tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79861389678962594812012-03-02T15:32:13.663-08:00"We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time." ~ T.S. Eliot's "Four Quartets: Little Gidding"kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.comBlogger2151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-53223512840777999052012-02-05T23:59:00.000-08:002012-02-07T19:29:42.927-08:00

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-87405873922541993432012-02-05T22:40:00.000-08:002012-02-07T08:52:41.314-08:00

Thank you for making Twenty. I loved it, truly, madly, and deeply. From my reality as a resident alien mother of three, you seamlessly transported me back... to sun-warmed rugby fields where I'd stretch out with earphones on plush grass during amber autumn lunch hours, slowly savouring the words of Wordsworth, Forster, and Buber; to the basement of my dear old friend, Schildkroete Meister, where

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-57786741909445187082012-02-05T21:10:00.000-08:002012-02-06T01:43:50.692-08:00

"They swarmed into Dunkirk and onto the beaches ~ lost, confused, and all too often, leaderless... [Soldiers] threw away their arms and aimlessly wandered about the beach. Others played games and swam. Others got drunk. Others prayed and sang hymns... [O]ne man, with studied indifference, stripped to his shorts and sunbathed among the rocks..."~ Walter Lord, "The Miracle of Dunkirk" Stayed up

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-51918134971280207152012-01-27T03:52:00.000-08:002012-02-01T14:14:35.048-08:00

Yesterday bore immensely satisfying testament that my "Ah, Fuck-It" Manifesto indeed suits me right down to the nipply winter ground. Lately narcoleptic beyond measure for reasons unknown ~ though I do unhesitatingly finger an unwelcome revisitation by Count Anemia as a likely culprit ~ I intended only to do the one class for which I'd registered myself earlier in the week, to be followed by a

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-25509767657518068232012-01-17T05:09:00.001-08:002012-02-22T19:56:18.707-08:00

A wee playlist of favourites new and old to accompany me in my burning of the midnight oil. It seems the longer I spend working on pictures, the more stressed I become with how beautiful, warm, and intrinsically epic I hope to be able to distill them. Fear of failure is stalling my progress; I am choking myself with the illogical impasse of unfair expectations counterbalanced with considerable

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-8700552800230408742012-01-05T19:10:00.000-08:002012-01-09T12:24:08.882-08:00

Once in a while, I think it might actually be quite nice to be able to shut off my brain so I don't keep getting myself into trouble.But then again, what fun would that be?Far too early this chill obsidian morn, my fetching Fetish Ninja and I had our weekly coffee'n'catch up date, long-overdue as we'd missed a few because of holidays.There was much to be shared.Amongst them was a sweet, neophyte

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-73037556794861766772012-01-01T22:27:00.000-08:002012-01-02T02:00:15.189-08:00

"Either you do, or you don't." ~ Lindsey BuckinghamBright and early this brilliant morning, I baptized in frigid molten salt my broken body and mindfully pronounced myself a year of resolute "Ah, Fuckit"-ism and hope of second-guessing myself far less. Old hurts and consuming anxieties were shocked away in the rude plunge of a Pacific ice bath, leaving a refreshed spirit to embrace 2012 with

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-85525878001766569122011-12-29T17:24:00.000-08:002012-01-13T16:00:13.839-08:00

For as heinous is any form of senseless combat, especially that which wreaks devastating ruin upon individuals, families, communities, and nations (is there any other kind?), I must confess to a massive, rotten affinity for the style aesthetic of various eras of wartime garb. Perhaps it may find some fractional root in the romanticism of struggle forced upon people through extremes of emotion

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-5259898418165243082011-12-29T14:14:00.000-08:002011-12-31T19:59:20.872-08:00

"The knowledge that the atoms that comprise life on earth ~ the atoms that make up the human body ~ are traceable to the crucibles that cooked light elements into heavy elements in their core under extreme temperatures and pressures... these stars ~ the high mass ones among them ~ went unstable in their later years. They collapsed and then exploded, scattering their enriched guts across the

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-91512682450896103092011-12-26T18:25:00.000-08:002012-01-06T17:31:50.005-08:00

Or, at least according the photographer, 95% so.And this is the chosen one. Symbolic of not only a breath-held leap into the precipice of naked fear and acceptance, it is also emblematic of the psyche: revealing yet hidden, vulnerable but empowered, tough whilst soft, introverted with openness, ready despite repose, solitary though contributing. I am a sliver of the whole, a piece of the puzzle,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-79175147062831615612011-12-14T06:47:00.000-08:002012-01-29T02:25:36.236-08:00

To the succour of a fighting young jewel converged 48 luminous souls collectively bearing much-appreciated armaments of joyful laughter, delectable comestibles, and $1506... and counting.Her exhausted mother ~ whom I'd met once before in a whisper of an encounter a few months ago ~ came directly from her side at the hospital, sporting her tiny red-flowered hairpin as a talisman and bringing loved

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-80782607142175381412011-12-14T03:02:00.000-08:002011-12-15T14:42:00.539-08:00

And just when you didn't think you could possibly love a song any more, you find this.

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-33759344237555341832011-11-28T22:28:00.000-08:002012-01-29T02:25:36.238-08:00

The butterflies.Oh, the butterflies.(*insert mute gag here*)After another anxiety-filled sleepless night that mated cruelly with a gruelling class this morning, I was left formless and spineless as a sliver of a shadow. I rarely watch the clock during class, but today, my glazed eyes hung onto its face with the haunted heaviness of the desperately fatigued.My instructor was not amused.

