That Smile

18 August 2025 – I’m just off a False Creek ferry and walking uphill toward home, still full of Flat White and café chatter with a good friend, when I stop to admire another good friend. (Albeit in a different category of friendship: painted, not human.)

There she is, high a-top her alley home, her quizzical smile floating out across the neighbourhood.

Is she our Mona Lisa, 21st-c. alley-girl version?

No. Given the pace of local redevelopment, and the building that is her home, she is our Cheshire Cat. Soon she will be gone, with only her smile lingering behind, and only in memory.

I”m standing at 3rd Avenue & Ontario Street, the intersection at the north-east corner of that L-shaped site, outlined in red. This is the huge redevelopment site purchased by the PCI Group in 2021, whose redevelopment proposal finally received City approval in May of this year. Cheshire Cat Smile is mid-way down lot 5, on the south side of the alley.

I head down the alley. Not for the first time, but it’s different every time, isn’t it? (No need to repeat the Heraclitus discussion…)

Crow in a convex mirror! I’ve never noticed him before, so already the alley is different.

The actual crow, opposite…

which causes me, for the first time, to pay attention to the mural as a whole — signed R. Tetrault and, as I later learn, called Flight Path.

Murals both side of an alley and a whole line-up of hydro H-frame poles in between! Sigh. Life is perfect.

I tip my head, pay homage to the Cheshire Cat Smile…

knowing it’s tagged Lil Top but also knowing I’ve never been able to find any info about that tag. So Cheshire Cat she has become.

The woman I’d noticed under the nearest H-frame, as I photographed Flight Path, is now standing next to me, also enjoying the art.

“It’s people expressing themselves,” she says. “And we get to look at it for free! It makes us happy.”

She points: “Like that flower, that butterfly.”

I point to the message next to it, which sets us both laughing.

And then we go our separate ways, each dawdling where we each prefer to dawdle, walking the line of Ciele Beau murals opposite Flight Path.

I pause at a doorway, its notice as outdated as the reminder to “call your mum.”

Nobody, employee or otherwise, will be entering by this door ever again, I tell myself. Or by any other door, on this doomed brick building.

Ghosts of Eras Past to the north of me as well — torn fencing frames the Cosmic Breeze mural on 3rd Avenue, painted by Olivia di Liberto for the 2019 Vancouver Mural Festival. RIP, VMF.

I leave the alley, turn the corner onto W 4th. I’m now looking at the block-long southern length of the site, Ontario to Manitoba. All boarded up, waiting for What Happens Next.

This artist’s rendering shows What Will Happen Next.

“Innovative industrial and commercial uses,” says the corporate website, “heritage retention and refurbishment, office, daycare and ground-floor food and beverage… centred around a new public plaza.”

Now that I’m home, and learning all this… I have to do a little rethinking, don’t I? And so do you.

Employees will once again go in and out of doors in the corner brick building, which is not doomed after all. And Flight Path may fly again. On his website, Tetrault explains he painted it “on plywood for removal and reinstallation on a new commercial development.”

But, ohhhh… Cheshire Cat will be gone.

Her Smile will have to float in our memories.

Upon Reflection

6 May 2025 – Today our Prime Minister met with the President of that giant neighbour to the south, an event that gives us Canadians much material for reflection.

For example, we reflect upon the fact that our Prime Minister had to — yet again — explain that Canada is an independent and sovereign country.

Sigh.

Fortunately, this bright sunny day gives me other, happier, and less surreal, objects for reflection. In fact, the sunshine causes the reflection to be done for me. I don’t even have to think. All I have to do is look.

I am in an alley just west of Main Street, between 7th and 6th avenues, where the brightly painted west wall, a remnant of the 2017 Mural Festival…

with the help of adjacent buildings and some H-frame hydro poles, throws bright reflections into every glass surface opposite.

For example, wall plus next-door building…

wall plus neighbour plus an H-frame…

blocks of mini-reflections above a parkade entrance, with equally strong light reflections on the laneway below…

even the parkade door itself! and…

and even the corner of a decidedly uninspired building, having itself a dance with that bit of H-frame.

Cheered and amused, I walk on down to False Creek and a lunch date with friends.

Right here, in this one downtown alley in one city in one province in our independent, sovereign country.

🇨🇦🦫🇨🇦

Project Icon

2 January 2024 – The challenge is: how many icons can I jam into my first post of the new year? Icons that say, “Vancouver in winter,” but also speak to my own obsessions.

Off I go.

Start with: alley + street art + H-frame hydro poles + distant mountains fading into the misty drizzle.

Add: False Creek + Science World dome + Aquabus ferry + orange Port of Vancouver “giraffes” + (audio only, take my word for it) the 12-noon Gastown Steam Clock rendition of O Canada.

Add: a dance of lines & spaces.

