Cuban Gems

I loved Cuba. Loved it more than I thought I would. Loved it despite the heat. Loved it despite the lack of pubic transportation. Loved it despite the dirty and matted wild cats and dogs that roamed the streets in near death. I loved Cuba. I want to go back. I have finally put all my photos up on Flickr, but here are my absolute favorites.

Psst.. they're for sale too.

blue

blue, originally uploaded by jill y.

calling all creative types

This site needs a revamp. Know what I'm saying?? Seriously. The Coca Cola font need to go. I'm looking for mastheaders, blog creators, html'ers and all you in my homeotown of Edmonton to drop in and say hi. I see you.

love,
Jill

travels abroad

IMGP2073.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

We met when I was walking on my way to get a passport photo. He drove past me in a something or other that was not like the rest of the cars on the road. It was a Bronco or something. He was cool. I waved at him. I'd seen him around.

He lived in my neighborhood and we hung around the same bar, playing pool and shooting the shit. I'm not entirely sure what put us together. One day Alf just put his arm around me and that was that. Caveman style. But, strangely, we used to go for brunch with his parents and we both liked pea coats.

I stayed with him just before I left for Europe, borrowing a cashmere sweater. I remember coming back to his apartment with 5 grand in traveller's cheques and throwing them around in an odd excitement. I figure we dated for about 3-4 months before that and I went to the Heineken Brewery just for him.

One day he found the hostel number of where I had been living in Edinburgh and called the public phone. Someone got me and there he was calling from around the word to wish me a Happy Canada Day. It's that kind of thing that makes up for the tine I caught him in his robe with the dodgy girl next door.

But that was Alf.

Salty and Sweet. Like salt water taffy. I saw him walking towards me in a random crowd of Folk festers and was stuck on him again. We ended up meeting later and I snapped this.

And its too bad I didn't take a picture of us together.

IMGP2016.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

rhymes with heaven

back in the day, originally uploaded by jill y.

Back when I was about 17, I lived with my boyfriend. Earlier, we had met in a serendipitous manner by, believe it or not, by having a silent conversation from across a street. Punctuated by hand gestures, we connected and one of us crossed the street. That night we went for a walk long down Whyte Avenue to an abandoned slaughter house- our first "date". We explored and talked and laughed. His name was Evan and I could only remember it by remembering it rhymed with heaven. We were together from that point on.

One day we went to a tattoo parlor, on my suggestion, and had matching 8 petal daisies of yellow and green forever etched into our wrists. I still have mine. He covered up his. But back then we cold hold hands and our flowers would match.

On another day, I got an eviction notice from the rooming house I was living in and he invited me to live with him. Everyday he wrote me a note and taped a loonie to it. That was my bus fare to high school. I don't remember much of those days really. Of catching the bus and being in class and talking with friends. I remember being with Evan.

I remember when we broke up. When we cried and I yelled. When I slammed down the phone and when I burned all the letters. I had kept every one in a coffee can. I lite them all on fire and watched them turn to sooty ash in a the crisp white snow, turning to liquid around the corners of the can. And I remember the years he wouldn't talk to me despite my best efforts.

I'm really glad that 20 years later, we are friends again. I met up with Evan at the Edmonton Folk Festival and whatever it was that sparkled in his eyes the day I first met him, I saw it again and adored him still.

IMGP2080.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

visual feasting

Much quicker than my photos from Cuba (which aren't all up, mind you), I have posted all my photos from a recent trip to Edmonton.

You can see the Edmonton Photos here and the photos of Fort Edmonton here.

I hope you like them.

people caught in pictures dancing, always look like they are doing the zombie walk.

IMGP1952.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

Edmonton Folk Fest!!

fall down and get back up

I slipped up. Relapsed. Fell off the wagon. How many other euphemisms are there for fucked up? I wish I could say what it is that I messed up on but I can't. I can't write it here and I can say it to anyone either. It's just one of those things. It's like having a friend that's a secret drunk and they come to you and tell you that they drank again, but they vow to stop the next time and all you hear after a while are the excuses. And it's frustrating to watch. That's me, but I'm not a secret drunk.

So I can't tell anyone I fell off the wagon. I can't say how hurt and ashamed and remorseful I feel because it will go away and likely it will happen again. And I'll fool myself into thinking it doesn't matter. No amount of opening up will bring any sort of aid or support. But I had to tell someone. Say something.

I fucked up. I fell off the wagon. It hurts. I'm sad and full of regret.

Now I'll get myself back up, dust off my bloody knees and carry on.

Thanks for listening.

oil town

oil, originally uploaded by jill y.

a trip back in time

Today, me and my friend Tracy are going for a fierce ride. Likely 15 k to go back in time. We'll snake through downtown, across the High Level Bridge, over to the southside Farmer's Market, through the neighbourhood where I grew up, down one fierce hill and voila.. we'll be at Fort Edmonton.

