where the great plains began

I was sifting through my video camera the other night and completely forgot about this video.
It was originally shot for Dan, as we both share a love for the song, and for The Tragically Hip.
So, as I crossed the hundredth meridian over a year ago, this video was filmed.
Excuse the horrible singing, but if you knew how Gord Downie sang live, you'd understand.

click, click, boom

I'm tired. 

Do you ever get that sensation where you know your body needs food but you're just not hungry, or when you know you need to sleep but you just can't? That's good stuff. 

It's been, and will continue to be, a very busy few weeks. Working towards completing works for three separate shows, all within two months of each other, and I've been having trouble connecting works together. I've painted over the same canvas three times already and plan to do so again tomorrow morning. There's a certain click that happens when I begin a new painting and I can usually sense what the finished product will look like by the time of completion. I'll toss and turn every night and wake up early just to work on it, and to see what the final product looks like. Lately this hasn't been happening. My mind has been in other places and I become really unmotivated when I enter the studio to see that my oil brushes have dried over. I really detest cleaning brushes sometimes. This is mostly due to the fact that I don't enjoy the smell of Taltine, and linseed oil can really muck-up your kitchen sink. Needless to say, I'll get it all done.

It is now nearing 3am and all I can seem to focus on is watching GG Allin interviews, which is not necessarily the stuff anyone should be watching before bed. 

Last nights show at The Supermarket went really well. I smacked my hand right near the beginning of the set and it didn't stop bleeding for about twenty minutes. The really sad thing is that I was playing another bands drum kit and I had to wipe the blood off in between tracks.

Tonight we recorded in London with the gentlemen from the Ontario Institute of Audio Recording Technology. That went very well, but I felt that my own bed would be a nice way to cap off the day. We got some Timmies and I drove the boys home to Toronto in our new van. The portable radio scratched and fuzzed between stations the entire way and we heard the same Kings of Leon song three times going in one direction. 

I've been really craving a good, concise, blogathon lately. One where I can rant passionately about something that's been on my mind, except I just haven't really allowed myself the time to do that. Hopefully this weekend. 

Oh, and St. Paddy's was good. I was in bed by twelve and still have splinters embedded in my left hand from climbing a ten foot wooden fence into somebody's backyard. 

similarryties

Today I realized that the apples truly don't fall far from the trees. 

My dad and I make this pilgrimage to Oakville every few months to pick up oversized canvas from the gigantic DeSerres outlet store. I'm pretty sure the prices are the same as the one here downtown, but it's kind of fun to make the journey and we get a chance to catch up. 

So today we made that same trip. It went pretty much exactly the same as it usually does: we drove through shit weather, talked about bad drivers/the economy/work/family/the weather/sports (I pretend and nod a lot at that), we drank tim hortons, got off at the wrong exits and laughed at each others stank farts. It was business as usual. 

Once we got back to my studio, we cracked down on some manly shit. To be more specific, we drilled holes in the walls and used ladders. At around this point, I quickly became aware of how similar my dad and I really are. Once my dad uttered "Hey And, you got anything I can piss into?", I laughed and handed him my usual piss bucket and left him to do his business. 

The funny thing about that instance is that every time I've ever mentioned to someone that I have a piss bucket, they cringe and make a stupid face. My dad? We both understand that taking a piss is simply taking a piss, and there's nothing around it. Who cares that there's a jug of warm piss in the room? I just dump it into the drain outside my door. Be a man and get dirty for once you over-sanitized, kleenex-havin' baby! 

The next similarity came when he noticed my wagon wheel. Yes, I have a single authentic wagon wheel downstairs which I swiped from a leather ranch that had gone out of business. It was a hasslehoff to carry home, but I knew I'd use it for something eventually. He replied,

" Aw, sweet wagon wheel! You could turn that into a coffee table!", and that was my exact intention on having it. Because, the fact is, my dad would have grabbed that wheel off the street even faster than I did. We just both have an eye for useful junk. 

