The Seated View

Last Thursday, The Boy and I went to Chris Hadfield’s Generator in Toronto. David had asked me whether I wanted to stay home, given the news about my dear friend Laurie , but I said no, let’s go. If anything, she taught me about saying yes as much is possible and living with a capital L.  Off we went on a rainy night in the city. Which, quite frankly, was a wonderful break from the deep-freeze. We took the streetcar to Roy Thomson Hall (by the way, accessible streetcars have made my life so much easier. If only they were on more routes). And then we settled into our seats, not quite knowing what to expect. Other than the host and the house band, we didn’t know who would be there or what they would talk about. It turns out that the theme of the evening was Art Based in Joy. There was a comedian, a YouTube experimental musician , a space archaeologist presenting a new and exciting project where all of us can help identify archaeological sites before they get...

Photo by David Govoni It was Scatterlings that hooked me. I was in first year university at the U of T Scarborough campus, moving from one class to another, when I first heard the unmistakable joyful beat of a Johnny Clegg song, this one from his first group Juluka. Fairly soon after that, I bought the album. Campus radio was a great place to get exposed to all kinds of different music and it introduced me to what became known as World Music, one of my favourite genres. It tapped me into a music scene I’d otherwise not be aware of and I’m pretty sure this was also where I heard about Juluka coming to Toronto. I promptly got tickets to that concert at Massey Hall. It was also the first time I asked a boy out. The date part was decidedly uninspired, but the music lit a fire in me. That evening in 1983 was the start of a (so far) 34 year love affair with Johnny Clegg’s music. It started with Juluka — I have all their albums, even the very early ones that a...

I'm so glad to be here. I wanted to write something for today. One year ago, on March 30, 2016, things went south after I was extubated , I flatlined, but through some highly skilled intervention, I survived. That is one hell of a miraculous gift. Although I am normally full of words about the experience, the aftermath,, and all the feels involved, I find myself  oddly speechless on this, my first Zombie Birthday. All I know is that I am so grateful. So instead of writing a whole lot of words basically e xpressing that I don't know what to say, I thought I'd instead share some photos from the past year. Life. Isn't it wonderful? And this... well. It's my Zombie Birthday, after all. I had to. Thanks, Alex.  

It was a fairly dismal March day — cloudy, with tiny pellets of snow pelting my face as we walked west. We were in need of adventure, but uncertain what kind, so decided to pick a direction and see what happened. Union Station loomed ahead and since neither The Boy or I could remember when we were last there, we went to explore and look at trains. It was ComiCon weekend, so we happened upon cosplayers in a variety of costumes, from homemade to elaborately beautiful. There were also a superhero or two. Oddly enough. (click photos to embiggen. All photos in which yours truly appear are © David Govoni ) And then we were on the ground between the aquarium and the CN Tower . Looking up, it was impossible to see the bubble where everything happens — the observation deck, the glass floor, and so on. So naturally, we went up. As we bought our tickets, the teller made sure that we understood there was zero visibility. “We know,” we said. “That’s why we’re going!” ...