A muggy afternoon, as predicted, one might say, by the choice of theme, which was interpreted variously by those who participated. Giovanna Riccio read two poems, one particularly memorable for its reference to "nice Italian girls" and how eager they were to enjoy "God's love." Celia Lottridge, recently returned from an awards ceremony in Austria, told us that she normally doesn't write poetry, but that the theme had reminded her of Kansas summers and hence inspired the poem she then read. Diane Bracuk entertained us with an essay on amber, a sample of which she was wearing as a pendant.
Theo Heras noted some curious entries in the dictionary under "hot" (hot cockles, for instance) and improvised a circle game on the sentence "That's hot, honey." Bernard Kelly and Gil Gauvreau both showed videos. Bernard's was entitled "heat (ice)" and starred, if that's the word, a mason jar full of ice cubes melting to the beat of Charles Trenet's song "Fidèle." 
Gil's had a three-part structure, the first part depicting an ailing radiator, the second a key scene from Body Heat, and the third a full-on summer rainstorm. Courtney Fairweather, though unable to attend, submitted a fiery photo [see below].Non-thematic contributions were also made, of course: Giovanna read several more poems.
Diane read the beginning of a short story, the principal character of which was a yoga instructor and the location a swimming pool. Bernard read the first half of a dramatic monologue very tentatively entitled "En camaïeu." (What that technique has to do with marital discord, Manhattan architects, and the town of Rimini the author, for one, is hoping will become clear in the next instalment.)In their own words:
Courtney Fairweather writes:
MOLTEN BRONZE: Walking around York University campus, I always gazed longingly through the two-storey glass wall of the sculpture studio. Thus, when I got the opportunity to become a student of the Visual Arts program, Foundry was the first course I signed up for.
The glowing cauldron of melting bronze and the ribbons of metal pouring into the moulds fascinated me. On the one hand, there was the shimmering beauty of this impossible liquid. On the other, there was the thrill of the danger. Dressed from head to toe in silver suits, only the professor and the technician were allowed to pour. One small move in the wrong direction, one tiny spill and a person could be incinerated.
Despite the danger, I was intrigued and one day when the cauldron was open, I approached. Before I could even press the shutter, I felt my skin begin to sear and my camera became hot. But I got my shot and then got out of the way … really fast.
Gil Gauvreau writes:
The interesting thing about photographing rain on a window pane using a telephoto lens is that it keeps the background in soft focus and as a result you get these abstract images. And with video they are constantly changing in an endless stream from frame to frame.
When being photographed, rain has to be backlit or it barely shows up.
Even a frame with the background completely out of focus displays isolated silvery patterns
1 comment:
Courtney's comment: I regret that I didn’t get to see Gil’s rain video. I haven’t considered water
in terms of texture before, but the three images look to me like textiles:
leather, sequined tulle, and creased satin.
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