Under the Threat of Rain

12 November 2024 – It’s definitely a leaden sky up there, but down here there’s lots to look at. Plus there’s a rain jacket in my backpack. I am equipped.

Colours pop against all that grey.

Bright autumn leaves snagged in a still glowing shrub…

seed pods tawny against yellowing foliage…

seed pods cascading from their vines…

and a small tree, starkly elegant against its stone & brick backdrop…

all of them my companions, as I walk my way north down Scotia Street, flanking the east wall of…

the Brewery Creek Building.

Not its original name! Even “Fell’s Candy Factory,” still visible above the brass lettering, is not the original name.

Built c. 1904 as a storage cellar for Vancouver Brewery Ltd., this building was later (among other things) a candy factory, a creamery, a grease works and a stucco manufacturing plant before the restoration and renovations that, in 1993…

transformed it into a collection of live/work condos in a Class A heritage building.

New-builds are now springing up all around. It more than holds its own.

Though I like some of the sassy newcomers.

Especially ones that prove modest building materials can also hold their own — when deployed with bold colour and strong, clean lines.

And this is the back-alley view!

A bit farther north, I’m still caught up in the old/new mix that is Mount Pleasant these days. Low vintage buildings and early (2017 or so) Vancouver Mural Festival artworks mark East 3rd and the alley just off Main Street..

but behind them to the south rises one of the sleek new eco-conscious work facilities that are now reshaping the area, East 5th in particular.

I’m headed in the opposite direction, north & west to the east end of False Creek. My route takes me past Mountain Equipment now-American-Company-not-Canadian-Coop. I consciously Don’t Go There; I instead enjoy the exterior of this mass timber building. Including the corvine slogan under one pillar’s footing…

and droplets sliding down the water course built into the Quebec Street façade.

You see? It has rained, it will rain, but at the moment, it is not — not quite — raining.

I’m closing in on False Creek…

but it’s not the geodesic dome of Science World that catches my eye. it’s the runaway red balloon down there against the railing.

And then I forget all about the red balloon.

I can hear chimes & gongs & cymbals & whistles, and I know how to interpret them. They tell me that the glass tower by the Science World entrance, sadly silent during a long restoration, is once again in glorious, ridiculous, delightful, full-tilt operation. It has no name that I can find, but if ever any 2024 contraption deserved the name Rube Goldberg Machine — this is it.

Things clank, whiz, fly around, spiral and drop, tip and tilt, climb and do it again. A woman grins at me over her children’s heads. “The kids are the excuse. I could stand here all day.” I nod.

But we eventually move on …

I, past the reclining question-mark outside Science World’s creek-facing west wall that invites us to consider our daily choices, all of which affect the environment.

Question-mark nicely suits what happens next. I find myself in an impromptu focus group of SeaWall pedestrians — diversified in our demographics, but united in our conclusion.

Despite much conjecture among us, we remain puzzled. Goose? Swan? We settle for Very Large Waterfowl. We also agree that he/she is gliding over a sunken boat (the hull gleams greenish-white, the mast protrudes). Pleased with ourselves and each other, we go our various ways.

By the time I reach my Cambie Bridge cross-over point, the threat-of-rain has become really-rain.

I stand under bridge ramparts, exchange forecasts with a guy also pawing his backpack for a jacket, and watch a young woman toss her red umbrella aside so she can kick up her heels on one of the playground swings.

Jacketed & be-hatted, all zippered up, I climb my way up onto the bridge and head out over the water. I am so charmed by this graffito on the railing…

that I stand here until a ferry obligingly comes along, to include in the picture. (The wait gives me time to compile a Glad They Exist list, ferries being just one item. I find it a helpful exercise, very soothing, a counterbalance to all that I wish did not exist.)

And then I put the camera away, because, good grief, this is now serious rain.

And I then I take it out again, one last time.

Here at West 8th & Yukon, a living demonstration of the slogan back there under the MEC pillar.

