My mind is still full of Montreal. I loved it's busy but distracted energy, its distain for functionalism and the way I could make friends with people with out them saying "What the hex happened to your hair?". Currently I'm in Toronto which right now feels like a smarter version of Calgary. I'm not trying to be pretentious (remember I live in Tbay-o (which is as good a place as any))but I really enjoy history, art and interesting people and there seemed to be an eclectic gathering of each of these in this city. However, now with my head a muddle from ....
conversations with A Guinean fashion designer, a developmental graduate from Kentucky/Sweden, a young native activist/artist and an Iranian human rights lobbyist
Great literature from.....
C.S. Lewis, 'Che' Guevara and an anarchist bookstore I stumbled upon
as well as a thousand thousand words given through works in .......
the Montreal museum of fine art and museum of modern art
I think I'm ready to sit in a quiet place and process the many ways, words and images I've had the pleasure of experienc.
When I first realized the caliber of the art that I would be seeing in one of the museums (Monet, van Gogh) I decide I would spend some good time with a piece of art and soak. I also decided that it wasn't going to be a Crucifix (I felt I'd been move more than enough by the old image of death on a cross) but I guess I'm just stubbornly in love with that old deity of Christ.
.... following from my journal....
I saw the most powerful crucifix of my life. I was caught between a respectful sigh and a half smile at this unrealistic but all too familiar image. It had a cartoonish face and figure but held all the vulnerability and sorrow a dieing man is due. There was no clenched bloody fists or aungstful gaze at heaven or earth. It was exactly what the crucifixion was..... unrealistic 
