THE MAIN STREET MAGAZINE TOUR
Thursday, August 19, 2010, 6:00–10:00 p.m.
mainstreetmagazinetour.ca

Celebrate our local arts, cultural and literary magazines, with poets Jennica Harper and Elizabeth Bachinsky as your guides.

VANCOUVER – The Main Street Magazine Tour is a free event that invites participants to explore the local literary landscape, set against Vancouver’s eclectic Main Street neighbourhood. Known previously as the Main Street Literary Tour, the event now shines a spotlight on the arts and culture “magascene,” with presentations by FRONT, OCW Magazine, Ricepaper, Room, Sad Mag and subTerrain—all Vancouver-based publications. The tour starts at the Rhizome Café (317 E. Broadway) on Thursday, August 19 at 6:00 p.m.

From there, poets Elizabeth Bachinsky (EVENT magazine poetry editor and author of God of Missed Connections, 2009) and Jennica Harper (winner of the 2009 National Magazine Silver Award in Poetry and author of What It Feels Like for a Girl, 2008) will lead two tours that traverse the area at Main Street and Broadway, stopping in at local haunts for 30-minute encounters with city’s arts, cultural and literary publications.

“What’s fun about this event is its spontaneous, grassroots nature,” says Heidi Waechtler of the Magazine Association of British Columbia, the organization that coordinates the event. “We’re showcasing literary arts magazines out in the community, in spaces you wouldn’t necessarily expect to see poetry readings or improv, such as a vintage clothing store and a hair salon. The tour makes visible the intersection of magazines with our communities and our everyday lives—how they both reflect and shape our culture.”

The Magazine Association of British Columbia (formerly known as the British Columbia Association of Magazine Publishers) was established in 1993 to represent, connect and promote the diverse British Columbia magazine industry by uniting and fostering the immense talent, knowledge and skills of its more than 80 member publishers. For more information about the association, visit bcmags.com.

TOUR ITINERARY

Thursday, August 19, 2010
6:00–10:00 p.m.

Meetup point: Rhizome Café (317 E. Broadway), 6:00 p.m. Select Tour A or Tour B—or mix and match!

TOUR A
· Room magazine presents poetry by Casey Wolf and Elena Johnson. (Kafka’s Coffee & Tea, 2525 Main St.)
· subTerrain magazine, source of Strong Words for a Polite Nation, presents readings from issue #56. (Pulpfiction Books, 2422 Main St.)
· Slam poetry by Fernando Raguero collides with improv by members of The Exploding Sandwich, Hip Bang! and Pump Trolley, presented by the recently relaunched OCW Magazine. (F As In Frank Vintage Clothing, 2425 Main St.)

TOUR B
· Ricepaper magazine celebrates the launch of 15.3, the Food Issue, with a reading of a tasty new play by Linda Mei, featuring Adrienne Wong and Fiona Tinwei Lam, followed by delectable poetry by Ray Hsu. (Rhizome Café, 317 E. Broadway)
· Visit the FRONT magazine reading room and meet artist Heidi Nagtegaal, who’s combed through 20 years of the magazine’s archives to produce a limited number of one-of-a-kind presents for tour-goers. (The Western Front, 303 E. 8th Ave.)
· Sad Mag presents a conversation with salon owner Jim Dreichel and Burcu Ozdemir (of Burcu’s Angels) on drag culture, gay and lesbian culture, and the history of Main Street. Hosted by drag sensation Isolde N. Barron. (Mine:Stylesource, 177 E. Broadway)

Afterparty: Rhizome Café, 8:20 p.m. onwards. Readings by Elizabeth Bachinsky and Jennica Harper, prize giveaways, magazine sales and music.

My most recent article appeared in the New York-based Curator last Friday. You can give it a read here.

An excerpt:

“There’s no question that technology has overrun our lives. Over the past century, the world has welcomed technological ‘progress’ with arms wide open and we’re living with the clicking, dinging, anxiety-inducing deluge of it.

But a creative backlash is underway, helping human beings cope with the avalanche of data that passes in front of most of us every day through the use of computers and cell phones.

Slow food, the back-to-the-land movement, and groups like letter writing clubs are being formed by a new subculture: the 21st century luddite, wielding fountain pen and notebook, and some checking e-mail from the public library a mere hour per week. Dolen and Fedoruk think this movement is more than a blip on the technological continuum…”

This may be my favourite article to date. I hope you enjoy it!

Bowen Island, May 2010

Two of the great griefs of my life surround a love and church. It’s no surprise really, being that they’re two of the great investments offered us. Over five years a staggering amount of loss overtook, what I had considered, a mountainous faith. Chip by chip the magnanimity I once lived with came to a thunderous fall. I’ve been making my way back, slowly, since then. Through prayer. Writing. Counseling. Conversations. Hitting my head against the wall. Catching glimpses of light. There’s only so much you can do. 

That’s why two consecutive days, a couple of weeks ago, so much caught me by surprise and stumbled me over into a stream of forgotten grace. Questions I’ve been asking for years were answered on the spot.

It began on a Thursday. 

A friend from Ontario and his girlfriend came over to have coffee in the morning, then Madeleine and I stepped out of the house to have lunch with an old friend in Stamp’s Landing. Hugs, smiles and laughter were exchanged as he was introduced to our little girl for the first time. I sat back and basked in his recounting of the past year — new girlfriend, good job, church investment — taking note of his words:

“I’m happy. [Pause] It’s a weighty happiness. There’s a weight to it.”

As our meals arrived, (mine, a bed of spinach topped with candied salmon, and his, a prime rib burger,) he invited us to prayer. A beautiful, accomplished, to-the-nines man praying at waterfront hotspot, aloud. 

“Thank you God for friends, and for new life. Bless this meal…”

Bless. Bless. Bless.