We continued to drill more holes (which will be used for hanging wet canvas instead of leaning them against the wall), crack jokes, and jam out to The Temptations. I explained the motion sensor problems I have and he told me of a friend who could remedy that problem. Excuse me? Where has this person been for the past three years while I've been doing stupid fucking jumping jacks all afternoon to keep the lights on? Needless to say, this person is coming over one day to hook me up, figuratively speaking. 

And to top off this story, he gave me a brand new step ladder! I am officially a man now, because I have my own ladder. All I need now is a truck, some more plaid, a baby, and over $50 in Canadian Tire money and I'm in the club. 

that was nice, wasn't it?

I liked Vancouver.

I had a discussion with Kamal today about Vancouver. We both agreed that - in a city of such rich, high-cost of living, it's hard to understand why the people appear so calm and relaxed all the time. Personally, I thought Vancouver was very similar to Toronto, only if you wrapped Toronto around a very large lake and plopped some mountains on the horizon. Ey'gad!

This is Bryan. Bryan is a good friend of mine. One of those friends that you've known long enough to make fun of each others past haircuts, girlfriends, clothes, grades, and decisions. I stayed at his condo in Vancouver for a few days and, needless to say, the guy is one of the better hosts I've had the pleasure of knowing.

Despite the outrageous $1.52/L gas prices, Bry drove us around town for a couple hours, making note of some of the best areas, and worst, that Vancouver has to offer. Had I known that the tour would have been that good, I would have payed upfront, cash. Bryan, if you read this, I am now telling you the forecast of your future: VanTourism. Your slogan can be,

"Hop on the fucking sled pawtna! Indigo's in the back!"

Yes, I drank Pilsner. For those of you who've never seen Fubar, watch and learn.

Stanley Park ruled. I snapped this, again, while doing about 60. Out the window, out of focus, click.

I can't remember really what was going on during this photo. I look like I'm being sucked backwards in time, Bryan looks like he's about to commit the worst sucker-punch ever. Bike looks like a rat child.

I asked Bike to do his best Japanese impression. Seeing as he used to live there, I trust his depiction.

Lake Louise, just like I remember it. I really wanted to swim in that water.

After clicking off a few photos of the scenery, my attention (deficit) was drawn towards picture-takers. There's an incredible moment to be seen when witnessing a person having their picture taken. Every person who's had their photograph taken knows this. There is something about a shiny, reflective lens that makes people turn from a reality to a representation of themselves.
Even in this photo below, that girl is thinking to herself,

" Oh my god, I'm getting my photo taken. I'd better make it a good one because I drove a thousand fucking miles just to get some evidence that I was here, so I'd better look good. What pose should I go for? Hip lean? Arms in the air? Peace sign? Smile? No smile? Maybe a smile without teeth? I didn't brush this morning. How are you supposed to brush your teeth out here anyway? Fuck, I hate camping."
Click.

I have to admit to enjoying the Trans Canada highway a little too much. Not all for its beauty, but just for the unfathomable amount of work it must have taken. Try to imagine how much work it takes to make a flat highway for a thousand miles. Then, try to imagine constructing that same highway, only it now stretches across the Rockies. That's the kind of hard work that you have to respect. I mean, LOOK AT THAT.

If I had known that there are (seemingly) only two Starbucks between here and Vancouver, I wouldn't have come at all. That's not true, but holy hell was it frustrating. For a guy who has trouble starting his day without a long americano, it was torture. I'll be sure to write Howard a bit later today about that. Here, I am pictured, fully satisfied.

Calgary made me laugh. It was a really pretty, clean, and diverse city. Yet it was full of cowboys, and it seemed like this style was only cool in Calgary, because I didn't see any of that shit anywhere else along the way. Thank the lord I didn't buy any Stampede gear when I was there.

Am I floating in this picture? There's a weird shadow near my feet that gives off this hovering look.

1920 - part 1

Tarkins back.

What started as just an idea on paper and a desire to hit the road, turned into one of the summers biggest box-office excursions. I have recently returned from a 14 day journey across two countries, in an attempt to relax and do some research.

I look back on some wonderful memories, some of which I will go into further detail, right, about, now.

Ontario is a funny place. In fact, it's actually quite beautiful.

