It’s been a slow spring. Not the weather, which is breaking records and likely a sign of the apocalypse, but work wise. I work mainly as an editor in documentary film. I fancy myself a writer, and have the cliché box of prose, dusty film scripts and full on crazy raving journals, but it doesn’t pay the bills.
Well it does sometimes, but not consistently, and it’s the hobgoblin of small minds that I’ve been fretting about.
‘I just don’t understand Montreal at all’, said my childhood friend at our annual Christmas meat party. I had shown him my videos of ‘The Young Poodles Movie’, that follow my friend Bruno’s efforts to form a rock band. While my childhood friend has been in the trenches building a company to expedite the delivery of materials to the industrial behemoth that is the Tar Sands, Bruno and I and many others have been in Montreal, pretending? Trying? Or being? Some kinds of writers, filmmakers, artists?
‘I’d rather be a bad artist than a loser,’ was Bruno’s line, about the need to release the book he’s been working on for years. And at 39 I feel the same way – it can be embarrassing enough to be this old, but even more so if you are pretending to follow ‘The Artist’s Way’ yet are too shy, proud, stupid, etc. to put your work out there.
It’s beautiful in Montreal. A cool 21 degrees, green plants everywhere. The girls are out of control in summer dresses, the bike lanes and Bixi stands humming. ‘Park your cars, grab a bike…’ people are just so happy to enjoy the city on two wheels rather than four.
I came up with a mantra last night, prompted by ‘Getting Started’ by Guy Kawasaki. My mantra is ‘Create Hope’ – and that’s what I want to do. What better gift to give my children? What better way to give something back to this world?
Work is slow, its very stressful, but this is Montreal in the summertime, and there’s no place else I’d rather be.
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