Crows know! This crow knows he is very wet. And he is telling us all about it.

Tributes

5 October 2024 – A theme that has unexpectedly imposed itself, and yes in places it’s a bit of a stretch, but you’ll work with me on this, won’t you?

First up, a photo from a few days ago, taken not with any tribute in mind, but simply as a cityscape moment: the dome of a heritage building against a lowering sky, framed by tram wires and traffic lights.

But I can pull it into the tribute theme. It is a tribute (A) to the Carnegie Foundation capital grants that sparked the creation of public libraries all over the world, including, in 1903, this one at Main & East Hastings in Vancouver; and, (B) to the City of Vancouver that restored and revived the building and reopened it in 1980 as the Carnegie Community Centre, a new name and new breadth of services for the same core purpose — respect, support and more opportunities for people who need them.

Today’s outing had no theme in mind. Well, none beyond visiting two parks on the eastern edge of the city — one for the first time — and then walking residential streets back home.

And if I must, I’ll defend this bucolic shot of Trout Lake in John Hendry Park…

by saying, “Yah, well, it’s my tribute to a weeping willow doing what weeping willows do best, plus look at the fancy trick it plays with its trunk!”

(You are, however, allowed to roll your eyes.)

It’s en route the next park — Clark Park (second-oldest in the city and, official blurbs point out, “the only one that rhymes”) — that, still unbeknownst to me, the tribute theme starts to gain traction.

I’m on East 14th, moving right along because I’m eager to cross Commercial Drive and set foot in the Park-That-Rhymes for the very first time.

And I stop.

This is odd. Where some previous tree trunks have twee little “fairy houses” as adornments, this one has two mugs.

Deliberately there, pushed into place.

I lean in.

I don’t know if this is a tribute from Mike & Ella, or to Mike & Ella, but tribute it surely is. I am ridiculously pleased that, on July 23, 2022, such a good time was had by all.

Next tribute, the other side of the Park-That-Rhymes, and the other side of its other street boundary at that, on East 15th.

It is a tribute to graffiti. By a developer. Really.

Conceptually, I am totally in favour. Aesthetically, I wish the resulting murals were more interesting.

And then I run into busy Knight St., and it’s horrible and crowded and there’s no near-by traffic light to get me to the other side and suddenly trying to continue west seems like a bad idea. So I stomp north on Knight for a bit, and catch a bus to take me even farther north, where I’ll jump off and go walk through Strathcona for a while.

Off a bus at Clark & William, and I wander north-westish for a while and suddenly know where I am.

I’m on the edge of freight train tracks and if I follow them, I’ll slide in behind Parker Street Studios, a wonderfully delapidated collection of buildings that manage to stay upright and house lots of creative studios.

Yes, look! A mannequin at the door, and train tracks beyond.

These buildings and everything in/on/around them — all a tribute to creativity. (And survival.)

Lots of art up and down the outside walls, as I walk along the tracks-side of Parker Street Studios, but this free-standing tripod creation is my favourite:

Finally across the tracks and a bit farther north & west, and I’m in Strathcona. I zig and I zag and I stop for some lunch and much-needed glasses of water at the Wilder Snail café, and then I straight-line it across Keefer Street, heading for Main and a bus uphill to home.

I’m deep into Chinatown, practically at Main, when my eye is snagged by one more mural, in the alley just before the intersection.

Yucho Chow, yes.

I remember watching a documentary about his life and work, the city’s first professional Chinese photographer who, from 1906 to 1949, documented not just the lives of Chinese immigrants but of many other ethnicities as well — people who weren’t comfortable going to white photographers, given the power structures of the day. This link takes you to a portal page about Yucho Chow, because the page includes lots of video options as well as text websites, and shows his importance to our records of life in this city.

I keep reading the alley wall, and realize that one tribute leads to another.