There's a heck of a lot more to it than some of the ugliest "cities" in the country. Did you know there are bears in this province, as well as moose? I didn't either, because only a fool would go around the Great Lakes, rather than under them. It took us over two days just to get out of the province, but I'd say it was worth it. I'd rather see some really defining Canadian landscape over advertisements for Michigan's own food chain, The Cracker Barrel. Although, it is that once you've seen ten kilometers of the shield, you've seen it all, and I was okay with that because I was looking at the sky most of the time.

I introduced TraBK to a theory of mine early on during the trip while driving, and that theory is that all bugs are girls, so don't crush them. This statement alone provided some of the funniest moments on the trip, mainly because we'd impersonate mosquito's as delicate females. Rathing than crushing them, we would provide a humorous narrative while insects were looking for a way out of the car. After laughing at eachothers depictions of dancing female bugs, we'd open a window and let her out. Think about it next time you feel like swatting that fly in your room: it's just a cute young lady looking for a way out.

Some sights, like the one pictured above, were hilariously identical to some of my work. Then and there, the entire purpose of the trip was fulfilled, and it had only been one day since leaving. Even TraBK was laughing at the similarities.
I wish I could bottle up that much inspiration and keep it on my shelves when I need it, because there was more than enough during times like that. A large goal I set out for myself was to not capture certain moments on film, but to place them into my head and let my imagination distort them in a way no camera ever could.

don't believe the rumors, canada is huge

Hello, hello, hello.
After nearly 4,000 kilometers of driving, I now sit in a sweaty apartment in downtown Vancouver. It has been a long, long, journey. A lot of driving, a lot of sites, and a lot of fun.
We basically started in Toronto and made our way above the Great Lakes. We took the Chee-Chee-Munch ferry to Manitoulin Island and continued towards Sault St. Marie. After a night of camping in Massey, we rose at 6am to hit the road. That day, we drove until 4:30 in the morning on one of the most dangerous highways in Canada. We literally had to drive directly behind a transport truck to avoid hitting a moose or deer, almost like a quarterback and a blocker in football. I know I don't drive the highway all that often, but I'm pretty sure that is something no driver should ever have to do.
We continued on to Manitoba. We stopped in Winnipeg for the afternoon. The two of us took a tour at the Royal Canadian Mint (where a brand new Talkin Schmidt was filmed), and visited some art galleries, stretched our legs, and bought some black stand up albums for the ride. Comedic cd's are something that I now consider to be a road trip necessity. Highly recommended, and the dirtier the better.
Then came time to rest for the night. We stopped in a little town called Brandon, Manitoba and booked a hotel. We barbecued in the parking lot and drank beer. There was also an incredible storm that night, which caused us to run around in farmers fields at top speeds, laughing and photographing the Prussian-blue clouds. I'll post some photos of that night at a later date. Brandon really knows how to party.
Then came the prairies. Awesome! The only disappointing thing about Saskatchewan is that you can drive across it in one day, and we did. We stopped numerous times to film, sketch, and absorb the ultimate flatness of the farmland. After only the third day, I uploaded my laptop (also known as the self-degrading camping device) with over 350 photos documenting clouds, ditches, fields, sunlight, gulches, crops, reflections, lakes, and rivers.
Later, we drove into Alberta, to the mountains! For those of you who haven't driven across Canada, the border of Alberta is lined with the Rockies, which looks strangley like a group of bullies trying to keep you out of Banff. We made our way to Banff, where Mike bought a classic new t-shirt, and I bought one with a wolf on it. We stayed at a friends place for the night and, again, got up early to hit the road to Vancouver.
So, there you have it. Sorry about the lack of photos in this post. I guarentee a motherload when it is time to come home. It's funny, really; this is easily the most technically-advanced road excursion I've ever witnessed: one b/w film camera, one digital slr, one ipod, one laptop, one digital video camera, one high-definition video camera, three tripods, one cellphone, and my trusty generator. Let's just say that no matter where we stop, something is being charged. I'll try to update again once we hit the states. Stick around! Andicles.