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-88495693158125044712011-11-17T05:15:00.000-08:002011-11-22T17:35:55.453-08:00

Days fresh out of high school one particularly glowing summer, I blasted out of Vancouver airspace to participate in a summer language bursary programme in la belle province; qualifying applicants from across the country were immersed wholly and academically in the culture of "the other" official language. All expenses ~ except airfare ~ were generously underwritten by Mother Canada. French

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-83384035290591545282011-11-08T06:24:00.000-08:002012-01-29T02:25:36.240-08:00

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-16213221700674984662011-11-08T02:14:00.000-08:002012-01-29T02:25:36.242-08:00

My friends are the best. Countless examples, but here's just one:A few Sundays ago, I managed to slip out for a sweet brunch with my beloved Girl Friday at sparkling Bastille in historic Ballard, where she treated me to gorgeous French toast and countless cups of delicious coffee. Effervescent conversational highlights unfortunately dictated our dining neighbours were occasionally peppered with

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-47846913253429859122011-10-31T11:53:00.000-07:002011-10-31T16:27:49.078-07:00

Two middle-aged actors. One food-reviewing roadtrip. Fine wine. Dead poets' homes. Semi-improvised script. Engaging characters. Haunting soundtrack. Capricious wit. Reverie-inducing landscapes.Michael Winterbottom.Need I say more?(photo deets: Taken on a walk home during summer, its shell was already host to countless scavengers.)

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-37725585361888168872011-10-26T18:49:00.000-07:002011-10-31T14:17:23.127-07:00

He chops dried timber twice weekly out behind his log cabin somewhere downtown Portland. She lugs her massive harp across Venice Beach sporting rollerblades, Lady of Shalott robes, and gossamer faerie wings. Or so I imagine.Am I a horrible person to actually be surprised at the outcome?What a great idea: wouldn't it be neat to start armwrestling leagues in the same vein as the UFC, but with

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-44437335173171505712011-10-26T04:27:00.000-07:002012-01-29T02:25:36.244-08:00

As is the case in general with much good music, sometimes the most resonating and gut-wrenching pieces are the ones you didn't quite love or even notice too much the first few (or many!) listens. While Lisa Hannigan's Passenger has been on constant rotation on my playlist, almost every track has been immediately enthralling, tracing the spaces of the heart and filling the in-betweens with the

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-71734286638691564232011-10-26T02:23:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:54:44.233-08:00

The clairvoyance of the subconscious mind sometimes terrifies me, the degree of synapses kicking your conscious ass into action without your leave, invitation, or even awareness until you pay heed its cues. And when you check in with the message, it's not always necessarily what you want to hear. Under what category would it fall: a conceptual connection, mere coincidence, or a deeper assault of

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-59888192516942706492011-10-17T17:41:00.000-07:002011-10-17T18:02:22.482-07:00

Look. I adore Robert Smith as much as any former sexacentenarian who had spent many a quality dark, cold night surrounded by swirls of both legal and contraband forms of smoke, low voices, and warm laughter. Indeed, as Emily Post is to etiquette, so I ascribe to his school of cosmetic application: messy and mad-looking in spite of the effort, yet still completely sincere.However. I can't help

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-83891751486753866962011-10-05T13:24:00.000-07:002012-01-06T12:29:25.472-08:00

It's raining! It's raining! Yay!!!Laid up with yet another immobilizing injury, it's awfully nice to be kept happy and busy with engaging work, snuggly warm with mutually-adoring company and entranced by the soothing sweetness of sprinkling joy outside. Last Tuesday, the night I got hurt, I finally cracked open my long-cherished copy of "The Great Gatsby," reading the gorgeous tome en route to

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-16597638853705033922011-10-03T02:10:00.000-07:002011-10-03T19:54:11.939-07:00

Posted this on fb the other day; whipped it off after about five seconds.I guess sticking it up there with the caption, "Can you smell cum?" might've been a bit much. But then, how can anyone resist such an enticing title? Or indeed, intriguing subject matter?So here it appears. A better argument against Victorianism ~ and explanation for England's seminal woes ~ I would be most delighted to

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-38535889020131741712011-09-23T03:15:00.000-07:002011-09-29T16:03:20.344-07:00

Oh, all the "finally's" we've been sighing lately in heartfelt relief.Sometimes, it takes a little while to get settled in and address certain concerns you discovered when you first toured your prospective dominion and thought, "Hmmm... X looks a wee bit neglected, but is hale and hearty just the same. Shows promise and needs a little work, but certainly not a dealbreaker."Amongst a few other key

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-76651683580078341602011-09-16T13:48:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:53:24.569-08:00

Procrastination is a bitch. Or, we can spin it 180 degrees in the other direction and say ~ with an insouciant, Gallic shrug ~ it was just one of those things that had its pre-destined time, that the proverbial apple was simply yet not ready to hurl itself screamingly off its branch to certain suicide fifteen months ago, when we first began taking turns promising to take each other out for

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-73878467492241416152011-08-28T02:50:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:56:29.690-08:00

