the adaptation

So after my rave of the Denis Johnson book Jesus' Son (I haven't returned the book yet to the library, but instead continue to steal away a few moments here and there to re-read various passages; I don't want it to leave the apartment just yet), I naturally wanted to see the film. While obviously it isn't as near the genius of the book, it's pretty damn good! The director, Alison Maclean (a Canadian!) has created something not only faithful to the source material - not always an easy feat (cue up the pretty dreadful Witches of Eastwick as Exhibit A) - particularly with respect to the book's episodic nature, it even managed to bring something fresh: she truly captured F.H.'s inherent innocence and goofiness. Of course I was disappointed that my favourite story, The Other Man, didn't make the cinematic cut, and the film drifts a mite about halfway through, but these seem like minor quibbles. Oh, and an additional treat: to have Denis Johnson himself in the film! And not just some throwaway cameo, but playing Terrance Weber, the guy with the knife in his eye! Sweet.

In other news, it's felt like a long week, largely because I had a deadline for a freelance piece due today. Naturally I should have written the damn thing during the holidays - especially with the main interview fresh in my head (I don't tape record my interviews, but rely on my notes and memory) - but, as usual, I left it to the 11th hour. I'd like to understand why I still procrastinate on the majority of my journalism work. Or on most of my writing assignments (even my journal, and this blog). Maybe I like the deadline pressures. I probably should have gone into writing for radio, with its daily deadlines.

I'm also planning on participating in Canada Reads 2010: Independently. (I will most likely be a silent observer...) My reasoning is twofold. I figure it's a good opportunity to read some CanLit that I missed (and that are not necessarily on the "grid') but it also gives me a chance to buy these books at my local book retailer(s) (to support them and the publishers/authors of the books). Of course I've already cheated: I saw Carrie Snyder's Hair Hat at the Spadina branch of the TPL, so I grabbed it. (Sorry Carrie!) So, that'll be the first one up for me.

writing and moods

So it's been a while since I posted. I haven't been overly busy - I had a couple of tight deadlines to meet at work, for sure, but since I hardly ever write when at work, I can't use that as an excuse - but I haven't had the requisite energy to put together a decent blog post during the evening hours. I also chalk it up to my mood: the frequency of my posts tends to go up when I'm in a more depressed state of mind, or at least when I'm going through some extreme emotions. My life right now, however, is rather dull. In a good way, thankfully. No high drama, no histrionics, but more tranquil satisfaction. It's a nice headspace that seems to suit me, at least for the time being.

It hasn't always been like that. In fact, I've just spent the better part of 45 minutes poking through my external hard drive and re-reading some blog writing from my past. (I was in search of my favourite post that I wanted to pass on to a friend of mine who never read the blog.) For those that don't know, I've had about four different blogs over the years, with my original 2005 Procrastination Nation blog standing as perhaps my finest of all. I certainly had more energy back then for writing, but that's directly related to my emotional state at the time: I was going through a serious break-up, and then re-entering the dating world. Is it any wonder I had a lot on my mind to share? (I was also probably more into sharing back then. I've become more gun shy about revealing too much of me on the web.)

In some ways I miss having that energy and will to write and share my life - I'm proud to say it was a popular site - although I don't necessarily miss the turmoil that accompanied it. I'm better off in 2009 than I was in 2005. I'm happier, and more importantly I'm more content. Still, it's nice to revisit some of those old posts. For those that are interested, this is the kind of stuff I was writing:

At work the other day, I was reminded of a scene from Carol Shields’ The Stone Diaries. I don’t actually remember much about the book – I think I enjoyed it, but it doesn’t resonate. (Her last novel, Unless, left a greater impact, probably because a big chunk of it took place in Toronto.) But what I do remember is the two pages or so where the narrator, Daisy, lists all the things that she’s never done in her life. (I don’t have the book in the house to list them all, but I do remember one of the things she listed was oral sex.) From what I recall, she doesn’t register judgement on those things she’s missed out on, but simply notes them impassionately.

I’m in the mood to undertake a similar exercise. I’ll make two lists: the things that I’ve done that might be somewhat out of the ordinary (or at least memorable for me), and those that I’ve not done or accomplished. In some cases, I’ll provide a small explanation.