Bottom left corner of the photo above, you’ll see the words “Time for changes” and a name, the name of the artist who painted this mural. The name is in black, hard to read: Smokey D.

I take a few steps farther into the alley, just past that wooden utility pole, and find the next tribute.

By Smokey D. to the city. (I later learn online that the City, in return, paid tribute to him by proclaiming March 11, 2023, his birthday, as Smokey D Day, honouring his artistry and activism on behalf of the Downtown East Side community.)

There’s one final tribute in all this, don’t you think?

To “positivity.”

I like that.

Surveillance

23 August 2024 – There are eyes upon you, as you wander Quebec and its cross-streets, in around Hillcrest Park.

Baby eyes…

feline eyes…

lepidoptera eyes…

(oh, the depths of schmetterling)…

and, of course, electronic smart-home eyes.

Though perhaps this home owner is secretly counting on Goof Bird, not Telus?

At WITT’s End

21 August 2024 – I am metaphorically at my wit’s end, as I step down from Brentwood Town Centre onto a busy street…

and, it turns out, geographically at WITT’s end as well.

This Burnaby shopping mall is the south end of Willingdon Linear Park, which the website tells me runs 13 blocks along Willingdon north to Hastings Street. I only later learn it is also a WITT project — a Walking Infrastructure To Transit project, part of a civic program to improve pedestrian access to public transit.

I might have enjoyed the pun, had I known it at the time.

Nahhh. Much more likely, as I turned the corner onto Willingdon Ave., that I would have simply continued to feel at wit’s end (“confused, uncertain what to do next”).

Does this look like any kind of park to you? No signage, just a double-wide sidewalk.

Well, okay. I head north.

And it begins to improve.

Some undulations, some landscaping, some diversions.

I begin to see bright side panels…

eco-sculptures…

and micro-parks, one with a fountain and generous seating…

and one with a climbing sculpture.

The bus stops have marshland scenes etched into the glass…

and utility boxes are photo-wrapped with artwork.

City workers are out in force…

though, while I applaud civic clean-up, I do wonder about the utility of simply blowing leaves from one place to another.

One last side panel, its blue curves echoing the curves of the Coast Range mountains beyond…

and I’m almost at Hastings, northern end of the park.

A final amusement.

I do like this! Mad puppy-dog biplane pilot careening through startled geese: thank you Emily Zimmerman. Created in 2010, her mural long predates the linear park. It’s also a lot more fun.

I think about it later, the lack of fun. And yes, maybe I am over-thinking. It’s just that… I find I am still at wit’s end about this experience. It was so lifeless! I bet you noticed that, in my photographs.

I did meet other pedestrians, people did walk and roller-blade the pathway, but nobody paid any attention to it, or its amenities. The fountain was turned off. No child bounced in the climbing sculpture. Nobody sat on a bench. It was emotionally inert. Chilly.

Mad puppy-dog biplane pilot was a relief, up there at Hastings: it warmed me up again.

Odd.

“Heritage”… and Heritage

17 August 2024 – Nothing as grand as the slippery nature of abstract nouns is on my mind. Not even the nature of heritage, within that slippery world.

I’ve simply decided to go look at the very specific, very tangible, very proper-noun Barclay Heritage Square that I’ve just noticed to the right of the caption WEST END on my Downtown Vancouver Walking Map. My route develops from there. I continue down Nicola to English Bay and along the Seawall to (bottom-centre of map) the David Lam Dock on False Creek.

It’s only after all that, that I have my moment of linguistic/philosophical fuss about the meaning of words.

Back to the beginning.

I’m at Broughton & Haro, north-east corner of Barclay Heritage Square, an enclave designated under the National Trust for Canada that preserves 12 Edwardian-era homes and woods in combination with an adjacent City park.

The houses are lived in…

and the woodland now contains a children’s playground, used by residents…

as well as families from the modern condo towers you can see in the background — the kind of towers now increasingly dominant in the West End environment.