"Not all those who wander are lost." ~ J. R. R. TolkienFor weeks now, my thoughts have been rather preoccupied with ruminations on Into the Wild, quite possibly because Summer's arid, crunchy grasses and radiantly incandescent sun provide sensual reminders of the wilderness in which Alex Supertramp first found himself upon arrival in the remote northern hinterlands. Also, after over two months

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-74957630472939146822011-08-26T14:01:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:52:34.065-08:00

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-70517425740176744602011-08-24T21:06:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:57:06.359-08:00

It is a truth indisputable that motherhood is spent mostly at the kitchen sink. From the first time you find yourself taking apart a breastpump to wash out all the fiddly bits to the afternoon you spend icing and scraping gum off the seat of your fifth-grader's pants, you can reckon the quality texture of your astonishingly lovely velcro hands has been well earned.As well as your

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-9088276377812573882011-04-22T04:42:00.000-07:002011-07-01T21:28:47.491-07:00

"Breathe. Keep breathing. Don't lose your nerve."Radiohead ~ "Exit Music (For a Film)"It's become one of those nights. Training went well, and after coming home, we showered, treated the kids to late night happy hour appies at our local taphouse, brought them back home again, tucked their sweet, sleepy heads in bed, then settled down at respective computers for some wind-down time, my

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-74697066333425525032011-04-07T16:49:00.000-07:002011-07-03T21:10:42.454-07:00

guilty pleasure: something one enjoys and considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it. The "guilt" involved is sometimes simply fear of others discovering one's lowbrow or otherwise embarrassing tastes. (Wikipedia)They are everywhere, and stashed within the quiet caverns of our secret lives are carefully-preserved pockets cradling their beating hearts. While most of us possess a

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-84006168727503601502011-03-31T03:26:00.000-07:002011-07-03T21:21:43.253-07:00

Chances are, if you're schlepping through life with a healthy pair of X chromosomes and a swagger lacking in butch, you are already all too familiar with the following scenario: You could be anywhere on the planet, in your hometown, or even on your city block. You can be in the basement laundry room of your apartment building, on the bus, walking past a café, crossing the street, or waiting for

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-78544381766082370072011-02-05T23:28:00.000-08:002011-02-13T23:20:43.749-08:00

Many, silent moons ago, when I was naught but a docile, wee lassie of nineteen, I spent many a day (and evening) with older childhood friends from youth group whom my Papa once derisively described as, "The Hunky Boys." After recovering from what could only have been very delicate, ladylike laughter, I asked him to repeat and explain himself. The lads were big, Ba said, and athletic. They also

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-74069893746795122502011-02-02T20:47:00.000-08:002012-01-05T19:59:37.443-08:00

Oh, my. Oh, my goodness. With a long day that began with a teeny-tiny four-hour sleep from 1-5am, I went for a 6:30am run around Greenlake with an amazing girlfriend, followed in consecutive order by a (late) walk to school with SiKay, a Pilates class, a coffee date-cum-walk-to-Fremont-for-pie-and-back with the Muay Thai Baker, and finished off with an early return home with all three kids. I

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-18183033968740045092011-02-01T23:40:00.000-08:002011-02-03T21:14:42.855-08:00

In keeping consistent with the blue vagueness that comes with the emotive rot of hormonal maelstrom ~ coupled dankly with a general sense of physical malaise and self-induced, pain-filled humiliation, here's a song that's been on repeat in my mind for the past few days. Its pervasive sense of smooth alienation from the numbing overkill of capitalism, media, information, and advertising ~ and

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-85098366293009581682011-01-29T19:24:00.001-08:002012-02-24T13:22:59.176-08:00

Anyone who has the misfortune of knowing me far too intimately is also likely (and reluctantly) well-acquainted with my wondrously, superlatively messed-up stomach. Although part of its lovely and unique character might credited, in part, to the residual effects of an unfortunate introduction to bacterially-embellished raw cilantro while traipsing in Mexico City fifteen years ago, my issues

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-73331017192358282872011-01-25T15:08:00.000-08:002011-01-26T14:47:14.183-08:00

The perfect, unexpected fusion of seredipity and synchronicity never fails to set me aglow. Over the holidays, I caught a vintage episode of Subterranean online (we'd cut our cable and were relying on the 'net for electronic entertainment... that is, until we finally broke down and got Netflix, plus an antenna-type thingie Chef Boy eventually picked up from Costco) and saw the nerve-tingling,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-19124000020796231742010-11-29T22:02:00.000-08:002010-12-01T16:57:10.138-08:00

Looked up a phrase while working on a piece tonight and felt compelled to share. This isn't exactly what I envision when a friend describes running the gauntlet at our dojo during belt promotions, where members of equal or superior rank remove their belts and playfully whack at newly-promoted students who walk, jog, shake hands, bunnyhop, kazatski, or cartwheel along the line. While I've been

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-52603784675295193272010-11-16T23:28:00.000-08:002010-11-16T16:43:04.257-08:00

As a born observer and knee-jerk-to-mind-fuck crafter of perpetually-refining theories, it's always interesting to see how heredity dictates patterns and preferences in one's progeny... and not. Along the same lines, birth order and its ensuing behavioural consistencies is a source of endless fascination; time-allowing, I need to delve deeply into hypotheses I've been developing over the years,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-7153637641811883792010-10-17T02:35:00.000-07:002010-10-17T02:39:35.186-07:00