Two broken people. A boy. A girl. A rambunctious toddler between. And hope spilling everywhere. You see, around the same time this friend and I found ourselves in a desert place in our hearts. Tired. Confused. Hurting. Deeply guilt-ridden. Longing. Here he is in a new place, with a fresh, beautiful posture of peace. Surrounded by friends, forging new faith in similar terrain — in a church not unlike the one in his old city. He didn’t give up. He hasn’t. And the spirit of God is blessing his open heart.

Bless. Bless. Bless.

There may have only been a crack but it was all He needed. You can see the joy in my friend’s eyes. Peace. Not striving. Contentment with hope. Dreams for the future. Promise. This is what a God-man looks like.

I am reminded: the church is beautiful.

I leave aflourish.

The same afternoon I spend an hour with half of an inspiring couple of artists training in Vancouver to return to Germany to establish a community arts centre in an old brick factory once used by Nazis during WWII. Light bursting out of the dark and broken. Their synergy is palpable. Their centre, obvious: Christ their hope, beginner and finisher of their faith.

Yes, I am reminded: the mission is beautiful. 

I come home and kiss my husband. Yes. We will see with the same light. 

Yes, marriage is beautiful.

Bless. Bless. Bless. 

Finally, the next day. I decide early to spend the afternoon in Sapperton, New Westminster. I go to meet my girlfriend who’s the new manager at the local java watering hole — Starbucks. We visit. Then I walk. Only to return to share a coffee with my mom. Halfway through our visit a woman with a daughter similarly aged to Madeleine walks in. My mom recognizes her/befriends her. Names and hugs were exchanged. 

This person is a tie to my past. Unbeknownst to my mom who continues the conversation for close to fifteen minutes. This is the girl I’d want to hate. The end. The one. The chapter-ender. A love torn like vellum, scattered on icy winds near Larch Street with no resolve, and ended in her arms. 

As her butter words spilled out, all jealousy, all fear, fled like a sparrow. My heart melted in an instant. 

“Yes, I’d like to meet your daughter. Yes, motherhood is the greatest experience in the world.” Yes. Yes. 

Bless. Bless. Bless.

I wanted to wrap her in my arms. Wanted to stroll away, our babies quietly bundled, and talk with her until the words ran out. I hoped the joy in my eyes made its way home in her arms. To him.

Yes, I am reminded: love is beautiful.

I am lying on wings. I am unwrapped. I am ready. 

Yes.

::::

I thank Brad Roberts for my new theme song — And It’s Beautiful — from Crash Test Dummies’ new album, OOoh, La La, released this week.

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!

So, I splurged.

Yesterday we celebrated Father’s Day with a visit to my dad and stepdad, but before stepping out of the house my husband got to experience his very first father’s day:

Eggs Benny. Homemade Hollandaise. Fruit Salad. Bacon. Fresh coffee. A letterpress card.

And tickets! to see Death Cab at the Coliseum next month. Woohoo!

I read this interesting article about how to bond with your preborn baby over the weekend. Apparently baby will be rocking out at the concert with us!

“Concert-going mothers report their preborn babies jump at the sudden sound of drums. In fact, from at least the 23rd week on, a preborn baby’s hearing is developed enough to enable him to respond to outside noise… Even the five-month-old fetus has been found to have discriminating musical ears.”  - From 7 Ways to Bond with your Preborn Baby 

And now Michael is off to Toronto for a week of work. Darling, I miss you already.

It’s that time again. The Regional Assembly of Text hosts their monthly letter writing club the first Thursday of every month. No need to sign up ahead of time. Everyone welcome. No cost. Supplies (and yummy treats) provided.

I’ll be sad to miss it. Instead I’ll be accompanying my stepdad to a father & daughter dinner at the Vancouver Club.

Death Cab for Cutie (with the New Pornographers and Ra Ra Riot) hit Vancouver’s Pacific Coliseum on July 16.

The last time we saw them was in 2006 when I surprised Michael with two airplane and concert tix to see them in New York City. I’d be the first to snag seats for this show but I’m hesitating because I wonder how my then-eight-month-prego-body will manage in the Coliseum stands along with Vancouver’s trademark marijuana clouds.

High baby? Hmmm…

Vancouver, how I love thee. Let me count the ways…

1. Strolling through the ravine behind my house and running into Steve and his friend at Choices Market.
2. Visiting with a friend on a lovely outdoor patio and having a perfect stranger politely interrupt the conversation to mention he loved my idea for a story I’m developing about my fear of strollers. “They’re like hummers!” he exclaimed in front of his construction worker buddy. Yes, yes they are.
3. Running into an old colleague of my mom’s (now with the VAG) strolling along Broadway, just as I got off the #99 bus. Book recommendations exchanged. (Stanley Park is now next on my list.)
4. Exploring Granville Island in fantastic company (Aurora!) and running into three friends over the course of an afternoon. Paper-ya indulgences were not avoided. Also, made a new friend at Edible BC and discovered Backyard Beans. 
5. Friday night BBQs. Especially steak. 
6. Getting a free frappuccino/Vivanno/latte every time I’ve visited my neighbourhood Starbucks in the last two weeks.
7. Having rad friends BRING US a Greek dinner!
8. Running into Vicky, giving her feedback on her new website and discovering I have a friend who is an upholstery expert (among many other things)! 
9. Visiting with amazing friends, namely: Jenn, Avital, Miranda, Anneli, Marisa, and Laura…
10. Enjoying complimentary tickets to The Stanley — Les Miserables, tomorrow night.  

I am terribly disappointed to have missed the make it fashion, art & design market. My very own slice of London on Vancouver soil! Did anyone make it? (pun intended)

I hope there’s another coming soon…

Any other recommendations? Portobello or otherwise?