Pumpkins, Paint and Pollok

12 years ago last Friday I had my first transplant from my big brother. In some ways it seems like 2 years ago and in some 20 years ago. It's that surreal thing called time -something that by its very nature should be consistent and comparable, but in reality confuses the mind entirely with its ability to make one minute seem 300 times longer than the next. When I was about 10 years old, I wrote out my own little quote in calligraphy and gave it to my Grandma Gunn for her fridge - "Time is not a clock, but a camera which takes memories".

The past month was a flash. I enjoyed Halloween weekend in Vancouver and managed a few really good visits with Grandma Gunn. She still cannot say a word, but was far more responsive and make a huge effort to try to talk, which is significantly better than my last visit with her. I am thankful for those visits and hope for more days like that for her. In between visits, we managed to do a little pumpkin carving - Grady (armed and dangerous), Joelle (pumpkin perfectionsist), Dad (carved one that looked like him!) and I created some cool Jack O Lanterns for the front steps.

November started in NYC with Tasha, in a packed four-day tour of the city and Tasha's first visit. We took in everything we could in the short time - good food, wine, visiting my old neighbourhood, shopping, celebrity sightings (Tasha spotted Alec Baldwin on two separate occasions!?), theatre, sightseeing and the occasional rest period. Tasha immediately discovered the neverending opportunity of New York and understood why I loved it so much. We also realized that although we have been best friends for a long time and have taken several road trips together, we actually have never flown together. It was long overdue and likely not our last trip ;)

Not sure where the rest of the month has gone. Work continues to be busier, with my hours gradually increasing as planned, and my client work bringing me back into some familiar territory again. I continue to enjoy my condo and even managed to conquer my fear of hanging things on walls (seriously, needles are nothing - nails in walls make me hyperventilate) and put up some metal wall art. Visits with friends and family fill the non-work days and weekends quite fully. Of course, Jack and Davis continue to provide joy to me everytime I see them - they are growing up so fast now.

In the past few months, I have been sharing my observation that the human experience we are all having is really like the paintings of one of my favourite artists. Every day, through simple interaction with others, through interesting experiences we have because we made a choice to engage the day, we are left with splatters, drips and dabs of different coloured paint on our canvasses. Some people and experiences lay a thick, broad brush stroke and some just a tiny drop, but all are important to the final picture. By the time the masterpiece is complete, there are layers and textures and the details of all of the individual marks are often blurred, and you can't usually explain in words what is so compelling and wonderful about the final work. When Tasha and were in NYC we visited MOMA (the Museum of Modern Art) and walked to a room with a few Jackson Pollok pieces. I smiled and told her "see, that's what I mean - that's what I want to end up looking like!".

So thanks for the paint - continue to throw it and catch it for your own canvas.