As I noted recently, these last few weeks, when I have the time, I have been trying to get rid of stuff I have been lugging around for the last, euh, 25 years or so. So I have been looking through a mind-boggling amount of junk that I have never bothered to throw out but also some sentimental stuff such as photos, old letters, mementos as well as the occasional and somewhat important-looking document that I can never decide whether I should keep or not.
I have boxes and boxes that I have to go through and I have not really looked in them in a very, very long time. I usually just store everything in a spare closet from move to move, thinking that I will get around to it… eventually… and then totally forget about it until the next move. But because this apartment has NO STORAGE SPACE, I have no choice now. I have some serious “decluttering” to do.
Continue reading nostalgie
Last night I dreamt of a strange appartment building. The structure was very bizarre and dangerous but that is not surprising; I often dream of weird, defintely not up-to-code buildings where you can literally kill yourself by just milling about. In my dreams, I am usually living in them, often alone, or looking around because I am thinking about moving in. Anyway, in this dream, things were slightly different because the building was occupied and I knew a couple of the tennants (people I know in real life). And although I was not moved in yet, I had been invited over to dinner by some other tennants I did not know and spent most of the evening spilling my wine on the tablecloth (ok, that is not really different; I spill stuff on a regular basis).
Before I left, my hosts showed me photos of various parties that had been organised in the building over the years. As I looked at the photos, I remember thinking that was a lot of parties and a lot of people. I was also rather baffled to note that Leonard Nimoy was in almost all the photos, invariably standing alone yet surrounded by dozens and dozens of people, his arms folded across his chest, a look of astonishment on his face. When I asked about him, I was told he had been asked to move out but that he was not very happy about it and insisted on taking all his stuff with him.
What struck me the most about the dream was that when I left to go home, I was using my power wheelchair. This is kind of strange because, notwithstanding that I have not used it in over two years, in most of my dreams, if I am not vaguely walking, how I get around is usually not emphasised. But this time, I distinctly remember slipping into something familiar, comfortable, comforting even. I remember putting it into fourth gear, like I had so many times before when I was just about to take off. As I turned the first corner, I landed on Saint-Laurent Blvd and came to a sudden halt as I viewed the throngs and throngs of people on the sidewalk. And, as I often have, I remember thinking, quite annoyed, “man, I gotta find a side street fast because there is no way I am going to put up with all those mindless bipeds walking into me every few feet”.
Continue reading I hold these truths to be self-evident