the mood of the rainforest

Pacific Spirit Park, Vancouver

If you live in Vancouver you’ll have noticed we’ve been drowning for the last month, now known as “Juneuary”. While one side of me grumbles with discontentment, the other realizes that this temperate rainforest city I’ve grown up in has made me the moody, introspective artist that I am. Nearly everything I work on has a little bit of that dark, dreary, day-dreaming quality to it. While I often curse the grey skies, I am also attracted to grey tones and the pewter colour of the ocean when I ride the ferry to one of the islands on an overcast day. Even our pint-sized house interior colouring has a natural west-coast influence in the colouring and materials. There’s no escaping it – it’s in my blood.

Sombrio Beach, Vancouver Island

Besides all the lush greenery and fresh-smelling air, the thing that really makes a rainy city great is when the sun comes out, there is nothing more exciting. It feels like the city suddenly transforms from an insular, head-down hermit into a vibrant, smiling socialite. People drop everything and head to the beach, a patio, the forest, the mountains – they leave work early, call in sick, soak up the vitamin D and dry out their damp bones until the sun goes down.

Sunset in August – backyard view

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve traveled to tropical places, deserts and the like, and love it. Between the constant warm temperatures, the flora and fauna, and the intense sun, it can be heaven for me and a welcome break from life under a sheet of grey. In 2003 I spent three months in Australia and felt more at home than I did in Vancouver at the time. I spent years trying to figure out how I could live in Melbourne instead, but for various reasons it never happened. I did believe that Vancouver would grow and change to become a city like Melbourne, but when I was 21, time was of the essence – I had to get everything I wanted NOW.

Melbourne’s architecture never ceased to make me fall in love with the city over and over again

Well, time has passed, my impatient nature has mellowed (slightly), and I’m still here. In Vancouver. I still get incredibly nostalgic for Melbourne, but you know, I wasn’t wrong when I predicted that Vancouver would make its way towards being almost as cool. What’s even better – being 30 isn’t actually as old as I thought it would be. We still have a ways to go in our moody city, but how far we have come. We encourage bikes, public spaces, and car sharing. The artist community has grown and diversified beyond upscale South Granville and hipster Main Street. Music fills the streets of downtown more than ever with a variety of buskers from solo synth-guys to four piece bands. There are markets all over the place these days. Rain or shine. I find that incredible sometimes – the stuff that gets done in the rain.

There are still several things that annoy the hell out of me in my hometown from time to time, and the rain really doesn’t seem to help sometimes, but complaining just makes it feel worse. I think what it comes down to is that human beings are always changing and looking for things to vent their own issues onto, whether it be their city, their spouse, or the weather.

So no matter how dumpy I might feel after days on end of grey skies, I will try to play in the rain, bask in the clouds, and embrace my moody vitamin D deficient self for what it is. And if I just want to sit inside and play Skyrim for three hours… well, that’s okay sometimes too. Because that’s how I roll in the rainforest.

I invite you to listen to one of my favourite grey-day musicians: Beach House.


the things we do

Now that we’re settled into the new hizzy, we’ve been able to get back into our old routines, and start some new ones. Scott and I are fortunate to each have a work space to putter with our creative endeavours now. There was a time when I had a studio at The Beaumont Studios, but the high cost of living in Vancouver makes that quite a luxury when you’re just starting to try to make additional income from creative work. I had to give it up and tried to work in my kitchen at home. It was possible, but I gradually created less and less since I had to put away everything I was working on in order to cook dinner. I was starting to look at shared studios again, but then we came to the decision to build our pint-sized house.

So, those kitchen studio days are over and I have a shiny new office/studio to work in and Scott has his man-cave where he can work with sound and music to his heart’s content. It’s very exciting and I can feel my desire to work coming back again. I’ve been mostly working with upcycling clothing lately, as I have a seriously large pile of old but still decent clothing that I’m tired of wearing. What better way to make use of it than hack it up and marry it with another piece of clothing? As my skills improve I am making my way towards being able to sell pieces.

Last weekend I completed a women’s shirt, composed of two shirts. It seems inspired by tribal and post-apocalyptic styling, or at least that’s what I concluded upon completion… I often just run with things and see what happens.

There was less sewing involved in this item, and more cutting/remixing to get the end result. My next project will likely involve incorporating my hand carved block prints into some stuff to wear, as I’d like to add a further personal and artistic touch to these upcycled items.

Okay, that’s enough about me. I’d like to share one of Scott’s latest creations. A couple of years ago we went to Cuba for about a week. Scott brought his portable recorder and while I took photos of our surroundings, he recorded the sounds. It’s quite a unique way of bringing back memories, and not something many people will do on their travels. I really enjoy being able to listen just as much as I like to look at photos or videos. Scott has been working away since our trip, organizing files and transforming them into songs. His most recent track blends together a number of recordings that he gathered in and around Vinales, a peaceful valley about 2 hours south-west of Havana. The recordings include chickens, horses, motorbikes and children. How could this be a song, you might ask? Well, have a listen.

If you’ve gotten this far, I thank you for taking the time to learn a bit about what we do with our time beyond building a laneway house.  I have another post waiting in the wings – this time one of our favourite pasta recipes that I concocted when I was given a huge bag of extra-ripe figs while I was a landscaper. Stay tuned if that sounds yummy to you!