For no particular reason, I make Nicola my route on south to the water. It rewards me immediately. I’m already a fan of Little Free Library kiosks & their unofficial equivalents, so I gurgle happily at the sight of this Pet Food Pantry, just past Barclay.

Wet & tinned dog & cat food are welcome donations, ditto dog & cat toys and accessories, but please nothing large and nothing for other small animals: “We don’t have the space.”

One more block, and here’s the Vancouver Mural Festival 2020 tribute (by Annie Chen & Carson Ting) to Joe Fortes, the City’s first official lifeguard.

In 1986 he was also named Vancouver’s Citizen of the Century by the Vancouver Historical Society, and for good cause — a Trinidadian immigrant, Fortes spent years unofficially guarding the beach and rescuing people before receiving the official appointment.

The Nelson-to-Comox block down Nicola is friendly underfoot…

and bright with flowers on vintage apartment balconies overhead.

The day grows steadily warmer. I am ever more appreciative of the shade offered by street-side trees, sometimes combined with lush ferns, as in this display near Pendrell…

and sometimes high over bare earth, as in this half-block interruption of Nicola’s vehicular status between Pendrell and See-em-ia Lane.

Yet even barren like this, it is a welcome space, a little spot just for people, very neighbourhood. The lane title is part of the charm: like other area lanes, it honours area history, in this case Mary See-em-ia, granddaughter of Chief Joe Capilano and a Squamish Nation matriarch.

A reminder as I cross Davie Street of real-estate trends…

and later a reminder, down at Harwood, of developer/cultural handshakes, here in the form of this Beyond the Mountains mural commissioned by the builder from Heiltsuk artist KC Hall.

On downhill to the water. I’m now at the foot of Nicola, about to emerge onto Beach Avenue, bordering Second Beach.

Apartments of various eras face the water, dozing in the afternoon sun…

and “open-air museum” installations, courtesy of the Vancouver Biennale, are as much part of the beach scenery as flowers, palm trees and sand.

I first pass Dennis Oppenheim’s Engagement

and then, as I walk east along the Seawall…

I come to my all-time favourite, Bernar Venet’s 217.5 Arc X 13.

Not much shade, here on the Seawall.

I pause under handy palm trees to cool off, agree with a bemused pair of Austrian tourists that outdoor palms are somehow not what we expect to see in Canada…

loiter under the next cluster of friendly palms to watch a mother finally tear her toddler away from these lifeboats and lead the child on down to the water…

and then buy myself a rum & raisin waffle cone at the Sunset Beach concession stand…

and find yet more shade in which to enjoy it.

I even manage to eat it all without dribbling any down my arm. (Live long enough, and you acquire a few Life Skills.)

Enough blazing sunshine. I forsake the Seawall to climb uphill to Beach Ave. and the shade offered by its trees. It gives me a distant view of Squamish artist Chrystal Sparrow’s mural on the Sunset Beach sport court, currently being repainted…

and a close-up of the mossy walls of the Vancouver Aquatic Centre as I carry on east.

But then, somewhere between George Wainborn Park and David Lam Park — bottom-centre of that first Walking Map image, if you care to scroll back up — I return to the Seawall and False Creek.

Where I am first amused by this tiny, very unofficial, birdhouse hanging from an official Seawall tree…

and soon afterwards hopeful of a ferry ride home from the David Lam Dock.

Look at this: two ferries converging on the dock (left & right, the rival Aquabus and False Creek lines respectively), eager to pick me up.

But, no, we are at cross-purposes. I want east; they are both headed west to Granville Island.

They assure me an east-bound boat will come by soon. One does. It then steers a slow zigzag route, meeting rider needs — which gives me time to think about “heritage.”

What counts, what doesn’t? In today’s walk, did only the very official and historically designated Barclay Heritage Square count? Or all of it?

