celebration of light: vancouver, july 29, 2006

it was gray today.

i didn't expect dallas to awake with me at 9am, since he'd got in around 4am. but he did and after some sleepy bumbling about, we walked to delaney's (another coffee house) on denman street, procured hot beverages and muffins, and took them to english bay. we spent the next hour or so continuing the conversation we've been having, on and off, for the last several years, most recently the night before, the conversation about consciousness. it's one of those conversations i'm not entirely convinced occurs entirely out loud; we seem deeply immersed in each other's inner vocabulary. we've added discussion about applied kinesiology, alternative healing, despair, our respective vissions of our futures, our purposes, language and self consciousness (as distinct from simple conscisousness). i guess all of those aren't quite new threads of discourse, but we continue to discover new weaves, new patterns in which to lay them out for better appreciation.

the discussion continued over a late breakfast at theresa's, a plain but popular denman street eatery, with comforting western food cooked and served by charming asian staff. (i'm stupified by the proliferation of sushi joints in the west end, btw.)

a month or so ago, dallas got me excited about the "raven travelling" exhibit visiting the vancouver art gallery, particularly since the chilkat blanket that had reached out to dallas from the pages of one of his textbooks was included in the exhibit. dallas's fascination with the technique, mysterious even to seasoned weavers, was completely infectious. equally fascinating was the mystery of some of the symbols and motifs worked into the blanket, which are beyond the understanding not only of art historians, but of the haida people themselves. mike would love the exhibit, which includes several representations of the clamshell creation myth.

afterward, in the gallery shop, dallas was pleased to be able to point to some of the merchandise produce by his employer, native northwest. however, we were both horrified by a t-shirt, not produced by native northwest and made in mexico, bearing a white aboriginal design on a green camouflage background.

we had arranged to view the fireworks on the second night of the "celebration of light", from the 21st floor apartment of dallas's friend, richard, who is visiting his home in london, england. his suite commands what is likely one of the finest views of english bay, and is immediately opposite the barge from which the pyrotechnics are launched. we were joined by an old friend from edmonton, murray billett, and his friend, tony. among other things, murray is now an edmonton city police commissioner. he is an exuberant, passionate, human rights activist and a beautiful human being. dallas and i have been honoured to know him since the early 1990s. murray served with me on the board of the AIDS network of edmonton (now HIV edmonton). the three of us were members of the gay men's outreach committee (GMOC), a harm reduction group that distributed condoms and safer sex information. we had fabulous t-shirts.

china delivered what i think may be the most astonishing fireworks display i've ever experienced, though perhaps that had something to do with the wine, the view and the company. i wonder about the almost universal, childlike joy in fireworks. do they trigger memories of the big bang, or whatever original experience launched us into the present moment? i drank too much wine and marvelled both at the light display and the congregation of 250 000+ crowd assembled on the sands of english bay to gawp like children. light and magic were everywhere (as are the cliches in this post).

the day embraced everything and everyone i love about this city.

i'm waiting for help from james, in sydney, with formatting this blog with photos. in the meantime, a little collection from today can be found here.

vancouver, british columbia, canada - july 28, 2006

because i like to be clever, the first, handwritten entry in my little black book (with the fabulously garish, thigh-high red boot on the cover....thank you danae) is entitled "day 1 july 27, 2006". i suppose it's entirely appropriate that, in the full spirit of this journey, i have had to get out of my own way to write this entry on day 2.

nevertheless, i was concerned that starting things off with "day 1" would be too commonplace. but then i considered that the first topic about which it occurred to me to write--and in no less auspicious a place as a calgary airport toilet--was the natural history of disgust. what looked like a smattering of scabrous blobs of dried mucous littering the wall around the toilet paper dispenser generated considerable curiousity about the origin of the reaction we call disgust. more than the (almost) overwhelming stress of trip preparation (who knew that condensing a western life for a year's travel would be so complicated), my disgust in that lavatory moment stands out as the most potent sign of...well, of something. i'll know what it's pointing to when i feel the point. i'm good at feeling pointy things.

so in my roundabout way, i'm less pointedly remarking on the anticlimax of my departure from calgary and my arrival in vancouver yesterday. i thought i would feel more, or at least feel differently, but the slippage between my anticipated and actual experience has been my only consistent experience so far. perhaps my exhaustion eclipsed the emotional content of the process of leaving. and in coming first to the very familiar vancouver, i don't yet have a sense of the enormity of this undertaking that, as hard as i have tried to do, i have been unable to characterize as foolish, or even foolhardy.

dallas didn't answer the phone when i called from the airport and later confirmed my suspicion that he'd got my arrival date mixed up. he thought it was sometime today. but back at the airport, finishing my voice message to him, i thought i was already being tested: allan, you've just arrived in a large city and require lodging. what steps do you take? i think i had the situation sorted out in my head when dallas called back. we ate shawarma platters on the grass ringing english bay. i rarely tire of his stories and his chatter. he's so gifted, so complex. i wish i were always able to give him my full attention. since he has been assimilating buddhist and hindu perspectives far longer than i have, i've felt odd about being able to visit india before him. we may go to a BBQ tonight with his classmates from the advanced textile arts program at capilano college. he's also asked me to go to wreck beach, sometime this weekend, though my body image may require some fortification to enable that kind of outing. (for those of you who don't know, dallas has been my friend since 1989 in edmonton. he was my first sister and my only gurilla.)

with dallas at work, i had today to myself, but the west end of vancouver, one of the gayest places i've been too (oxford street in sydney is right up there and i'll be there very soon...stay tuned) has always been a challenge for me. i think it stems from early rejection experiences when i was coming out in edmonton. whatever. i meandered east up nelson street, which is quiet and lush, before dodging over to davie street/village to forage for coffee and a muffin in one of my favourite coffeehouses, melriches. because the day was cool and gray, i was able to find just the right bench at the bay to watch gulls, pigeons, people and herons. oh, and to sit with my colossal self-consciousness. it's so vivid. it will be a lively companion on this journey, i'm sure. :o)

i was able to grab my friend, rod, for lunch. he's leaving on a similar journey on september 16, which will take him first to japan, then indonesia and, if he can work it, cambodia (via malaysia) and thailand. he arrives in kathmandu on november 30. i'm going to meet him at the airport and hang out for a couple of days before he heads off to everest base camp. he arrives in india 11 days after i do. we aim to cross paths for ready-made chai somewhere.

i've been trying to do nothing all day and have not succeeded. hence, this lengthy post about very little. i'm waiting for dallas to return home. maybe i'll do the dishes. maybe not. cool.

guest house

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture, still,
treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

- Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)
(trans. Coleman Barks)