Things that I’ve done:

Held an Oscar; won three tennis tournaments; given multiple orgasms (or so I was told…); broken both my wrists (the right one one year, the left one the next); torn my rotator cuff in a bike accident; won a broadcast award in university; published approximately 400 articles (many of questionable quality); flown over the date line; paid for porn in a Japanese hotel; cheated on a partner (only once, and to my shame); spent New Year’s Eve alone; spent my birthday alone (and worried that I’ll be doing that this year); “made out” with a girl when I was 8 years old; travelled to almost every major American city; flown first class; finished in the top ten in scoring one year in hockey (when I was 10; I finished eighth); assisted on a championship-winning goal; thrown up from too much booze on someone else’s carpet; shot, processed and developed my own black and white photos; been hit in the balls with a tennis ball while playing goal in a street hockey game; hit someone in the balls with a slap shot in a street hockey game; cried at the end of the film Fields of Dream (it’s the whole “father-son” thing); had three one-night stands.

Things I haven't done:

Gone bungee jumping or sky diving; had a threesome; read Moby Dick, War and Peace or Ulysses; gone skinny dipping; made a woman pregnant (at least as far as I know); had anal sex; travelled to India, New Zealand or Argentina (three places I’d like to visit); used any drug harder than hash; seen a dead person at an open-casket funeral.

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Re-reading this, I wonder if this was a draft. After all, the list of things I haven't done seems awfully small! More important, I can actually cross three things off the list and add them to things I've accomplished (travelling to Argentina is one; I'll allow others to speculate on the other two). Also, maybe it's time to get back to that type of confessional writing. Of course it won't be that scandalous: after all, nobody's here reading!

a return

Despite my inactivity - a combination of factors, but mostly just plain ol' apathy/laziness and lack of motivation - I am still here. Sort of. Barely. Just about. Well, you get the picture. It's not that this hasn't been a particularly interesting time for me either. I'm bursting with mental acuity and philosophical musings, but they've largely been confined to the swirl in my head. (I've engaged in some writing, but nothing I feel is appropriate for public consumption. Although, let's be serious here, it's not like I had much of a public to begin with! And those that were with me a couple of months must surely have left the building.) Which is not good - I forget that it's healthy for me to get these thoughts down, to make sense of them. It doesn't necessarily make me more happy, but more content.

Some of the swirls include:

- a milestone birthday (fast approaching)
- better looks (largely the result of straightened teeth!)
- the next half of my life (at least I hope it's only half over)
- crushes and infatuations (both real and imagined/virtual)
- a genetic disposition toward melancholy

All of which to be examined, in due course. Right now, there's Anna Karenina to continue. Only about 400 pages to go...

Happy Earth Day

Spent the hour between 8:30 and 9:30 in thought, with a journal by my side, writing three poems, various ramblings, and a postcard. And watched the cat nearly set her fur on fire with the candle. (What's that smell? Ah yes, singed cat fur.)

The early hour

I love the calm and quiet of the early-morning hours, so I'm never too frustrated when I awake early. (Unless, of course, I have a late night and then have to drag my ass to work.) Usually if I'm up early and the weather is co-operating, I'll put on the running togs and head out for 40 minutes. But because I seemed to have done a number on my right leg when I wiped out yesterday morning on the slippery sidewalk, I decided to jot down a few words before getting out of bed.

(Quick aside: listening to an interview and performance by Laila Biali, a jazz singer and pianist now living in New York City. Funny, I used to see her often playing at the Pilot, where she was the basically the house pianist. Nice to see that she's making a serious go as a professional musician.)

In fact, for a period of time a few years ago, I was trying to get up a little early every morning to write what I called the "morning papers." It was an idea expressed in the book The Artist's Way. Not that I had any pretensions or grand illusions that I was an "artist," but I was hoping it would at least open my mind every morning, get the creative juices flowing before sitting down to the work that paid the rent. And at least that work - I was a freelance writer - had a creative element to it, although toward the end I was doing crap (writing marketing brochures and the like) that felt like the most uncreative work there was. (I can't tell you how many boring business-y type guys I had to chat with on a daily basis. Marketing and sales people, yuck.) The morning papers I would write - very free-flowing, sometimes totally non-sensical stuff - was my one daily lifeline to creativity.

I still get the occasional jones to get back to writing in the morning, although I find I need to use the computer now rather than write longhand. So maybe that's something I'll be sharing on here in the near future. Watch this space.