Sur Pont NeufOn the Pont Neuf I happened uponThe source of that far off songFrom a river barge badly mooredOr from the Good Samaritan underground stopOn the Pont Neuf I happened uponPity for the human derelictsUnaided by dog, cane or placardFrom whom the crowds shift awayOn Pont Neuf I happened uponThe likeness of my own old soulThat had eyes for nought but cryingAnd a mouth for nought but

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-59392617982286745192010-10-15T14:57:00.000-07:002010-10-16T00:01:50.414-07:00

Finally got around to reading the original short version of Pope's Rape of the Lock via "The Scandal of the Season," a painstakingly, historically-accurate poègraphie (my made-up word for "biography of a poem") by a Princeton English prof, Sophie Gee. (The Australian native graduated, on full scholarship, with a PhD in English Lit from Harvard in 2002 at age 27, her thesis on "filth, residue and

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-78951401915655133232010-10-13T22:25:00.000-07:002010-11-19T23:58:45.227-08:00

I have decided: Listening to Interpol is like falling asleep with your face buried deeply in the warm, heady musk of your lover's crotch while sailing gently on a calm ocean in an old wooden ship with billowing white sails, dark-stained wood, and richly-patina'd brass fittings, your entwined bodies pearlescent with luminous moonglow, breaths sweetened with wine, racing hearts slowing to steady

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-27334338516594880772010-10-12T00:23:00.000-07:002010-10-13T23:02:21.869-07:00

Maybe it's a cold weather thing, but I am once again reminded of the immense pleasure and comfort in cooking deeply delicious and warming food while the kids are tucked sweetly in bed and the kitchen is filled with music and fragrant smells. Right this very moment, various geometric forms composing a succulent beef stew ~ in the perfect hues of crunchy bright autumn leaves ~ are simmering

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-68979328866579093412010-09-25T02:28:00.000-07:002010-09-25T21:37:32.960-07:00

Back in the day when I ~ pregnant with my firstborn and effervescent with excitement and gestational fascination ~ would trek to and from my apartment at the crest of Seattle's Queen Anne Hill to the soup kitchen at Saint James' Cathedral on First Hill, my city-traversing journey would take me past a grand-homme of a building which, for some inexplicable reason, invariably piqued my curiosity.

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-27047350127027115752010-09-23T14:40:00.000-07:002010-09-25T21:37:54.035-07:00

What a perfectly sweet and glowing little day it has been today. Perhaps it was the cool freshness of the dawn rain coupled with the surprising gifts of a sublime morning, but my internal soundtrack has been all about Nina Simone's blissful "Feeling Good" ~ which I am kindly resisting from re-posting on facebook as I tend to overpost there and underpost here. A few moments ago, however, while

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-39093075448723732712010-09-09T14:13:00.000-07:002012-01-01T22:52:01.381-08:00

The Bay. The title of this post alone could elicit so many different reactions. For pretty much anyone else on the planet, images of a lush green C-shaped harbour might spring to mind, with little fishing boats, pirate ships, or battleships gliding in and out of the vast open ocean.For Canadians, however, the very mention of these two words likely hearken a few choice things: The ubiquitious

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-60763918404096282002010-09-01T02:39:00.000-07:002010-09-01T21:38:30.018-07:00

Sometimes I find myself wondering, though honestly mainly when people comment on it, about my transfixion or preoccupation with music. Is there something wrong with it? And, if by asking that question, is there something wrong with me? Until the past few years, it never struck me as potentially strange to usually have some form of music playing its soundtrack in my mind that would sometimes

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-59039328375080175092010-08-30T03:08:00.000-07:002010-08-31T21:50:30.440-07:00

It's pretty funny the kinds of things you figure out as a kid, even without too much effort. By the time I reached nine, my Mom had told us enough stories about my father's childhood I made the correlation between his overwhelming emotional scarring ~ stemming from an exceedingly unhappy, terribly abused, and neglected upbringing ~ and the incredibly abusive and unpredictable behaviours he

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-8667830107249410452010-08-19T23:51:00.000-07:002010-11-19T23:58:56.186-08:00

I just can't stop listening to this song; it's been playing in my head non-stop for days on end. While the Doves decidedly put out my favourite "fuck-me" picks, Interpol definitely gets runners-up status, and this song ~ plus the likes of "Take You On A Cruise," "Obstacle 1," "Obstacle 2," and "A Time To Be So Small" ~ takes the sweet cake.The Jonas Brothers, this ain't.

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-41432830608680737262010-08-17T05:35:00.000-07:002010-11-19T23:58:45.232-08:00

"... for out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh."Matthew 12:34Call it a hunch, but I suspect it is only a scant few fellow shufflers along this mortal coil who aspire to live as closet cases... of anything. To be a Closet Case Anything, therein lies the implication there is something shameful, unacceptable, or "off" in a social, cultural, or moral way about you, and to be open

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-75959480924268216632010-06-22T04:03:00.000-07:002010-06-25T00:12:44.771-07:00

"O! pardon me, thou bleeding piece of Earth, that I am so gentle and mild with these butchers." ~ from "Julius Caesar" by William Shakespeare"Thus Bob Hunter, George Korotva, Fred Easton, and I found ourselves in front of a Soviet harpoon boat in June, 1975, as eight magnificent Sperm whales fled before us in a frenzied panic ~ a desperate race for their lives. We both smelt and felt their hot

