Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Ingrid


Ingrid on the street talking about male equipment. Men can pee way easier than women.

I like it that she points when she talks. She has many important points to make.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Silken poem

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

silken, soft men
whose trunks
move along the street for them.

their tiny paws are vulnerable,
so sometimes they glove them,

their pinks corrode
under this gaze.


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

Copyright 2005 Catherine Moran.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Windows aglow with fake blood and panties...

This art window had a lot of fake blood sprayed on the inside of the windows and old panties hung on washing lines with various ages posted beside them. The lady inside did a lot of writhing about. It also had many leaves stuck in it. These are my bestest friends Ingrid and Xochitl looking away from it, as one should...

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Magazine Ladies


These ladies were covered in cut up magazines. They would read them and then do lady-like things like apply face powder or refill sugar jars. They were both funny and creepy.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Queen West Red Light project



These are photos from the Queen West Art Fair's Red Light Project which was performance art along Queen street, taking place in different windows. This one was my favourite. This man wrote a long story backwards for an hour and a half. The best part was the story was really good. It was very well written. It was first person, about girls and women and how he got into S & M. Wow! Impressive work.

Touchless

Here's a poem I wrote -

Touchless

These lonely arms
Feel like phantom limbs
Without you.

There are only
Wooden bodies everywhere
That cannot be made soft
By these God-damned
Loving hands.

-----
Copyright 2005
Catherine Moran.

Friday, September 16, 2005

The Love of Tiny


Look - some people love tiny so much they even quilt it.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Beautiful Northcote Backyard


These are my good friends N and L in their backyard. I used to live with them in a shared house and, Boy! Do I miss having a backyard. In the summer, the trees grow huge, and green and fall generously over the table. When you're sitting out there it feels like a safe, warm cocoon. The Japanese maple sits in the shade, radiant and auburn, the ferns stretch out their leaves, as if waiting for a touch. Snails slowly slide from one green thing to the next. It seems, people can sit in that yard and talk forever. Time waits for us. I miss them... even though I still see them. It seems any time you make a change, living arrangements, relationships... etc., there's often some pang of regret. They are such good good people and every time I see them I feel thankful for having somewhat haphazardly, fallen into their lives. Thank God they were gracious and loving and kind, and let me live there while I completely unravelled and then, somehow, came back together and took off again in another direction. They are smart as fuck and as funny and caring as the best people you'll ever know. Sometimes you can keep friends, even after they really know you.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

End of the Cottage Season

The best things about summer in Northern Canada are only possible in the summer. Escaping far up north to the cottage where the trees never stop and the smell of living things is pungent in the air. The way the sun hits the various leaves of various trees and the sound of the loons on the lake. I am so fortunate to have a piece of this, through my boyfriend Mathew and his family. It has made our summer absolutely wonderful. If it weren't for that refuge, I don't know what we'd do with this concrete excuse for a city. Living right downtown and working there makes it hard to see beyond it, without something else...

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Pink Tar Bulb


Pink as a start, is a good place to start. It connotes prettiness and sexiness. I think this piece is pretty sexy. Fall bulb breaks through tar. How symbolic.

Fall is in the air.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Library of Old


Here's the Kind of library I wished I worked in. It must be quiet there. Mmmm....