Category — Media

Home is asking to be wrapped. Rooms wait ready to spill out door, into arms of strangers, onto trucks, into cardboard, buried in storage, carted on boat. Too many bins and boxes for my little head: what to keep, what to store, what to sell, what to bring to Bowen, what to ship out east, what to give to family, what, where, how, when…

But I know life sits out of hand. In arms a billion star courses wide. And I take her hand, now one-year-old, and walk our path to smiling eyes. Sit in her chair at our coffee house. Visit our park, swing our swings, dip in our wading pool, visit our friends, roll all over green carpet thick, laid out under our trees, eat sushi where they remember our alaska rolls and our names.

Soon, together three, we will light new paths, grieve old ones, sit huddled in front of burning hearth, welcome friends at ferry dock and feed hungry mouths, rest weary heads in our island home. We hear the Voice who’s laid out our mornings, years, seeking Face that tells our story. These six months will set a course, I can feel it.

There is much ahead. Family to forge. Words to write. Poetry to spill. Schooling to ingest. Home to make.

I met a friend while visiting in-laws last week who told me her story. Of her travels to Romania, working with Gypsies, igniting a call to international law. She’s running toward it. This relit my heart to study more: media’s impact on democracy — how our incessant ingesting of information shapes our understanding of citizenship. Perhaps a Masters in Toronto, time and prayer will tell.

Much is afoot in my little writerly life. The book, the one about women who seek Jesus but don’t all look like suburban mammas, edgy, world-changing gals who rock tats, paint up storms, influence politics here and overseas, is out as a proposal… seeking an agent / publisher. I’ll post some pages so you can see. Poetry is being submitted, I’ll share as it makes its way onto pages. I hope to start having others share their poetry here. I’ve been inspired by my friend Emily’s imperfect prose Thursdays.

My sister-in-law, Brittany, and I have a crazy idea of starting a little onesie company, using my husband’s adorable old Scouting badges: Badge of Honour onesies on Etsy. We’re setting up shop as I type.

For now we take the days as they come, living them full, here in our home in Burnaby… Thank you for sharing this adventure with us.

A very goofy angel

It took parenthood to awaken me to the fragility of life. 

These days, as I make my way through the world, fearful thoughts dart through my mind: 

“What if that car, racing the red, hit me? I’d be brain-damaged, mangled. Would my daughter recognize me? When they wheeled me out of surgery would her face still crest like the sun at the sight of me? Or would she not know me at all?” 

I imagine her life without her mother and my eyes well with a flurry of tears.

In other moments, I think:

“What if something happened to my little girl? What if she had a life-threatening disease, her body shrunken to a mere few pounds as she fought for life? How would I cope with feeding tubes being laced down her throat? Would I crumble like paper or would I rise up, warring in the fight?”

I find my lips whispering prayers of thanks for life, every day. It’s a new posture for me. For most of my life I have taken life for granted. It was given. I am living it. But now, with a small life entrusted into my faulty hands, I tread lightly. I am mindful. I want to drive slower, look both ways, meander more, notice. 

It’s the way God sees, I think. He watches this spinning globe He made and hones in on a delightful little boy kicking soccer balls in Argentina. He smiles. Delights in this young child, destined for a profession in plumbing, fatherhood, public service. He sees the fullness of a life unfolding beneath dusty feet.

God is a God of love, the Bible tells us over and over. 

Psalm 33:18 reads: “The Lord watches over those who obey him, those who trust in his constant love.” 

How would our lives look differently if we believed it?

I’d be much less fearful, I think.

Here in the Terminal City the Olympics have arrived, the sun is making a rare February appearance, and Vancouverites are uncharacteristically Canada-clad. It’s a lovely scene.

So far, thanks to my brother in Whistler, I’ve been able to attend the final dress rehearsal of the Opening Ceremonies which at times reminded me of Cirque du Soliel and left me similarly jaw-dropped. If you watched it, I’m referring to orcas taking breaths through the floor of BC Place. From our vantage point in the nose-bleeds, it was breathtaking. Nelly Furtado and Sarah MacLachlan weren’t too shabby either. 

I’ve been donning my cherry red Olympic mittens with pride as Madeleine and I galavant through Metro Vancouver, and my red Roots hoodie has been getting its share of wear. Oh Canada. 

I’ve only watched a bit of the actual Games because we live in a cable-free home. On my mom’s t.v. I saw Canada pummel Norway in hockey (sorry Hunny,) at our neighbourhood coffee shop I witnessed the Dutch kick-ass in speed skating, and while I got my haircut at a friend’s house yesterday morning, I took in some curling. What I’d really like to see is some big air. 

Last week I spent the better part of a morning with the Billy Graham Rapid Response Team, interviewing them for a piece for Decision. No, they weren’t called in in the wake of disaster (although the first few days of the Games had its share of it.) Instead they are in town to serve with the More than Gold, a Christian umbrella organization, as community chaplains and hospitality volunteers. You know, serving hot chocolate and all that. They were a great bunch, the oldest of which was a spry seventy years. I met them at the base of Canada Place (aka the International Media Centre,) steps away from the Olympic torch, which also happens to be my little sister’s place of work. So, her and I met up.   