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-9795748596516335452010-04-04T21:06:00.000-07:002010-04-06T16:59:26.300-07:00

As souls cradled in complex bodies that arc through life in various levels of health to one day return to obliterated nothingness, we all too often find ourselves torn emotionally asunder in battles of conscience, will, desire, need, and rationale. While our natures may be sinful and our hearts pure, temptations occasionally best us and sometimes... sometimes we realize we don't feel so bad

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-56472299640711139362010-03-10T03:31:00.000-08:002010-03-10T23:40:08.394-08:00

It's a life mystery warranting perhaps no more than a semi-oblique flutter of conscious examination, and anyone doomed to spend more than a cursory moment pondering such inconsequential things is likely plagued with a severe, unenviable case of Overthinkphilitus. Nevertheless, despite owning resignedly to my dour affliction, I still find myself wondering thusly: Is it preferable to experience

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-43765408896865643602010-02-17T02:43:00.000-08:002010-08-31T00:02:36.211-07:00

"Have you ever been in a really bad accident?" Girl Friday once asked me. "Like, a massive wreck where the car's completely totalled and you have every chance of dying ~ right there ~ in seconds."It was a chilly Sunday afternoon. Chef Boy had taken the Sproutlings out on a brisk gallivant around Seattle, and the two of us girls were freshly returned from a seven-mile wander that took us

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-48227453621027506532009-12-16T03:37:00.000-08:002011-10-05T19:19:33.922-07:00

I s'pose it's no secret I harbour little girly crushes on brainy, artistic, quirky, kind-hearted, and daring sweeties who lovingly craft gorgeous music for us to linger over and sigh. And why not? What's not to adore? Here is a sampling of some of my favourites, knocking together lovely and noteworthy covers that deserve listen after heartmelting listen. Lisa Hannigan: "Free Until They Cut Me

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-75246613857777466712009-11-21T20:02:00.000-08:002009-11-21T23:54:30.634-08:00

These damp and frigid autumn nights, I've been contentedly immersing myself in the Queyras recordings of the Bach Cello Suites for warming company. Although they're roundly considered by critics as one of the best complete recent compilations, I've decided to dig around and see what else I can find aside from the oft-referenced and highly-revered Yo-Yo Ma performances.Well, here is my Happy

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-87357306799072824752009-11-14T04:18:00.000-08:002009-11-16T09:09:47.123-08:00

I don't know if it's so much of a cheat than enthusiastic fan support, but it's been a while since I've posted stuff from one of my favourite sites, Street Anatomy. Thus, here are some recent things that are amusing, amazing, and soooooo unbelievably kewl.Entitled, "The Blind Dead," this piece was sculpted by Evan Campbell, whose work has been seen in films by Martin Scorsese, John Carpenter,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-28889968615341980052009-11-11T23:58:00.002-08:002009-11-13T12:35:30.334-08:00

Back in seventh grade, our very cool hippie teacher Mr. Christie mirthfully recounted a hairy incident in Greece. He'd been bargaining in a bustling old street market, and the merchant made a derogatory remark about Americans. "Well, I guess I won't get too offended, then, since I'm from Canada," he chirped in his perennially amiable fashion."Eh, Canadians, Americans, Americans, Canadians...

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-55041000639377772952009-11-11T23:54:00.000-08:002009-11-12T00:47:43.279-08:00

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-20940645768651238902009-11-09T04:16:00.000-08:002009-11-12T00:15:48.264-08:00

Confession: I talk in my sleep. Anyone who's ever shared a room ~ heck, even bed ~ with me has several stories to tell, and if it isn't cuddling up and curling myself around an unwitting sleeping partner (like Supe when we shared a bed in a motel for days before my wedding in Halifax), it's blurting out random and disturbing blips from dreams. Or moaning in my sleep from a lower bunk while at

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-35820889338060016592009-09-30T15:11:00.000-07:002009-10-02T14:08:40.891-07:00

"I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus, was on the island of Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. On the Lord's Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet which said: 'Write on a scroll what you see and send it to the seven churches: to Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-17003577538060691812009-09-09T05:23:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:43:27.538-07:00

It's been a crazy full day, with an even busier night. Spent the late afternoon whipping up a batch of succulent honey-garlic chicken breasts for the family's dinner ~ plus a gorgeously decadent low-fat-yet-ultramoist chocolate chocolate-chip zucchini cake for dessert. Evening saw me running off to take two wicked classes at my BJJ academy (which, considering a pulled back muscle, I totally

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-2450777201179640882009-09-06T01:49:00.000-07:002009-09-07T21:44:11.353-07:00

I don't follow Twitter or nothin', but Boy found this on Digg and seriously. Favourite. Twitter. Member. Ever.*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Name: Justin Bio: I'm 28. I live with my 73-year-old dad. He is awesome. I just write down shit that he says "Who in the fuck is tila tequila? Is she a stripper?...That's her? Yeah, that's a stripper, son, I don't give a shit what you say." about 8 hours ago

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-2168729927696530002009-09-05T23:30:00.000-07:002009-11-13T11:56:30.493-08:00