The online Cambridge Dictionary gives me the answer I realize I want: heritage consists of “features belonging to the culture of a particular society.”

Yes. With that kind of latitude, it all counts.

From the designated Edwardian homes to the Fortes mural to “hi” on a sidewalk and a Pet Food Pantry; from ice cream and real-estate trends and Biennale art to lifeboats and palm trees and a silly little birdhouse and rival ferry lines.

All of it.

One Pole, Two Pole

15 August 2024 – Only later do I realize I have been offered a Dr. Seussian experience, right here at the corner of East 7th & Main.

It will have me chanting my rewrite of the tag line from his 1968 Foot Book: “One foot, two foot, red foot, blue foot.”

But not yet.

At the moment, as I approach Main on East 7th, all I notice is the message tacked to an aged wooden telephone pole. It catches my eye because, one, it is the only message, and, two, it looks polite & quiet & official & totally unlike everything else that bombards us from utility poles.

So I take a closer look.

I am charmed! This is surely the most polite “Post no bills” warning in the entire universe. Not just polite, but whimsical… and successful. This weary telephone pole is being allowed to rest in peace.

I am sufficiently intrigued to read the small print, and resolve to look up City of Vancouver Ordnance [sic] #17-B-9883 once I reach home. What are the official rules for postering, I wonder.

As Mr. Google points out, this very polite notice is marked by a typo, as well as by whimsy. “Ordnance” = guns, artillery & the like. Accept the suggested revised spelling, and all is well. “Ordinance” = a piece of legislation enacted by a municipal government.

Even then, missing “i” firmly in place, I still can’t find #17-B-9883 online.

But I do find a cheerful discussion of the City’s poster cylinder locations, complete with a handy map. No need to abuse wooden poles any longer! Tape your announcements to a purpose-built metal cylinder instead, with the City’s blessing.

I navigate the map, and discover there is an official poster-pole right next to the wooden pole at E7th & Main.

Screenshot

I zip back out in the fading light to have a look.

And there it is. The approved, yes-you-can, post-all-you-want pole, covered in notices.

“One pole, two pole,” I chant. “Don’t pole, do pole!”

I bet Dr. Seuss would approve.

White Bunnies

11 August 2024 – I’m in behind City Centre Artist Lodge, once again epicentre for the Vancouver Mural Festival, now in its final day.

Much to my surprise, I’m not much engaged with VMF official activities this year, but the hoop-la does have me noticing things with a sharper eye — colours, shapes, energy, juxtapositions — as i weave through the adjacent alleys.

I don’t yet know it, but I am curating my very own collection of white bunnies.

Starting with reflections + fence + signage + curb stones in the north/south alley right behind the Artist Lodge…

followed by resting man + dog + red-X motif + pop-up art display in the east/west alley between Main/Quebec/5th/4th…

which brings the white-bunny concept into my life.

It’s the framed quote, bottom-right in the line-up: “Art is a white bunny in a scrap metal yard.”

I like this! Deliberate bunnies, and “found” bunnies as well — whatever adds scamper & bounce to the streetscape.

Right opposite, same alley: four chairs lined up in a deliberate and carefully positioned tribute to the looming chair in the gigantic wall mural behind them…

one detail in Andy Dixon’s 2017 VMF mural Red Studio (After Matisse), his 90-foot-high portrayal of his own Vancouver studio.

After that, my white bunnies are whatever & wherever delights me, whether day-glo construction guidelines on the sidewalk before me at Quebec & East 4th…

or white communications discs high on a roof beyond me, punctuating the tower to their left…

or an eye-level fluorescent X just south of Quebec & East 2nd. (Only later, at home, do I notice the red-X motif in the alley with the pop-up gallery, and realize there must be a connection.)

One final white bunny, down by False Creek.

A multi-coloured white bunny, mind you — art is inclusive! — painted by Nature, and proclaiming a message that seems hard to believe, this hot mid-August day.


Fall is on its way.

