Went to see a play, “Tales of an Urban Indian” on Friday, and I still haven’t processed it enough to be able to write my reactions. Actually, I find that I am always very moved by theatre but cannot verbally respond or describe it. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, found it insightful. It’s not often enough that a person who has been marginalized can bravely stand up and tell their life story (or a story close to their own) with energy and humour. I recommend the play to anyone who gets a chance to see it. http://www.nativeearth.ca/talesof.html
What a weekend this has been, with 17C sunny weather. I washed the car and rode my bike all the way to Granville Island where I eavesdropped on the general public as part of my newly-reclaimed writer’s life. Had tea at my favourite place in the market, navigated the crowds, looked at art and the coveted moleskin notebook that I don’t need yet, watched a goofy man juggle flaming microphones, enjoyed the ocean air off of false creek, and walked my bike along the length of the drive, trying not to hit people with my pedal. And lost my new earring.
Tonight we shared another meal in community, and it tastes like I’ve finally found home.