I always do my laundry Sunday mornings. I am generally up early, between five and seven am and just following my shower I go downstairs to put in my weekly load of wash. Oh, and I am careful to get dressed before stepping out of my apartment. It is a shared laundry room, just three washers and three dryers for more than sixty tenants, but usually there is no one there early on a Sunday though this morning I did see there my Honduran neighbour. She is a mature woman, perhaps sixty or so, of African heritage. A woman full of joy and mirth who smiles with her entire being. We always chat in Spanish together, as we did this morning as I was loading and unloading the machine.
Breakfast is usually full strength coffee (Cuban dark roast, lately, organic fair trade), orange juice and a couple of slabs of homemade bread slathered with peanut butter and jam and cheese on the side and a banana. Sometimes I put the cheese on top of the bread. Kind of gross, I suppose, the combination of cheese, peanut butter and jam, but I love it. There is something very satisfying about this mix of food.
I am always listening to the CBC Sunday mornings with snippets about daily life in my city and throughout the province, music, often classical, and real conversations with ordinary people and how they get on with their daily lives. There is often a guest on talking about wordplay, another is a music historian, another is a horticulturist with tons of interesting information about local trees. Then comes the Sunday Edition and its interviews and programs that tell us not only how the world is going to hell but offering discussion and conversation about what we could do about it.
I took time today to read some more of the weekend Globe and Mail (I buy the weekend edition Saturday mornings), then finished one drawing and started another. Here is the hummingbird I just finished:
Isn't he pretty?
Here is the bird I just started today:
It is a Tyrian Metal Tail. I am painting it from the back view, which is a beautiful iridescent green.
I stopped at the bank machine. My wallet had gone through the washer and dryer this morning and was still on the wet side. Thanks to our polymer bills, none of the money was affected. As I feared my bank card did not function that well and I had to put it through the bank four or five times before it would be accepted. I will try to dry it more thoroughly, The good news? Canada Pension has deposited my first monthly payment. It isn't a lot but it is perfect for balancing my account and leaving enough left for me to eat for the next couple of weeks.
I arrived in the café an hour ahead of my Latino friend and got a lot of art work done, surrounded by some gorgeous paintings, since it also doubles as an art gallery. My friend arrived and we chatted an hour in Spanish, then in English. We have become close friends and we seem to be able to talk about almost anything without fear of judgment or rejection. I especially admire his frank honesty and his sincere desire to help. He is a rare gift among friends. I am not going to do anything else to identify him as he will probably be already plenty embarrassed when he reads this. Later he helped me move four paintings from my apartment to another building run by the society in charge of where I live. They are having an art show that I have opted to participate in. I am doing this more as a kindness to More Than a Roof Housing Society than out of any desire to promote or sell my art. I have been incredibly mad at them in times past and have used my art as a bargaining chip for venting my anger with them, simply by refusing to participate in any of their art events. I am treating this as an effort towards reconciliation, I suppose.
Later, my friend and I walked a couple of miles to Stanley Park where we enjoyed the incredibly gorgeous azalea gardens, now in full bloom. We walked back together downtown then went our separate ways. I stopped to buy milk and eggs and I have been at home for the last two and a half hours, doing art work, writing this blogpost, making and eating dinner. I will likely spend more time in art, reading, watch part of a documentary in Spanish and likely finish the evening quite early,
I don't know when I'll return to church. I am incredibly grateful for all the beauty that fills and surrounds my life and some of the wonderful people God has granted to reveal himself to me in.
I stopped at the bank machine. My wallet had gone through the washer and dryer this morning and was still on the wet side. Thanks to our polymer bills, none of the money was affected. As I feared my bank card did not function that well and I had to put it through the bank four or five times before it would be accepted. I will try to dry it more thoroughly, The good news? Canada Pension has deposited my first monthly payment. It isn't a lot but it is perfect for balancing my account and leaving enough left for me to eat for the next couple of weeks.
I arrived in the café an hour ahead of my Latino friend and got a lot of art work done, surrounded by some gorgeous paintings, since it also doubles as an art gallery. My friend arrived and we chatted an hour in Spanish, then in English. We have become close friends and we seem to be able to talk about almost anything without fear of judgment or rejection. I especially admire his frank honesty and his sincere desire to help. He is a rare gift among friends. I am not going to do anything else to identify him as he will probably be already plenty embarrassed when he reads this. Later he helped me move four paintings from my apartment to another building run by the society in charge of where I live. They are having an art show that I have opted to participate in. I am doing this more as a kindness to More Than a Roof Housing Society than out of any desire to promote or sell my art. I have been incredibly mad at them in times past and have used my art as a bargaining chip for venting my anger with them, simply by refusing to participate in any of their art events. I am treating this as an effort towards reconciliation, I suppose.
Later, my friend and I walked a couple of miles to Stanley Park where we enjoyed the incredibly gorgeous azalea gardens, now in full bloom. We walked back together downtown then went our separate ways. I stopped to buy milk and eggs and I have been at home for the last two and a half hours, doing art work, writing this blogpost, making and eating dinner. I will likely spend more time in art, reading, watch part of a documentary in Spanish and likely finish the evening quite early,
I don't know when I'll return to church. I am incredibly grateful for all the beauty that fills and surrounds my life and some of the wonderful people God has granted to reveal himself to me in.
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