Владимир Семенович Высоцкий

four years before i was born, Vysotsky died and left behind him the fabric of a changed land; a changed generation

my dad emailed me to say "it's 33 years since his death" and i felt the tides of life return to the moment i first heard his voice

RIP, our Achilles

...

Я при жизни был рослым и стройным,
Не боялся ни слова, ни пули
И в привычные рамки не лез,-
Но с тех пор, как считаюсь покойным,
Охромили меня и согнули,
К пьедесталу прибив "Ахиллес"

عزیزم

تولدت مبارک
wishing all the best

our little monkey
light of our lives
is 7.

may she always be young at heart and warm our own with her presence

f's phrases

... of many months

shortly after having some weed:
i'm going to be pretty cute in a few minutes

on philip seymour hoffman:
in half of his movies he's not wearing pants

on the term "professionalism":
they mean, how to be a proficient ass

here, which we found together

here we raised our dooneh, together. here we brought your sisters and expanded our family. here maryam sat, for months, inside her portfolio. here parvaneh began her million-and-one hobbies. here our little monkey became a little monkey. here we heard about your father's accident. here we wept. here we battled our obnoxious, juvenile, loud-ass neighbours. here i saw a monster cicada hanging on the window screen. here i broke various objects of sentimental value. here i learned that we don't always have to call a plumber. here we fondly remembered beautiful Eglinton, where we met. here we watched epic marathons of lord of the rings, six feet under, game of thrones (I). here we ate ice cream on the balcony to avoid the monkey's protests. here, where on every wall and door the same monkey etched strategically-placed scratch marks to protect us from coyotes.

here we were snuglous. here we read Pooh.

home is any place where the three of us are...
but i will really miss this one

"there haven't been any publications since god-knows-when...

...and that's a 'phrase of the day' by itself"

جان دلم...

...

i think...

i think i heard a russian folk tune played on a steelpan this morning..

...

i, myself, am not gay. but i do share my life... my heart... with a same-sex partner. and while we ourselves don't support the institution of marriage (as anything more than a legal contract)--and despite the fact that gay marriage has been legal in canada for quite some time--i wept as if it were a personal matter when i heard about the striking down of DOMA

i thought of my parents, too, and wondered how they felt

some time ago, we jokingly suggested moving to spain, getting married, and buying a villa. my dad's question was not "why married?" as i expected.

it was "why spain?"

for now..

i guess i'm using the old reader, google+ and feedly...

how can i say this... how so much has changed in so short a time
how i still expect, even now, to wake from this terrible silent dream
how i wish i could find the nerve to call

presented by...

my beautiful sister and brother-in-law--not their first collaboration, but their first official staging:

Something Is Wrong
Naught, A Theatre Company

We are thrilled to invite you to Naught, A Theatre Company's first production--Something Is Wrong--written and directed by William Rasitsan-Powell and co-produced with Beata Rasitsan-Powell.

-----------------------------

Something is Wrong begins with a Chorus of men and women, drawing inspiration from classical Greek theatre. The Chorus is possessed by a terrible feeling that.... something is wrong:

What is it?
What is wrong?
What is something?
What is is?
We don't know.
We haven't got a clue.

These questions prove to be too much for the Chorus, who decide that they must have been mistaken; that nothing is wrong; that they should go home and stop worrying. All of them--except one, that is: Thespis, who refuses to admit that nothing is wrong. It is Thespis's determination to continue searching for answers that propels the play.

On the journey we meet Daemon, the Chorus's protector from the pesky Thespis, and Iris, a magnetic spirit who is intrigued and mystified by the whole situation. We travel to a cottage, through the desert, and to a Chinese tea-house, in the search for what, if anything, is wrong, and what, if anything, can be done.

The piece integrates poetic text, movement, and dance in order to take the audience through the mysterious setting.

Naught Theatre is dedicated to creating innovative and experimental theatre, and we are excited that our first production propels us swiftly in that direction!

-----------------------------

Showtimes are as follows:

July 31, 2013 (Opening Night): 8pm

August 1, 2013: 8pm
August 2, 2013: 8pm
August 3, 2013 (Closing Night): Matinee at 2pm and evening show at 8pm

The location is the Pia Bouman Theatre at 6 Noble St., Toronto, ON. The closest major intersection is Queen W. and Dufferin St.

Reserve your tickets now by emailing naughttheatre@gmail.com and pick them up at the box office!

Hope to see you there.

Sincerely,

Naught, A Theatre Company

word of the day: bafflegab

انتخاب

immensely touched by the number of young people we saw at the voting booth on friday..

"So much held in a heart in a lifetime..."

Joyas Volardores by Brian Doyle

unbelievably beautiful

a lesson in judgment

i distinctly remember one of my most brilliant classmates--an unexpected assortment of baseball hats, muscle and tattoos--and the ways in which he broke stereotype on every level

my mother is the epitome of the changes that can stem from "knowing someone"

now she sends me articles about the LGBT community in Russia
it's quite touching

... a devastating dream over the weekend that our baby, who has long passed, was full of ticks (although in the dream, bizarrely, they appeared as tiny winged creatures; something akin to flying ants). i stood him in a bowl of water, with his head exposed, and the insects began to climb out over the bowl, onto me..

he stood there, calmly, waiting for it all to pass -- exactly the opposite of anything he would have done in reality

i awoke in a panic, googled instructions for removing ticks, and minutes later, dreamt that i told you all about this

how can i explain the feeling that i'm gone from your life.. that you don't know it, perhaps, but i do

between a devastating BBC report on Syrian refugees in Turkey and the horror i read this morning--

Nicholas Schmidle: Are Kosovo’s Leaders Guilty of War Crimes? : The New Yorker

--it's hard to imagine how our lives go on

i'm not sure how to explain my reluctance to see argo. perhaps my problem has to do with timing..
filmmakers are not politicians, of course, and the movie had been in production for some time--but i can't get past the unpleasant feeling that its release capitalizes on and possibly worsens an already terrible situation