Oct 28th 2007

BIG NEWS: I just changed the lightbulb in my room (driven batty by a 40 watt bulb I installed an energy efficient bulb that’s supposed to last for 8 years and discovered, whilst balancing on a rotating desk chair) that lightbulbs here aren’t threaded… I’m now enjoying 100 watts, as the days get greyer I may have to buy another light!

Overall, the 'I'm in Wales' dance of joy feeling hasn't left me yet, although there have been mild bouts of homesickness... mostly missing my dog and my studio supplies -it's tough to pull things together from scratch on a budget, but a good test to see what I REALLY need to paint with.

The university department is great, small, intimate, but large enough to have that creative buzz.

Since school’s been in session for a month some of the other students are actually starting to move into their studio spaces so I sometimes have company!

One of my supervisors bought me a drink after a school art opening which included a show of prints and art purchased on eBay for as little as 3 pounds, which include some Hockneys a Goya (gargoyles clipping their toenails! - I go to visit it every day) and a real Reubens… right on the way in front of me…. and only one cctv camera in the room!.... erm, just looking, really! Actually, if I could choose one to own it would have to be the Goya gargoyles!

Halloween is still a new concept around here and still back in the protozoan format of girls dress like sluts (although that seems to be the theme with the first year students EVERY weekend)… I missed the parade of Lost Souls! I had a sudden craving to get up on stilts… which I WON’T be doing here, even if I did just get my National Health Services card in the mail.

There's a stomach flu going around in the residence (there's always some illness going around, I'm turning into Mr. Burns) so now I'm not touching anything and just ate 2 cloves of garlic with dinner.

We failed our residence hygiene inspection #1 and passed on #2

I'm doing my part but refuse to become everyone's mother/personal cleaner

My computer is acting funny and I don't understand PCs! Last week it started beeping and then shut itself down... the battery won’t recharge. So I took it out. Now the computer mostly works, except when it randomly loses power as though the electricity was cut –and I don’t jostle or move the thing it just goes off. Very quickly. I priced out a new power adaptor … at 49 pounds it’s not in the budget. Maybe the connections between the computer brain and power source are not connecting properly? I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem to be an OS problem…. definitely something to do with the power supply.


I'm not missing the Bowen Island ferry!!!!! And I’m not missing having a car. Anyone know if the blue Taurus is still running?


Some things I’ve noticed around Aber:

Smokers! I didn’t realize smoking was still so fashionable, not just men, but (young) women. The stone gutters fill with cigarette butts, I could string them on fishing line and use the to decorate the rails of the Seafront, or turn them into jewelry, except I’ve never been a fan of that sort of obvious ‘art statement’ except when done particularly well, which as I was bored with the idea 2 seconds after having it, I would more than likely fail at it… I could collect them all and create a Butt Pyramid.


Willowy women take on a whole new meaning over here! Never have I seen so many tall willowy women (six foot plus!) who are thin, elongated and lovely. What I don’t see is their male counterpart. There aren’t very many tall men that I have spotted. And still, none wearing kilts except on my oatmeal box.

Sheep really do dot the hillside, they don't roam in flocks.

The sheep here used to be radioactive after Chernobyl. Perhaps that's why they're all startlingly white.

There are some ‘interesting’ characters about, which is nice. I enjoy spotting the Goths and punks of Aber (there are more mohawks and tribal hair cuts in town than in Vancouver!)

And then there's general people watching:

The young, lovely woman in the wheel chair with her baby on her lap, wheeling down Main Street.

The ginger male with a long mullet.

The girls who have short mullets.

The man who dresses in a laced up full length leather trench coat.

The 6’6” tall man with four foot shoulders and 12” hips, his arms so built up from bodybuilding that his elbows were over eight inches away from his sides and seemed incapable of relaxing. He was swinging his rather large arms around in exaggerated shoulder rolls, lifting his shirt up high and showing off the top of his boxer shorts. I crossed the street, partially to give him room a sit was early morning and we were walking at the same pace and there was no need to crowd! He crossed the street, seemingly oblivious to everything and was again in front of me. Nothing unusual, he looked like your ordinary, extra ordinary tough. And then he began to sing, not in a: I’m going to belt out a tune now way, just in a personal, there’s a song in my heart sort of way. Being that I’ve been known to burst into song on the street occasionally I appreciated hearing snippets of his song. And that his voice was so… I don’t want to say delicate, but it was emotive, as though he cared about the words and what lay behind them (as they were Wlesh I can only guess at their profundity). As he turned to head up a side street I noted that his feet were completely turned out as he walked, as though stuck in (2nd?) position in ballet.


