Free Range
Found in translation
Despite my Swiss-cheese memory and tongue of clay, I am trying to learn a few essential words in the languages of the people I encounter daily.
News, thoughts, finds – and the odd rant
Despite my Swiss-cheese memory and tongue of clay, I am trying to learn a few essential words in the languages of the people I encounter daily.
The Gastown Grand Prix on a sunny evening, with cobblestones lighted by glaring late sun or cast in dark shade by tall buildings, was a fun playground to experiment with the photo challenges of the contrast of blinding light and deep shade, and intense speed.
The songbirds ushered in the Solstice, singing spun light from the northeastern horizon, pouring it into my neighbourhood, spilling a beam on the bench in my front yard.
Had someone tortured my child as the nuns and priests and bigots tortured the children depicted in the film, had bigots treated anyone in my circles as Saul was treated by many people, I'd have fought them all to the death. Had I known, I'd have acted. Which, of course, is the point of a movie like Indian Horse.