a few things at the market

i love shopping at the farmers market just a block away from us. fresh berries, garlic greens locally made yogurt, fresh herbs and two more tomatoes plants one for dylan and the other for elle. I love how slowly the tables fill from spring greens to early summer berries and each week more color and textures are added. we are so lucky aren't we, i have been watching and reading allot more about the great depression, k and i talked about last night and how grey and grim it must have been then and how it must be for so many today. we have changed so much in our home to accommodate financial changes, but even when we feel a pinch we know we are no where near the struggles that people face.

la vita

this weekend was quiet. i spent it at home with my dogs
and a couple of good conversation at the cafe. There was movies; la dolce vita and another game idea came to mind (sometime this week). there was reading hemingway in bed while sophie lay her head on my chest..sometime i think sophie makes it possible to say heaven on earth. there was also lots of thought about life and how we take turns that get us where we are but what if the turns you took were different, perhaps the destination would be the same but the journey... k and i talked about travel and how we miss the mountains. I am getting the house ready for the kids-to spend the summer( niece and nephew) and my trip to montreal next week to pick them up and enjoy a bit of the montreal jazz festival with my mum. we ended the weekend with k putting in a river runs through it on the tele, he looked at me and said this movie is going to make you want to move and i replied i was born wanting to move....

* i am at the cafe right now and a song from la dolce vita just came on:)

happy accidents

well the sun is having trouble coming out and staying.
trying to take pictures with natural light the only way i like has been trying. even in some mistakes i seem to find something pretty about them. i am thinking of weekends and the plans we make and how sometimes things change, but even in these changes there can lie beauty don't you think..

singing and dancing

yesterday an impromptu evening walk with a friend, a late night mocha and to our surprise a giant outdoor screen of willy wonka and the chocolate factory ( the original of course).
yes i know perfect!

but also this thought

i am glad that i do not have television, well channels. i would not want to see all commentary on his death, speculation, finger pointing, people who want a minute of fame. so this post is on what i know;

you made me want to dance a whole lot. you made me want to sing all the time even being tone deaf like i am. you had me begging my mum to stay up late on weekdays to see you perform one of your magical moves and i spent hours the next day practicing with friends and hell yes i can do the moon walk! i watched your videos and they were artistic inspiration- visionary work.

i can not imagine your childhood. we have seen that it must not have been easy and i wonder where was that one person telling you that you were great for who you are, not what you can do. i wonder if your mother ever read you a story in bed. if you had to perform even when you were feeling sick as a boy. did you attend school and make friends of your very own and use tiny scissors to cut colorful paper. i think about your self esteem being a number and how much you must have disliked yourself so much to want to change every single thing about you, i wonder how money and fame hungry were these surgeons that did this damaging work to you. I wonder if you felt real love and had butterflies in your belly. now i do not know what is true and untrue about the things that would make you a monster, i hope not micheal. i hope not. but if it is so i am so sorry for everyone and wonder if you can still make it better in heaven stop the cycle kind a thing. that you did not find peace in your future makes me sad. because when i remember my youth, teenage years there is happiness, singing, being zombies on the front lawn.


thank you for that. now rest and find that peace.

bakery part deux!

i just can't get enough of tatte bakery in boston. sheila and i headed there last saturday. she had a pear tart with a cappuccino and i had a halva brioche with espresso over ice! a waitresse's last day and the other one wearing cutest plaid dress and apron! i also fell in love with the bird that seemed to shout where is my hazelnut and rose brioche!

* play the post bellow!

Nadia n' aime pas....

Sunday night after a few hours spent tending the garden i came into the house washed up and decided to put Amelie in the dvd player. Can i just say every-time i watch it i get more and more in love with it's brilliance. I relate to it so much, each time seeing more similarities!

So this time while watching it, this is where i will need you to focus and try to remember. In the beginning the narrator tells us what amelie and each character he introduces dislike and likes. do you remember? example her dad does not like how is bathing suits sticks on him as he come out of the pool or how her mum loves cleaning out her purse and placing everything back in or how amelie likes putting her hand in sacs of grain and collecting stones. so here is my thought let's play along how about we name five things we dislike and five things we like now this is what is most important keep it tight what i mean by that not big things but the everyday little things here i'll show you..

Nadia n'aime pas

the sound of telephone ringing
small shavings left by the sink by k.
when someone wears perfume enough for me and everyone else
the smell of tuna cans in the kitchen sink
honking cars in front of the house

nadia aime

the smell of fresh ground espresso beans
laying the vegetables i bought from the farmers market on the farm table
the crunchy pasta and the bottom of the pan
hiding and scaring my husband
folding laundry


Oh will you play along ?
nadia aime pas quand vous jouer pas:)

needle and thread

It is tuesday yes it is. I do hope you guys have amelie freshon the brain because tomorrow we shall play a little game! a few shots from my studio and more here

Oh and i loved our stroll yesterday too! shall we do it again soon?

shall we

go for a stroll down this quiet neighborhood, yes it is drizzling a bit but i think we will be okay. so how was your weekend? did you accomplish much on your list, did you have a list. i am good, i worked in the garden for hours it felt great then i watched amelie and i have this idea i will share it with you when i work out the details..did you watch anything? i am glad you are strolling with me, oh those roses how lovely what is your favorite flower... shall we walk to the bakery does that sound good what will you get?

* dear swap friends can you email me saying if you sent your package?

dad

When thinking about a fathers day post,i traveled through memory lane for a long while and arrived here. I was young i had just moved to old montreal where i had found a fantastic loft in a run down building. the building was divided in floors; first floors the sculptures, second floor the chefs from a wonderful vegetarian restaurants the third floor the musician and then my floor the photographers( although i could hardly call my self one at the time). The building was most likely not to code. Somehow my father would drive up from the west island everyday to visit "hang out" he was not much into the arts yet he would come into the loft and look at the paintings on the wall, he would chat with others. After a while i started realizing that he might have been worrying about me in my new place.

I did not have a lot of money at the time and would play the tams( african drums) in assigned musicians area's of the metro (subway) and the money i collected then would go straight to buying film, yes film was not cheap and since i was not very good at it, it took a lot of film. My father would bring bread mostly in a plastic bag and almost every time at the bottom of the bag i would find money, he never handed it to me just left it there for me to find and use. I remember a lot of my loft days in montreal, like learning the drums with some very talented drummers from around the world as well as african dance, listening to santana, eating the best vegan meals by candle light prepared by great chefs and the hand made sign that i still have till this day that i had on my door "the art of life" but my favorite memory of all must be the little while that my father looked out for me. Oh and that father who was not to into the arts is an artist now who's work has been exhibited in canadian museums...

* the pictures are taken at "the life is good children's festival" in boston yesterday