Add: a surprise. If your eyes are open, there is always a surprise. (Though not always as dramatic, or unfortunate, as this one east of the Cambie bridge.)

Add: the gleam of rust in the rain. (Here, the sewer-pipe “train engine” over a Hinge Park creek.)

Add: winter tree trunk moss, garnished with fernlets.

As I walk back south on Ontario Street, I think: It lacks only a crow.

And then, just north of East 5th, there he is!

Yes, yes, I know. He is white, and painted, and riding a skateboard. But I say he is a crow, and it’s my blog.

My year has begun.

Translation

3 July 2023 – Abstract concepts, translated for us into physical reality by everyday objects.

It all starts with this H-Frame.

I look at the way it pivots the alley intersection…

and I see a 45° angle.

Once I reach False Creek and start wandering the Olympic Village area, I realize my eyes are still firmly in translation mode.

Here at patio’s edge, for example: a 90° angle / right angle (with a sine curve thrown in)…

and, here in the plaza, the full 360° — a triumphant Coast Salish circle on the City’s classiest storm cover (thank you Susan Point & daughter Kathy Carroll).

Parallel lines beside me (with a sweep of 45° plus hook for company)…

a cube in the playground behind me…

and, out there in front of me, a floating X and Y axis. (Plus dog.)

More fancifully, here a teardrop…

there a wavelength (wave + length, allow me my pun)…

and a whole world of reflection/refraction dancing around that rusty old starburst beneath the pedestrian bridge.

I squint, not at these curves but between them — and then, as a result of what I see, reassess the curves. They are…

framework.

Framework again, in the alley as I head for home.

But “framework” is just the start of it.

A whole litany of concepts within and around the frame: spherical, reflective, convex, circular…

also horizontal, vertical, parallel…

Street + Art

12 March 2023 – Off-the-street official art triggered this walk. Thank you Canadian Art Junkie for steering me to the Oh Canada exhibit, currently on view at the quirky, stimulating Outsiders and Others Gallery on E. Hastings in Vancouver’s Strathcona neighbourhood. American artist Amy Rice armed herself with vintage envelopes, mailed either to or from Canada, and then added her own embellishments.

Like this.

Read it any way you like. I only later notice the 1937 stamp and franking, both to commemorate the coronation of George VI — initially I am simply charmed by what I interpret as a snow goose flapping his powerful way across a couple of NWT hamlet houses in the “matchbox” style of early, bare-bones settlement architecture.

Back out on the street, I head south on Heatley Ave., tempted by mild weather to walk and walk and explore and explore.

The streets themselves are art, the energy of all those juxtapositions, all those opinions & all that activity, all that colour & line.

Also sassy signs.

I peer through the closed doors of a brew-pub and laugh out loud at what could be the kick-ass theme for post-menopausal women everywhere:

Then, just by that same door, this tender street-RIP for someone lost, and much loved:

You see what I mean about juxtapositions.

An alley, and a whole battalion of H-frame hydro poles! They’re old, outmoded, and iconic. Heritage, even. The art touch here — not that I need one — is that orange construction tarp, thrown like a great trailing scarf about the throat.

One of my favourite house fronts, at Heatley & East Pender; I am delighted that it is still so fresh and bright.

And then, at Keefer, a sharp left turn, to take myself to Hawks St. one block over, and lunch at The Wilder Snail.

Here, a high-flying snail shell…

and there, in the art studio doorway opposite, a low-flying crow.

South on Hawks, tracing my way through Strathcona Linear Park, & a pause at another street-RIP tribute. As tender as the one I saw earlier, as full of love & loss.

A whole trio of discoveries, one block after another, as I alley-walk my way west between Union and Prior streets. First block, a sparkling panel of stained glass, set into an outbuilding…

next block, a giant stuffed dog, adorable, but abandoned…

and, third block, the nostalgia of laundry hung out to dry in the afternoon breeze. Nothing else smells the same as air-dried laundry, and nothing else smells as good.

A hit of honest alley rust, as I near Gore Street…

and a clutch of beautifully restored and cared-for vintage homes. I anthropomorphize the scene, imagine them huddling together as they nervously eye their neighbour to the right. Will it be restoration? Or demolition?

Across the train tracks, and south yet again on Station St., with the imposing façade of Pacific Central Station to my left and a mix of shabby backyards, empty lots and some handsome new housing to my right.

Through a chainlink fence, a graffito I interpret as the loving depiction of two pregnant women…

an interpretation perhaps born of the poster on the balcony next door.

I nip into Pac Central (opened 1919 as the Canadian Northern Railway Station) for a quick eyeful of the restored grandeur of its Neoclassical Revival Style design. The clock surely cannot be of the era, but I think it works well with the calm angularities of that ceiling.

And then I walk the final few blocks uphill to home.

  • 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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