I am hellbent on a mission, and a time sensitive one at that. With Greece exactly four weeks and one day away, I must act swiftly: photos to flash, tactical tactics with which to tactfully attack, phone calls to hopefully make. Like Ralphie, his much lusted-after Red Ryder BB gun, and that pesky little Christmas Eve deadline in A Christmas Story, the hints will drop faster and furiouser,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-14851178593754720752009-09-03T14:54:00.000-07:002009-09-06T01:31:25.546-07:00

As we enter the first week of September and Autumn gently raises her flaming auburn head, thoughts of season-appropriate music come to mind. Pearl Jam's Ten will always be the soundtrack of going back to school in eleventh grade and lying on rugby fields with friends, wearing cozy sweaters and shorts and twirling crisp, fiery leaves between our fingers. Long before Mazzy Star's Fade Into You

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-37226897399102985642009-09-03T12:09:00.000-07:002009-09-04T13:48:40.901-07:00

As it may well have been for countless other children growing up in North America, my first encounter with the work of Edward Gorey was through the macabre and cheeky introductory titles of PBS's "Mystery!" With its menacingly cloaked male figures skulking about with knives in hand and fainting damsels in distress fluttering across the screen ~ all accompanied by that oh-so-familiar saucy tango,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-50466886884783374022009-08-26T05:05:00.000-07:002009-08-27T00:36:02.516-07:00

"For the heart is an organ of fire."Michael Ondaatje, "The English Patient"Although it is usually concealed beneath the fabric of my clothing, there is a notable artery that runs horizontally in the valley between my breasts, infinitisimally further south in latitude than the base of my first tattoo. It is aquamarine in hue ~ like the crystalline eyes of a dear Middle Eastern friend ~ though

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-7855849927376308702009-08-26T03:42:00.000-07:002009-08-28T15:46:50.321-07:00

It happens far less now than it has in the past, but there have been nights when I've been so depressed or stressed out I'd silently cry myself to sleep. It would even get to the point where I'd awaken and find myself weeping; I'd have to force myself to get up and splash my face with water to hopefully avoid developing swollen, puffy eyes the next morning.As lucky and blessed as most of us

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-53312079058566106702009-08-18T02:49:00.000-07:002011-09-24T22:45:14.777-07:00

"We cannot understand what happens in the universe. What is glorious in it is united with what is full of horror. What is full of meaning is united to what is senseless. The spirit of the universe is at once creative and destructive — it creates while it destroys and destroys while it creates, and therefore it remains to us a riddle. And we must inevitably resign ourselves to this."Albert

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-11544833919143588912009-08-12T06:29:00.000-07:002012-01-05T19:59:37.437-08:00

I have a problem. It's probably not unique to me, but it still sucks. Balls. And now I'm self-medicating like a drug-addled celebrity to get through my grappling day, popping pills in a hopefully fruitful manoeuvre to negate new pain, ease compression, and make my evenings generally go more swell. Oh wait... you probably have no idea what I'm talking about so I should probably backpedal here

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-19985765261352424862009-08-12T03:51:00.000-07:002009-08-18T13:01:50.194-07:00

(For my non-Francophone readers, please either ignore this post entirely or throw it into one of the numerous free on-line translators out there. The purpose of my writing in a different language is primarily to help me get over the rut of being overly critical or pensive about my writing, and help me get back into the practice of getting stuff out there again. Just as a precursor if you are

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-8970108334009905672009-08-01T12:53:00.000-07:002009-08-03T12:13:53.912-07:00

I love, love, love my friends... and am breathless with heartstopping anticipation and nervewracking trepidation: Kickboxing Boy should be home soon, and I have something terrifying to ask him. This morning, Saint Cat and I had been shooting messages back and forth... and as she had last November when I was feeling fragile and in deep need for space to think and not to think, she has once again

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-9410240914473803242009-08-01T03:34:00.000-07:002009-08-01T22:21:53.121-07:00

It's been a bit of an actual and emotional shitstorm lately, and I don't think I can completely credit the hormones for it all. There's been a lot going on, but I'm so confused and worried about most of it I'm not quite sure what to think or how to respond. And, due to a serious lack of informational basis because there really are just some things you can't ask anyone who's involved firsthand,

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-13174000791705084562009-07-13T22:17:00.000-07:002009-07-17T20:29:07.748-07:00

"The first time I saw a movie at the cinématèque française I thought, 'Only the French... only the French would house a cinema inside a palace.'" ~ Matthew, "The Dreamers"One of the most aesthetically intoxicating films I have ever seen is Bernardo Bertolucci's 2003 masterpiece, The Dreamers. If you're familiar with the visual sumptuousness of his earlier works like The Last Emperor and Little

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-37945302921086923762009-07-13T19:34:00.000-07:002009-07-14T22:10:02.624-07:00

Sorry, everyone! Got a couple of e~mails over the past few days wondering why certain posts have gone missing. For some odd reason, a random bunch got archived as drafts over the past week or so (blogspot gremlins? I have no idea), but hopefully what you're looking for is back up. If not, it's either because I'm not wanting to post that particular piece anymore, or would like to tweak it

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-56849374507150843012009-07-13T07:46:00.000-07:002010-04-26T10:46:38.152-07:00

I have a secret weapon that's actually not such a well-kept secret. After all, they've been pointed at, alluded to, and mocked. I guess it might have something to do with how they sometimes peek out over my pants which can ride down a bit from the rough and tumble of drilling and rolling, and they also have the tendency to daringly eyeball the world through the side-gaps of aforementioned pants

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-88101140666524955252009-07-13T06:47:00.000-07:002009-07-13T09:51:47.246-07:00

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-8409108444749648142009-07-13T06:07:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:14:34.040-07:00

This video by MGMT completely baffles me, and no amount of viewing can convince me this child was not traumatized in the making of it. Hope the band is actively socking away a massive wad to pay for his therapy ten years from now...

