My new book ending ritual. (Thanks and praises to Montreal)

I take my spot at the edge of the belvedere.

Hallelujah in the ipod, live at london, of course.

I pop open a can of perrier and look at the distance as the music takes over me.

There is no end to the love I feel for this city.

I simply stand in awe of it. The canyon of Peel ahead of me, the flags of McGill and then at Leonard himself , standing tall on that building.

I salute him, one Montreal writer to another, then praise yhwh for such a moment worth living for.

I look at Concordia next to the mural, hall bulding right in front of me and I feel it: The underdog frenchie from the east end just penned his 10th book in seven years.

I watch to the west, where the green of trees mark the beggining of the south-west.

Beyond downtown, down from the hill. Two books about that place.

I look at the river below it.

Sip of perrier.

I look to the east. Theres a tall new building there with an edge of the colour red.

It stands at the corner of Saint-Laurent and Maisonneuve.

My playground for almost 20 years. Too many pages to keep count.

I look the the river beyond it, those islands in front of hochelaga and I think of every place I love that I can’t see from here.

“It’s a very lonely hallelujah!” leonard sings. It hits me to the heart..

I take a sip and give a moment of thought for someone in particular then look at the city again. The wind is good and the sun began its descent on the other side of Mont-Royal.

Can is near empty. Song goes to its final stretch.

I look at Leonard again and thank him.

The city, the trees, the people. I look at dorm rooms and write the life of a student there. I look at the south west and see Sean Cullens’ next move.

I look at centre-sud and see Balkon fucking around the way he does.

I am this city, I live this city, I write this city tenth book about it and I am only getting started.

The song ends to applause.

I tank the perrier.

Tourists left and right, smiling and taking selfies and I stand alone in a crowd living my seven minutes of bliss.

Time for your final thanks, so thank you Montreal.

Grab my bag and one last glance. Then simply walk away.

Leonard will still be there for the next one.

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Don’t be a Writer (Poem)

Don’t be a Writer

 

Don’t do it.

Don’t put yourself through this

You deserve better than this

Hear me now

Or you’ll find yourself

Up at five in the morning

Digging into yourself

Into your guts

In impossible ways

While the world

Is still asleep

 

Don’t be a writer

Don’t do this to yourself

Bukowski told you

Roth had warned you

Everyone warned you

Experience doesn’t add up

No two books are the same

It never gets easier

So save yourself the hurt

 

Be something else

Be an accountant

Be a gardener

Be a carpenter

Be something else

Anything else

Except a writer

 

And if you found yourself

laughing at this

Smiling at this,

Shaking your head lightly

Then you weren’t meant for it.

It’s fine

It’s good.

Get out now

Leave the room

This wasn’t meant for you

 

But if my words sparked an anger in you

A fire in you

A daring need to prove me wrong

That unnerving urge

To get on the page

To scream at me

Laugh at me

Lurch towards me

In defiance

Of all the gods

And men

Or simple me

Standing here

With such apparent vitriol

 

Then congratulations

 

You are it

You’ve done it

You are there for it

You will live

And die by it

You will lose your mind

And find your soul

One way or another

Until you know

The full meaning

Of the warning

 

“Don’t do it.”

 

Yet

When the years have come

Gone

And passed by

You and I

May know a moment

Of peace together

Over coffee

In a city somewhere

Lost in time

As the world

Has gone somewhere else

 

And

We will stand there

Alone

In the universe

 

Laughing.

Did Some 360 Bullet Time Light Painting @ XANGLE (120 cameras)

Over the years, I’ve been a drummer, bass player, signer in hardcore bands. I’ve been a writer and a poet for over a decade and then a painter as well. I’ve worked with canvas, razor blades, wood, plywood, coroplast, lines, splashes, blothces, silkscreen, stains…Sometimes I just throw paint at a canvas and see how I can get an emotion out of it.

A few weeks ago I was invited to try light painting by Eric Paré and it turned out to be one of the most intense and emotionally satisfying creative moment of my life.

He made a video out of it and I can’t ever be grateful enough for the way XANGLE presented my work and process.

This one’s going in the portfolio for sure!

Thank you so much!

Ian.