Davie, W to E

6 May 2024 – I’m as far W on Davie Street as you can be, sharing a joke with the A-Maze-ing Laughter sculptures in Morton Park. English Bay can be glimpsed between the statues, and the glory of Stanley Park lies beyond.

I turn my back on all that.

I am heading E, not farther W — east the full length of Davie Street, right from “You are here” in this handy signpost map…

to False Creek, where the street is once again stopped by water.

Just as those waters transform as they go — from the breadth of Strait of Georgia, into English Bay and then into False Creek — so too does Davie Street reflect city transformations.

This 4-km-or-so route is a crosstown slice of Vancouver’s past & evolving future. It leads us from still-vintage West End, through Davie Village (once simply “Gay” & now a more complex family of inclusions), into Downtown with its Entertainment District, and on to Yaletown, western terminus of the railway and the repurposed former hub of railway equipment construction and repair.

Barely underway, I detour onto Bidwell long enough to admire the volunteer garden at the corner of Pantages Lane, with a vintage building opposite.

Well…

I later learn that the vintage building is just a vintage façade. It is, a realtor’s website informs me, “a beautifully restored heritage entrance” to a spiffy new residential tower, “that returns the street frontage to its original character.”

Back out to Davie, where I head eastward on up the street. I do mean “up” — both climbing away from the English Bay basin, and also tilting my head at the towers that increasingly line the street.

A past-&-future moment, here at Davie & Cardero: the district’s future already visible there on the left, and a big blue “rezoning application” notice on the fence of the modest old apartment building on the right.

I see a lot more of these notices as I go, including ones on an apartment building also marked with a “sale by court order” sign.

But there is still lots to enjoy, lots of human activity and human-scale engagement.

Also canine.

He has appropriated this bench outside a barber shop / tattoo parlour, and his confidence is likely well-placed. A bearded man has just walked through that still-open door, his leashed French bulldog by his side. Inside, they are greeted by the statue of a bulldog.

At Broughton, a wonderfully ornate vintage apartment building, its paintwork perhaps a bit scruffy but no sign of any redevelopment activity.

The shops & services around here are not glossy and latest-thing. I like them very much.

Just before Bute, I see this slivered opening between buildings, complete with mural…

and I follow it to the laneway beyond.

Where I turn left, and then left again back to Davie Street, through the Event Zone of Jim Deva Plaza.

The plaza honours the man’s lifelong courage and advocacy. Deva, one of the co-founders of Little Sisters Book and Art Emporium, challenged Canada’s censorship laws in the Supreme Court, and also — with greater success — worked with Civic authorities to promote safety and quality in Vancouver’s parks and public spaces.

I don’t know all this about him at the time. While in the plaza itself, I notice more trivial things. Such as…

Corner of Davie & Bute, and we’re well into Davie Village by now. Here, for example, with a mural tribute to jazz greats behind the intersection rainbows.

I cross, check the mural, and decide I’m personally more taken with the four-legged acrobat and the skate-boarding raccoons on the utility box.

But to each their own!

I pass a nude unimpressed by Happy Hour offerings…

and a greengrocer laying out yet more spring plants on his sidewalk shelving…

and then stop at the hot-pink bus shelter at Davie & Burrard.

The colour echoes the Village, as does the long-established Davie Village Community Garden visible through the mesh.

By now I’m used to rezoning/redevelopment notices, but I am sad to see them posted on this mesh fence as well. I’d love this Garden to continue, but…

what I see right across the street may be its future as well.

At Granville Street, I’m into the city’s Entertainment District (per its tourism maps), where I once again nod happy recognition at the neon signage for Two Parrots Bar & Grill.

Scotiabank Dance Centre is a restoration/new-build complex on the far corner, and other towers abound. So far, the Two Parrots still perch on their accustomed corner, no redevelopment notice anywhere in sight.

The lane immediately behind the building pays tribute to their longevity.