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-59565221421895649832009-07-07T05:27:00.000-07:002009-08-18T13:38:24.683-07:00

It's about time I start one of these journals; as I intend to study this discipline for the long-haul, some online form of accountability might just be the ticket to keep me in check. Also, it'll be good to have a record of my training history. So, to inaugurate my new Jitsu Journal, let me begin with a little confession.I have been training in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu for exactly a year and a

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-17951600094546458662009-07-06T03:50:00.000-07:002009-07-07T00:43:20.433-07:00

seattle-tacoma craigslist > seattle > bicycles Avoid scams and fraud by dealing locally! Beware any deal involving Western Union, Moneygram, wire transfer, cashier check, money order, shipping, escrow, or any promise of transaction protection/certification/guarantee.Red woman's bicycle - $60 (North Seattle)__________________________________________________Reply to: sale-1244159777@craigslist.org

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-39595058447515205682009-06-28T21:31:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:38:54.572-07:00

It's hard to be a fan of Pearl Jam and not know band member Mike McCready is a sufferer of Crohn's disease, as well as a passionate spokesperson for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America. But what does the disease look like to someone who has it, and how does one cope? And is it possible to keep it all Sexy and Fabulous without breaking an unladylike sweat?Well.Back in October, I wrote

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-75480830932025042512009-06-28T20:54:00.000-07:002009-06-28T22:52:58.829-07:00

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-43152647983788467522009-06-28T16:34:00.000-07:002009-06-30T00:10:24.957-07:00

I suspect I'm not alone in my enjoyment of this fun little activity, but every once in a while I'll hear a chord progression, riff, or something that triggers a, "Hey, that's either a blatant rip-off, homage bit, or crazy coinkidink, 'cuz I've heard that before! It sounds a lot like..." And it's always fun to check out my hunch and actually get it totally right. It's even more of a killer score

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-38698916978747096782009-06-28T04:44:00.000-07:002009-06-28T23:18:18.581-07:00

Eight years ago, my brother and I decided to stop buying birthday presents for each other; we would try to make them instead. Little did I expect what popped up in my inbox on the morning of my 26th, but it's definitely one of the most neatest gifts I've ever received:Yes, it is entirely possible to laugh and cry at the same time. Just to break it down, here is my birthday card explained. (As

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-38407928126817364752009-06-22T00:41:00.000-07:002009-06-22T00:42:06.526-07:00

Arvo Pärt (1935~present)Composer, teacher, philosopher, innovator."That is my goal: time and timelessness are connected. This instant and eternity are struggling within us. And this is the cause of all our contradictions...." Lloyd Alexander (1924~2007)Beloved author, biographer, historian, translator. C.S. Lewis (1898~1963)Author, essayist, academic, theologian, apologist. Frédéric Chopin (1810

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-67692764818813225952009-06-18T04:35:00.000-07:002009-07-06T20:25:15.130-07:00

"She was again conscious of some new idea, and was not sure whither it would lead her.""Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them."E.M. Forster (1879~1970) ~ "A Room With a View"Sometimes, when faced with a triumvirate of pervasive thoughts swirling around a sole, central nucleus, it seems uncouthly

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-9352881589344161462009-06-12T19:45:00.000-07:002009-06-13T17:26:01.815-07:00

I know it's beyond ridiculous as it's been ages, but we finally got our shit together last night: Pig Thursday with Girl Friday has been reinstated... at least for one memorable evening of chuckles, gasps, and cackles. And while adorable Tony ran back and forth to keep the pints and pints everflowing, GF and I unsurprisingly found ourselves awash in amazement over our shared penchant for being

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-21678529239359383292009-06-10T20:33:00.000-07:002009-06-12T12:15:24.745-07:00

"The people made these fires by this river about 450 000 years ago ~ before the last two ice ages. During their time, the Outer Mongolian plateau to the north continued its slow rise, blocking Indian Ocean monsoons; the northern plateau dried to dust and formed the Gobi Desert. The people would have seen dust clouds blow from the north, probably only a few big dust clouds every year. Such dust

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-85058363130715438902009-06-05T14:01:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:58:41.262-07:00

At 25, 'Tetris' Drops Into Place As Gaming Icon AP, June 2, 2009 · With its scratches and sticky brown beer stains, the Tetris arcade machine near the back of a Brooklyn bar called Barcade has seen better days. Which makes sense, given that the machine was made in the 1980s.Even today, though, it's not hard to find 20- and 30-somethings plucking away at its ancient controls, flipping shapes made

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-49153640460968210022009-05-26T12:26:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:49:22.038-07:00

British Booty does it again. If she weren't already such an amazing girlfriend, artist, cook, wife, mother, writer, PTA member, band promotor, fellow gig-girl, and driver, now add "photographer" to her CV. Coming back from Sasquatch at the Gorge yesterday, she was not only full of fun tales to regale ("I caught the tail-end of The Walkmen's set, and it was 'The Rat'!" (grrrr)) and dark