I have adored Fort Edmonton in the past. I think it's been about 25 years since I have been there though. I have a sneaking suspicion that the Fort is partly to blame for my fascination with all things 1930's antique- which is really things left over from the turn of the century. Whatever it is, I enjoy the people in costumes, the old stores where you can buy rock candy, the hotel and restaurants and wood slat boardwalks.

vow

I took one to not eat meat for 30 days. In an unprovoked incident, I broke the vow within 36 hrs. Very unconsciously ordered blackened chicken at Dadeo's. It was an automatic gesture and I thank girth that I didn't choose the blackened chick po'boy (the choice of so many visits.)But it arrived and I started to eat and completely realized that I had taken a 'declaration' of sorts. I realized that me eating meat is may be an automatic, possibly desired, accidental occurrence.

Must be more diligent.

end of the road

IMGP1931.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

out in rural Alberta

My calf looks like a barely missed the grips of a grizzly bear and I could run with that story since I've been out in rural Alberta not minding my own business. But it's much more foolish than that. Nothing really, I stumbled, fell and graciously snagged a bike with my flesh.

(I would like to mention, with considerable blood appearing from my wound, 3 people walking down the street, gawked at me, made comments to themselves..."oh my gawd."-and kept walking!)

IMGP1941.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

Despite this minor injury, I endured numerous inclinations to incline towrds the top of Gallager Hill in search of choice vantage points. The Edmonton Folk Fest did get off to a rocky start but ended up being really sweet.

IMGP1954.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

currency

IMGP1857.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

Today I stood in the middle of my ill-spent youth.
By the hockey benches
and green grass rinks
where I smoked illicit cigarettes
after school
and played truth or dare with boys.

I walked down the alley's of my adolescence
and stole the sweet and tender young raspberries
from the bushes that defiantly taken root
on the wrong side of the fence.

Riding by a park,
I remembered the day when my friend told me
she lost her virginity in a hotel room
to a man she met in a bar.
We swung high on the swing sets,
our converse sneakers and feet dangling.
Kicking at the dust of our childhood
while we spent the shiny coins of our youth.

walking

walking with jill, originally uploaded by djkreutzer.

I came to visit Edmonton. To visit some old friends and find new ones.

Darlene and I know each other through our online presence. I can't exactly remember how it started. It may have been flickr, as I remember she had a photograph of an old friend. Well, however it began, we finally had an opportunity to meet. And she brought her fabulous husband as well.

A lovely time at the Sugarbowl for a light lunch and later a few Strongbow's and in between a walk around the University area. She snapped this photo and if you click on it, you'll find more of her generous talent.

It's one of my favorite photos of me. Thanks Darlene.

cheese

cheese, originally uploaded by jill y.

nuff said

men on the mind

IMGP1782.JPG, originally uploaded by jill y.

a cut above the rest

I took a wee journey while in London. I headed to Liberty's for mannequin photos, then headed down Regent St and over to Savile Row- which was rather boring. For some reason I thought it would be interesting but I only learned what the word bespoke meant:

2.British.

a.	(of clothes) made to individual order; custom-made: a bespoke jacket.

b.	making or selling such clothes: a bespoke tailor.

But cutting across Burlington Gardens and through the Burlington Arcade to Piccadilly and then Jermyn St in search of 200 year old Cheesemongers, I stumbled across Taylor of Old Bond St. Which was really exciting.

Ever since Michael bought a Safety Razor from Farfalla in Vancouver to avoid what he tenderly calls "land fill razors", I have been hooked. I adore the old school style, the class and permanency of the delicate little nickle plated unit. I snagged it from him and declared it my own as he didn't like the small handle.And so luckily for Michael, I found this lovely shaving shop and found him the long handled version. Now we're both gleefully portaging the plastic razors, packaging, and shitty quality of the entire shaving aisle in your local drugstore slash supermarket. Check out the link for Taylor's. You can buy them online.

One thing to note: we'll still go back to get our safety blades, which ironically continue to be sold, despite not having the safety razors.

Go figure.




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not exactly as planned

The 2nd half of my transcontinental journey has not gone exactly according to plan.

Just thought I'd mention that.

One one hand I've been slapped back to my senses thankfully with one too many Strongbow. Unfortunately, I made quite a fool of myself in the process. And wasted time and resources. Oh well, a lesson has been learned and no one was hurt.

On the other hand, the weather has not been very cooperative either. I clearly thought that I made a reservation with the sun for this week with brief visitations of lightning and thunder after 8pm. I don't think the weather got my memo. I'm a bit disappointed.

I do have my bike, I am in Edmonton and I look forward to seeing old friends and meeting new ones.

a return to the prairies

barbed wire1, originally uploaded by jill y.