Discovering I may be one of the eccentrics of Aber:

I was taking photos of the rose tree which is my thorny Punctum (thanks Barthes) beside the old stone house. Feeling like I was trespassing (as I was) in the neighbor’s driveway, just a little, camera out. Trying not to be noticed. Took 2 quick snaps and then as I was about to back away there was an old man behind me on the walkway, stooped, using a cane. “I hope you’re going to buy it.” Says he.

“I wish I could.” I replied lightly, more because I’d like to own a home, not necessarily this one in particular, although I do like the Welsh stone buildings... I'm not planning on staying here!

“It’s been empty for years, it’s for sale. It needs some one to live in it.” The old man admonished, as though ‘what was I waiting for?!

“It has a beautiful rose on the side of the building.” I said.

“That too. You should buy it.” The man said, and then he was off, moving more sprightly with his cane than one would suspect.

I walked home toying with notions of houses, what I want/need in a home. I stopped in the window of the local real estate building to see what prices are like in this town. Not that a house with a rose on the busiest street in town would be my first choice, but I was curious. 150,000 pounds and up... about the same as Bowen, perhaps not quite as inflated.

I’ve been told that people either love Aber or they go stir-crazy and leave or it casts a spell over some people and then they can’t leave.

I don’t think I’m likely to go stir-crazy, nor have I been bespelled, not like I was in Annapolis Royal in Nova Scotia. But I like it here.


Last night I went to an India dance Wales show called Kalidasa. A 2 hour performance put on by a small dance troupe, only one male, more than compensated by having the energy of five men and with his red painted eyelids, curlicues on the side of his face and his ability to leap up in the air and hang there for longer than the average mortal should be able to he was quite impressive. The performers were gorgeous yet all were quite atypical of the Western perception of beauty.

The show was quite incredible. They all danced like living statues. Every element either poised, lively or, incredibly: both. Every feature was controlled, whether in holding a pose involving complex balance, dancing on brass bowls, or moving eyes, eyebrows, etc. Sometimes the facial movement seemed a bit comical, initially, but really quite an extraordinary display of mastery of gaze, every facial feature, hand positions, costume movement…

At one point the lead male turned his back to the audience, and I thought that he had been dusted with a diamond glitter makeup, but it was perfect pearls of sweat catching the light and sparkling like a constellation of effort.

The women with their dyed fingertips appeared to move their hands like water or wings at one point… lovely. The costumes were lavish and flattering. I found it interesting that the only male in the story (not played by a female) was bare-torso for almost the entirety of the evening. At points he seemed vulnerable to our gaze, and then after a time it just seemed natural. The women were modestly attired; their sensuality was in their dance and grace. There was no cliché belly dance at all.

I could basically follow the storyline, even without the poetical English translation provided.

I liked the line that light is the true heart of darkness. When you think about the ratio of light to dark out in the universe the poetical notion has a cogent visual metaphor of celestial proportion!

I quite liked the costume/traditional clothes they wore (although because of their colour etc. I think costume is the correct word) particularly the practicality of all the folds in the front of the skirt and the pants made sense after seeing them in motion, and the freedom and range of movement permitted in conjunction with clever modesty being maintained.

I also rather liked that the sets of bells they wore around their ankles were mostly held in place by large leather straps so that when they spun around they rather looked a great deal like heavy bondage cuffs. They all wore them. Of course I want a pair now… to Morris dance in.

It’s Sunday again. Last Sunday I walked up Pen Dinas (a hill that might be called a mountain locally) with Vilborg. There was a little hole in the base of the war memorial at the top. I thought it a good place for treasure… but there was nothing inside… so I decided treasure was required. There’s now something hidden up there… at the base of the memorial… don’t stick your hands down the badger holes!!!

This Sunday I tried in vain to find a café that was open. Nada. Zilch. Pas de café culture on a Sunday. .. So I went to the castle ruins and played around with the timer on my camera and then made my way home through the storm winds to update my blog. And here we are.

Ta ra!
That’s it for now.

HAX