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-26305620223879926432009-05-24T01:20:00.000-07:002009-06-28T23:54:59.138-07:00

Note: A cover of a song is only worthy if it not only takes a grand departure stylistically from the original, but also embeds ~ in its own right ~ a mark in cultural consciousness. Examples of exemplary covers include Jimi Hendrix's version of Bob Dylan's All Along the Watchtower, Jeff Buckley's rendition of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, Johnny Cash's take on Nine Inch Nails' Hurt, and William

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-29370431523431727322009-05-20T15:57:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:35:09.113-07:00

The Stolen Child (1886) Where dips the rocky highlandOf Sleuth Wood in the lake,There lies a leafy islandwhere flapping herons wakeThe drowsy water-rats;There we've hid our faery vats,Full of berriesAnd of reddest stolen cherries.Come away, O human child!To the waters and the wildWith a faery, hand in hand,For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.Where the wave of moonlight

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-79284511853256748542009-05-20T11:27:00.000-07:002009-07-13T13:35:57.597-07:00

YouTube cracks me up again. This is the last piano teacher with whom I studied in Vancouver. Eugene's a prof at the University of British Columbia, and was perhaps the least intense Russian teacher I ever had. Not only was he fabulously musical, but he was also ridiculously kind; he would pick me up, feed me, give me extra lessons, and take me back to school when I had spare blocks free. He

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-76595162887520269742009-05-18T18:32:00.000-07:002009-08-18T16:36:07.968-07:00

Sunday, May 17th ~ It is 2:17 in the afternoon, and I am scrawling this in bird-seed font on an opened-up corrugated coffee condom. It is hardly the ideal medium upon which to write, but it is available, the mind is full, and the pen is excited. Am at the seashore right now, writing while the children contentedly construct unhurried, ambitious dams under the helpful eye of a retired Boeing

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-72999624082191033912009-05-18T01:42:00.000-07:002009-05-27T00:42:43.127-07:00

It was a successful day, by any measure. After school this past downpoury grey Wednesday, the three tikes and I took the #18 downtown to buy some advance tickets to see Cracker at the newly-restored Crocodile. After a bit of a debacle which involved discovering the box office took cash only, racing through slugging rain to get to an ATM in a nearby convenience store, and being accosted twice(!)

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-4462953651694264892009-05-16T00:36:00.000-07:002009-07-05T21:16:33.059-07:00

Last weekend, this song came on as we were standing around The Firepit in the backyard, and British Booty remarked how "Irish" it sounded. Ironic, because for me it has always been walking along the canals in Galway in the cool air of a spring evening with a neck that's slightly cool and wet from being kissed. Just thinking about it makes it hard to even breathe...Spiritualized ~ "Sitting on

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-60816130957049044752009-05-14T14:54:00.000-07:002011-12-14T02:37:16.732-08:00

Underwater fever has not quite left my psyche yet, so here is a lovely, aquatically-themed video from Iceland's enigmatic Sigur Rós. Once again, their visuals feature children in rather eerie environments ~ acting on somewhat disturbing impulses ~ while the music swirls lushly and transcendentally around your heart and mind. Don't mind the sinister overtones; that's just classic cinematic Sigur

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-80704771323286634652009-05-11T23:18:00.000-07:002009-06-14T19:40:17.772-07:00

The value of art lies in its ability to make your heart hurt for its delicate balance of strength and fragility.Seamlessly meshing the deeply romantic aesthetic of Pre-Raphaelite sirens with the hushed, dream-like fluidity of the Impressionists, this is the sublime underwater photography of Canadian artist Barb Cole. A self-taught photographer who quit high school to seek her bliss, she

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-76300589611476794902009-05-11T21:12:00.000-07:002009-08-27T20:49:37.591-07:00

Our lives are often comprised of a series of complicated love affairs: sometimes concurrent, always all-consuming. The subjects may be blithely oblivious ~ or perhaps even fully aware ~ of our ardour, but in the case of my current paramour, his unrequited utilitarian escape and my admiration from a safe distance is the best I'll have to settle for. After all, I am coveting that which is not

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-56756918039220501162009-05-10T23:34:00.000-07:002009-05-11T10:04:24.965-07:00

SiKay excitedly awaiting the arrival of friends for our big birthday bash yesterday.Absolute Love. CockTail, Smores, and Birthday Chef around the blazing Firepit. It's amazing how I've missed these wonderful boys, especially my beloved, gentle Smores.En route to the Demian Maia seminar with spunky Jiujitsugrrrl.Demian deftly rolling with another black belt afterwards.The Sweet Swede and I.

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986138967896259481.post-5651959105889312682009-05-07T23:06:00.000-07:002009-05-08T11:26:01.899-07:00

I am obviously wasting my time.Came home from a sweet night full of sweeps, armbars, attempted triangles, and good old-fashioned verbal scandal. Showered, got into some comfy cozies, and settled down with some tofu and noodles to find this in the TV listings."Oh, for feck's sakes, say it ain't so. Is it? Can it be...?"Why, yes. Yes, it is.The Wrestler it is not. It's not even bad-ass.It is

kerawinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09327521138251244233noreply@blogger.com2