This book was an amazing read. A boy is found dead and the suspect is a classmate with a father in the District attorneys office. Lately it’s been a struggle for me to focus but I had no difficulty focusing on this book. The plot seems simple but it isn’t, it’s genius! There are duelling plot lines that kinda just sneak up on you and before you know it you’ve been had!
I had a large day today. Woman’s march in Halifax and I visited The Art Gallery of NS. I’ve always admired Maud Lewis and it was a perfect day to learn a little more about her art and life.
The Halifax rally was a great experience with amazing speakers like El Jones and Rebecca Thomas. Both accomplished poets with inspiring words that brought me to tears.
After the rally I took a tour through the gallery…
I remember this house when I was a child driving through Marshaltown, NS. I’ve always been fascinated by her life. So simple a life but she made such an impact. She shone through her work. I have prints of her work around but seeing it in person you can see the true colour and brightness. Her voice is evident, she painted her grim world beautiful. She makes me feel we all have that ability to create hope and spread it around. My own attempts at formal “Art” has helped me learn the amount of energy that can go into something creative. You can feel it when you see it, the energy remains forever in that piece. Even when I create a knitted piece I feel the energy in it.
I stopped by Argyle Fine Art also and the PreShrunk show is happening. These little felted pieces caught my eye.
Love these crows…
I actually stepped aside to avoid falling into this well…haha…so real…
I want to be in a place busy with the hum of voices.
Voices confabulating, words I can’t decipher.
Not here in the quiet.
My brain is free to wander,
Free to play the broken record of thoughts.
Ruminating in a stew of self doubt and words left unsaid.
For those that pass judgement without understanding …. get a life…
The nagging scent of rotting flesh
Stays with me.
I can’t wash it away with the days
Trials and stressors.
It Spills over into my restful moments,
Creeps into my everyday thoughts,
Disturbs my peaceful dreams,
It echoes into my memories,
Like a chemical spill in my brain,
Washing it with dread,
It soaks in the stench of death.
Only the kind release of life’s grip,
will take it away.
This was waiting for me when I arrived home from White Point today…
It seems like whatever I’m intrigued about at the moment is always featured in this magazine.