Well, sort of! (Upper left.)

More visual tribute at Seymour Street, where Jill Anholt’s 2005 sculpture, Moving Pictures, honours Vancity Theatre (home of VIFF), which stretches on down the block.

Downhill toward False Creek.

I cross Seymour, pause to again enjoy the long slice of water tumbling through Emery Barnes Park…

and here I am at Hamilton Street, in Yaletown. Once home to railway equipment construction and repair workshops, the district is now repurposed into food, drink, entertainment, & residential delights.

I sidetrack myself along Hamilton for a bit, enjoy reminders of a mid-pandemic “I ❤️ Yaletown” mural festival…

then return to Davie and cross Pacific Blvd.

Roundhouse Community Centre is right here, an architectural link to the past — and nowhere more powerfully than in its CPR Engine 374 Pavilion.

Where, after long service, that steam-era pioneer is on display.

Engine 371 beat her from eastern Canada to Port Moody but, on May 23, 1887, Engine 374 pulled the first transcontinental train into the City of Vancouver. She continued to do just that, until 1945. Restored and gleaming, she now rests and accepts our homage. (Squealing kiddies all around me, especially the ones taking turns in the driver’s seat.) A volunteer urges me to return for the May 19 Anniversary Celebration, when she’ll make her yearly trip outside and be the centre of attention on the Roundhouse Turntable.

Now for the last few steps on Davie, on to the bit of track and sculpture in the traffic circle, with Yaletown Dock to mark water’s edge and my arrival at False Creek

I loop along the waterfront for a bit, then turn left into and through Steamboat Mews…

back to Pacific Blvd., where I hop a bus for home.

Protection

1 May 2024 – You can protect your yard in a variety of ways.

Build a high fence, for example…

post security cameras…

keep a guard dog…

or, instead…

plant yourself a dragon.

(With impressed & amused thanks to He-Knows-Who-He-Is.)

Oz (2024) to Ossington (2014)

25 April 2024 – I asked, and someone very dear to me answered. All the way from Oz (aka Australia).

My previous post ended with this 2013 Toronto mural detail…

plus my request for help in identifying the artist, after all this time.

I assumed any answer would come from a Torontonian, but how silly of me! In this digital age, help is not geography-based. You just give that nice Mr. Google a descriptive phrase, and — hey presto — you are on-site with award-winning contemporary artist EGRart.

The link, as sent to me and here repeated for you, is for her Murals page.

Scroll down, scroll down, and there it is …

a larger view of the dandelion mural (including the male head done by collaborator Elicser).

The photo pitches me back a decade-plus in time. I am again walking west on that street, pausing at that alley, enjoying that mural and all its elements.

And then, back here in 2024 Vancouver, I continue to scroll the Murals page. Down-down-down.

Suddenly… whump! I see this.

Oh, I do remember that garage door. Except when I saw and photographed it, it looked like this:

EGR has transported me back to the laneway behind Ossington Ave., just north of Queen St., on a very snowy day in 2014. Urban myth had it — perhaps correctly — local residents decided that, since their laneway garages were going to be graffiti’d anyway, they might as well invite good artists to come in and do it well.

So they did.

And artists like UBER…

and SPUD…

were among those who responded.

The whole laneway became an open-air art gallery.

A very cold art gallery, that particular day, and I soon skedaddled.

Enough 2014!

Here’s a right-now update, thanks to EGR’s News page. This very Saturday, April 27, she will join co-panelists in an Artist Talk at the Centre for Social Innovation on Spadina Ave. Topic: Women in Mural Art – Building Careers.

How pleasing, to dance through time & space and end, not with nostalgia, but with news of forward momentum.

  • WALKING… & SEEING

    "Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking" -- Antonio Machado (1875-1939)

    "The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes" -- Marcel Proust (1871-1922)

    "A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities" -- Rebecca Solnit, "Wanderlust: A History of Walking"

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