Too much, and too often - August 12th, 2008

Forgive me beforehand, as I will begin, I think, too indulge perhaps too much in the following...

One week, more or less, in the arms of the West, and I am emptied.

Too tired to be a guest, dirty and worn for the show, I feel like I am nearing the end of my capacity for reunion. Every day forms the complicated and electrified bonding of wires between old friends and expectations, something universally difficult, understandable, and nevertheless painful.

I am seeing again all the walks of life from my past, especially as they have convalesced in this hub of humanity, Vancouver, feeling as if the curse of Christmas Specials have descended upon me, "No more Miracles!"

I guess I get it now. No one should have to, or opt, to walk their own past, to feel the streets not as living or faded, but vibrant and twisting, to see friends not in photos, frozen, nor alive and painted, but instead amongst the celluloid carousal of blurred emotion. I know I'm not being clear, I suppose that's the point of catharsis, but maybe it's clearer than I'm making it. It is the normal turning of the tide for us to see the past ebb away, made clearer and more potent as it pulls farther and farther to the horizon. Through this process we see our pain, and promise, draw crisp against the remaining sea, while our minds stay firm amongst the beating waves of today.

Here in this city I have reconnected with so many of my most intense friends, day after day, in a process I can only only recommend as grueling. So I have drawn up the distant waters and pulled them against the tide to this grainy beach, the fearsome fisher, petrified with what reflection I would find.

And I have seen my friendships lasting, and fierce, but in so doing, have walked the wearied paths of my past as they still live. Hence, the vibrant and furious presence of all that which is supposed to remain distant. It is the proximity which is the pain.

Yet, of course, the passion is the point, and in the rolling tide of this re-developed friendships are found the same pleasures, made anew, and with a new host of promise.

So tired...

I leave Vancouver tomorrow at 6pm, and I'll be home Thursday morning. To home.

-N

Bees, and busy like them - August 5th,2008

Greetings everybody from the usual utopic glow of Vancouver. I had somehow forgotten the myriad methods of falling in love with this city, even amongst the diatribes and palpatations of my praise.

After a week or so here of idlyic bliss it's time to go, or at least stop living as a guest for a time, and get home. I'm looking to leave here probably Wednesday, then I'll be home for a good chunk, followed by a road trip to LA early September, and then flying to Toronto for a few days before arriving in London for the fifteenth. I don't know about you guys, but I just can't wait to finally experience the famous clear skies and sunny disposition of the British People.

Alright, I'm going back to the activism and coffee shops of Van for one more day, I'll catch up with you all later.

Nick

The old and the new - August 2nd, 2008

Well,

looks like instead of some drawling and longish prose about Bolivia, heartbreak, and the end of an era, it seems life just hasn't stopped long enough for retrospection.

I flew into Los Angeles this morning, (Spanish still remaining the dominant form of expression in my mind), on a mission to meet my sister, Lisa, for the first time in my life. Lisa is my half-sister and we share the same dad, which I guess dooms us both, but she's over twenty years older than me and the curls of our lives and family have seemed to keep us apart until now. As well, with the incredible addition of her daughter, and my niece, Sierra into the world a few weeks ago, the timing was more than perfect for our first hello.

I somehow have already slipped into my long-awaited deadbeat brother role by surprising my sister with a phonecall from the airport announcing my arrival, and our subsequent rendevous resplendant with all my South American body odors. Claaassy. And now at the end of our first, and wonderful, day I'm saturated with the overwhelming Familialness of it all.

I guess that how it happens to us all, one day you're shrugging it all off, and the next, you're somehow the guy giving the advice and talking about birth weight. I dunno how, maybe nobody sees it coming.

I'm on a plane to Vancouver in the next hour, so I suppose, that's that. See you all soon.

Oh, and here's my niece:

Ciao,
Nick




p.s. Oh, and on a very non-baby note, there are peacocks in the trees here. Do you hear me? Crazy.