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Chrystyna Bykowa
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Other
- Hits: 221
One of the local artists on display on the gallery opening:
Link: https://www.bykowa.com/
Funny, I passed her on the way out of the gallery, excusing myself that I didn't need to hear the artists spiels; she lives in the building and I didn't know she was an artist or showing or I might have stayed.
Amusing, in that when I see her on the street, or run into her in the common areas of the building she always looks very serious, at odds with what she's creating..."Book by it's cover" and all that....
Gallery Opening
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Other
- Hits: 158
More there to support the owner than anything else, and maybe hob-nob a bit with the hoity-toity of Nelson.
It takes 5 minutes to survey the exhibition, trees, landscapes, a few abstractions, competent but not good, grab a few hors d'oeuvres, a mocktail, chat briefly with an attractive woman approaching my age, she asks my favourite of the works and I'm at a loss, hopefully she's not one of the artists and I realize I can't possibly hold in my opinions too much longer and bail.
The crowd, mostly in their late 60's to 80's, well attended with about 30 or so people, bloody hell, and the artists are going to speak on their work that requires absolutely no explaining or interpretation - none at all, more excusing than anything, and I'm out...
I was glad of the no wingman, had I been dragged to sit through their speaking - unless their eloquence lay in words (clearly not form or colour), had I had to sit through that I might have topped myself...
The Beetle - Richard Marsh
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Books
- Hits: 184
A curious late Victorian read that for a long time was more popular than Dracula.
Abandoning the forward, which threatened to wring any joy I might get from the book itself with analysis of events I had yet to read. An afterword would be suitable, but these forwards that presume you read the book (!!) and seek to destroy it with their socio-political analysis, spoilers on plot points, etc, etc. Highly annoying.
Anyways, back to the book - a homeless man breaks into a house, and encounters a sinister and quite possibly supernatural force that has made it's way to London for unholy vengeance upon a certain esteemed politician.
A dark secret slowly unfolding, the mystery slowly is teased out through the 5 main narrators, melodramatic, themes of electricity and science driving out the Old Gods of Infinite Terror, of Xenophobia and the fear of the conquered other, of occult and ancient cults that kidnap English Christian Maidens, subject them to orgies of unimaginable cruelty before burning them alive as a sacrifice to ISIS, ...
Well, too much more and you won't want to read it. An interesting and curious read, which if you're at all inclined you can do so here:
LINK: The Beetle - Richard Marsh VIA PROJECT GUTENBERG
Cali, OD's, Summer's Here
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 310
A few days ago, an OD in front of Chahko Miko Mall. He/She didn't survive. No word on who it is, they seldom get obituaries, merely another one gone, an unnamed statistic for the papers, and you look at the homeless, for the usual faces, there are so many that have migrated here in the last couple of months, and you wonder who it was...
It should be mandatory that they get the same dignity we accord our own relations, that the newspaper publish a photo and obituary, to the best of their ability. A statistic has no face, but it is made up of hundreds and now thousands...
***
Then Cali, yesterday. On Facebook, when I finish work, there's a flurry of posts, a family looking for their daughter, left Procter to drive into Nelson for an appointment, never arrived. Pictures, I know here, 17? 18? years old? We worked together about 3 years ago. That restaurant was a curse. Pictures of her with her "N" sticker and her car. I taught her all about pedophiles and warned her away from every one of my colleagues. She took it in good humour.
The posts, people are volunteering to look for her, walking the highway where they think she went missing.
It ends badly, I'm not sure, but reading between the lines she crossed the highway and hit the water.
The posts, back and forth, people, the community, out looking for her, she was lovely and never an unkind word could be said about her. That's a rare thing. I share the post with the folks I knew that worked with her.
Chris, he was a first responder when they found the car. It's what you sign up for, first responder, volunteer firefighter, but I don't think anything prepares you for that, and he has trauma of his own.
So the days become tinted with sadness, and the parents are grieving a beautiful daughter, and so many are speechless, read the comments, the condolences, she was a bright light, visited me in the sushi restaurant, ran into her in the library, she'd always stop and talk, have a laugh, she'd honk and wave if she passed you - and now ??
Small town living. In the city, people disappear and you forget them, so many people, so many new people, new faces, and those who've slouched off to underground burrows are unremarked.
Down Baker tonight to find my medication, the streets, patios, bars, they're full. It's summer, life goes on as usual, but -
Well, you know.
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