. Unsure of where this would leave us, we took our place in the Air Canada Customer Service Line-up.
I like listening to people chatter. Some people were in good moods, some people in bad moods. Everyone feeling their story was worth telling. Not unlike myself!
We were told that our flight to montreal would give us about 30 minutes to get onto our toronto flight, this was apparently somewhat non-perfect, but it was more time then we'd expected to have. In a stunningly well played move, i suggested that we wait standby on a flight direct to toronto which was to leave 15 minutes before our twice delayed flight to montreal.
We got on our standby flight, leaving us a guarentee that we'd arrive in muchos time for our buenos aires connection. Our luggage on the other hand, was still tagged to take the montreal flight. Landing in buenos aires, we didn't know what to expect.
Our bags were there. My bass was not. Memories of losing my one and only first guitar on a bus from nashville to toronto were kicking and screaming through my head, as i politely filled out a missing baggage form and exited the terminal.
2 days later, the airport called to say they had my bass and they'd be dropping it off that evening around 8:00. They showed up at 7:30.
We live in La Boca. It's kind of seedy, an older part of town to be sure. We found a great area by the waterfront yesterday (our best aimless walk to date) where there were tons of touristy crafty baubbles, one extraordinary art gallery, and a string of about four restaurants within 200m that had live music and salsa dancing out in front. The buildings are as colourful as National Geographic would have us believe. The people are friendly, and they all want our money. We've been eating super good, buying what seems to be fresh local produce and cooking our own grub in our happy little kitchenette. Getting some sun. Reading, writing, sketching, and playing cards. It's a quiet and easy life, thus far. I'm happy to report.
Love,
simon
"Take it easy, but take it"
I'm going away soon. Flying out of halifax international Monday, at 6:25pm. Bon's mom is driving her and me to halifax sometime around noon.
I'm planning on drawing a great deal. I'm planning on playing a lot of bass. I'm planning on understanding most spanish i hear.
Light plans, i think. Lots of room between.
Line them up. The good kids. Ripe. I promise we'll take from them as much as they take from us.
I promise to practice drawing.
xoPeaceLove,
simon