Author: isobel cunningham
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Ah, here people will start to turn up their noses. This little piece is 2 blocs from my home. I always feel happy and safe when I see that orange glow and the little spaceship and the child? Hero? below. Some of the work which is as long as the house it is painted…
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My father used that phrase to describe the look of a person who didn’t quite believe what he was being told. It struck me that this elk as a rather old fashioned look. Today I went with two friends to Park Omega, a sort of wildlife park in Gatineau. One pays to…
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There are a lot of expectations tied up with the New Year. It is expected that people will spend time with family and friends, that people will have a lovely time. That one should “bring in” the New Year with some ceremony, toasts, good food and good wishes. Where do these expectations come…
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I came upon a stunning wall of graffiti a couple of years ago when I was visiting the Eco Center. It’s located in an industrial part of my pretty down- home neighbourhood. The Eco Center is facinating. Ours has us drive up a slope, a youngster in a booth checks our ID to be…
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Look what I see in the city around me. Not far from where I live I found this beautiful graffiti. Who does these things, I wonder? Are they commissioned or do people just show up and paint them. You’ll see more of these as I took other photos and will post on slow…
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Well, I struggled my way into changing blog pages into word documents and then into pdf documents and then I chose and fixed a few mistakes and threw out ones where the picture was too dark and put them in order and changed the order and. . . .ok you get it. …
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What a strange picture for Christmas Eve! I am posting it in utter relief at finding this contraption .An acquaintance lent it to me almost a year ago. It is a frame for doing rug hooking. I am rather inclined to “enthusiasms” and took up this very pleasant hobby but like so…
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I had heard this phrase but confess to not knowing what it meant. Having just listened to a CBC radio item on this ” toy” “surveillance agent”, call it what you will, I admit to a feeling of repugnance at the very idea. Doesn’t anybody distain tattle-tales any more? The…
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Night snow, as light as a floating white whale turning and drifting over the city. And in the white-sky morning light heavy as Moby Dick on the spiral steps of a hundred thousand Montreal walk-ups. Now, slide down, fall down, shuffle or wade around, bow boughs of great trees. Snow falls light as a word,…
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A shame it was a white sky day in Montreal…