Thursday is my big Olympic Day. I am going to bundle Madeleine up in her adorable blue and white sweater (the most Olympic-looking item in her ‘closet,’) comb through downtown and buy her a Quatchi bear. 

Vive les Jeux Olympiques!

Tonight my good friend Marisa and I took to the Regional Assembly of Text for a special letter writing night. The CBC was there filming a doc, so basically we were stars. Typing stars. 

Oh yeah, our monthly Letter Writing Party is taking place a week early this month so we can write our mushy, ooey gooey love letters in time for Valentine’s Day. E-mail me for the locale. Julia the Chemist (a famous commenter around these parts) is hosting it at a lovely Queen’s Park apartment. 

Clickity clack, that’s that.

Paris, 2009

Cardus, my favourite Canadian think tank and publisher of Comment magazine, where I frequently contribute, has a new online venture called After Hours. It’s a daily blog interested in ‘issues that affect the architecture of North American public life, including economics, literature, religion, politics, social and scientific innovation (and sundry other things.)’

“Slow for Good,” my first post as a Contributing Editor, went live last Thursday. It’s a bit ‘manifesto-y,’ according to my husband. I get that way sometimes. 

Anyone is welcome to contribute to After Hours. Please, fire off an e-mail if you are interested.

Brilliance from the Wooster Collective.

In the artist’s own words:

“these days it seems shoes and clothes just aren’t enough anymore.

i’ve always loved working in different mediums on the street - stencils, pastes, stickers, cardboard, wood, etc.. over the years you watch your works disappear no matter what the medium - from weather, other artists, property owners, etc.. anyone that does this for a while starts to realize that with more thought out placement, things can last a long ass time, a lot longer than pieces placed haphazardly. so lately i’ve not only been choosing my locations more wisely but have been doing things that attempt to blend in with the existing surroundings. i’m sure these alterations go mainly unnoticed for the most part but for me it offers the same satisfaction as the other things i do on the street - it’s all about altering the outside world no matter how subtle”

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P.S. We decided not to move. It’s a faith thing.

The UN announced yesterday that talks towards a new global climate deal — set to wrap this December in Copenhagen — are now in serious jeopardy. Realistically, they said, only a massive show of public support over the next few weeks can sway the outcome, showing our leaders “they have their populations behind them” for bold political action.

Could it happen? Just maybe. This summer we were approached by a remarkable coalition within the climate movement, now representing more than 200 leading NGOs including Greenpeace, Avaaz, OXFAM and Christian Aid. Together we designed a global campaign called TckTckTck tailored for just this purpose — showing our leaders that “the world is ready”.

You can check out the TckTckTck.org campaign here — and all the action leading up to Copenhagen.

Since we launched the site in August it’s grown like wildfire. Today we surpassed an incredible 2 MILLION PEOPLE ready to lobby as Copenhagen nears — and this could be our best chance at influencing a deal.

What explains the massive response? The urgency of the issue? The simplicity of the ask? The theory of change and outreach? Yes. But more than anything, it’s about Tck’s powerful model of online organizing. It’s about well-established groups setting aside their brands and egos to collaborate openly for the movement — focused on giving people a powerful platform to impact an issue they care about. That’s promising stuff indeed.

Again, you can check out the TckTckTck.org site here. 

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From the good people at Biro Creative.

I need to publicly thank Heather B. Armstrong for showing me that Twitter is good for something.

Dooce it up people. It will make you smile smile smile. Thanks to Meg for introducing me. (Hope your road trip is going swimmingly, Miss W.) ;)  

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ps. no bebe yet.

A word from our friends at Adbusters

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Every human being has the unassailable right to seek, receive and impart information without hindrance.

This right, enshrined in Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, is something for which we at Adbusters have been fighting since our inception. Our not-for-profit group, Adbusters Media Foundation, was born 20-years ago in response to broadcaster censorship that refused to run our citizen-produced ads. Over the last two decades, we have been censored by television networks all over the world and we have launched numerous legal actions in Canada against the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) and private broadcasters (notably CanWest Global), fighting for the right of citizens to walk into their local TV stations and buy 30 seconds of airtime for a message they believe in.

For 20 years we were knocked back at every stage: we were defeated in the lower courts and the Supreme Court of Canada refused to hear our appeals. But last April, we finally scored a great legal victory. In a unanimous decision, the British Columbia Court of Appeal overturned previous court rulings and concluded that television airtime may indeed constitute public space. This crucial ruling allowsAdbusters to proceed with its groundbreaking case against media conglomerates.

In order to take our fight to the next stage, we need an immediate injection of funds. We are asking for donations from people all over the world who believe that information rights are the key to a flourishing democracy and that those rights are now more imperative than ever in giving citizens a voice in navigating our path through the dangerous times ahead.

To donate, please visit www.adbusters.org/donate … or send a cheque to Adbusters Media Foundation … or give us a call at 604-736-9401/1-800-663-1243 (toll free in North America). As Adbusters has subscribers in 20 countries around the world, we are also trying to get in touch with media lawyers in the US, Australia and the UK who are interested in launching Right To Communicate legal actions in their own countries.

If you have ideas, need more information or want to talk strategy, email kono@adbusters.org.

for the wild,

Kalle Lasn
Editor and Co-founder, Adbusters Media Foundation