Tuesday, October 28, 2008

First Snow/Run

Yes, it snowed in Ottawa this evening. Just as the sun was setting and I was getting up from a much needed nap -- filled with turbulent dreams spurred, no doubt, from my current read Three Day Road -- I saw the first flakes of the season.

And I was excited!

Weird, I know. But last year at this time I was in Hawaii, where Halloween wasn't the same and winter just meant wetness, no whiteness. When I finally arrived in Ottawa in January the snow was an assumed fact of life. And if we are going to make it through this season smiling or at least sane, we've got start it off with a bang, laughing and crying and knowing that winter in Ottawa is nuts.

So I ran.

Not far, mind you. But far enough to see some swirling leaf tornadoes and hear, through my iPod (yes, still needing musical motivation), a passerby whoop out a cackle at the oncoming storm. Long enough to smell woodsmoke. And fast enough to beat three yellow lights.

Bring it on.

Monday, October 27, 2008

It's been awhile ...

Me and my blog haven't spent too much time together lately. I've been busy with stuff in the 'real' world, most recently the Ottawa International Writers Festival.

So with all those writers around, my boyfriend asked me today 'have you thought about your blog? are you going to write in it again?'

My answer was yes, but first I have to run ...

Ahh. Much better. I"m hot under the collar but my senses are heightened after a 40 minute run to the canal and back home through the Glebe. Even found a patch of park I never knew aobut before.

Soon after I started I felt the baggage sway. My tummy, that is, up and down and up and down with every step, every bounce reminding me of late night beers and baked good mornings, of the Writers Fest that did a number on my usual, somewhat healthy, routine.

I was reminded of the physicality of writing in one of the sessions. Sonnet L'Abbe and Stephen Heighten, I believe. Anyway I know it was Sonnet -- who could forget a poet with a name like that -- who spoke of meditating, of bringing the words from a deep place within, of always trying to go, for lack of a better word, deeper.

My deep insides are hurting right now. I still have to do abs, and while the run felt good I have to admit I was using my iPod for extra motivation today so maybe I wasn't hearing my body cry out 'what's this? it's not beer or baked goods! you mean we [my legs, my gut, my will, etc.] still RUN?'

So I have to go attend to those parts and drink water and generally fuel the machine I plan on putting to good use over the next few months and years. 'Cause I do believe n the physicality of writing, but I can't expect much from a physical self existing off of beer and baked goods.