Locomotion

I think that the evolution of an artist is fascinating. Being married to one, I must admit the changes are at times subtle although other times it is pointed while swift and ultimately, compelling.

Besides the beautiful changes within my very own artist, I want to nod to my next-favourite, observable artist's evolution: k-os.

A few years back, I went to A&B Sound to determine whether or not I could still take a risk in a real CD purchase. I felt I needed to defy the increased music downloading and make a real purchase of a real piece of art (CD jacket and all, can you imagine!?) and so, I opted for K-os' Joyful Rebellion. Since that purchase, I've never looked back. K-os recently released Atlantis: Hymns for Disco and *mushes* Angelo bought it for me as a treat upon my return from the work-mall-abyss.

Let me walk you through my ten-step evolution of k-os:

1. Put in the k-os CD
2. Let the music play
3. Half-way into the first song, be surprised and interested
4. Tap feet, hands or nod in time with the music
5. Let the second song begin
6. Be surprised, again but in a different way
7. Wonder, by the end of song number 2, whether or not the influence is Bob Marley, John Coltrane, Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, Elvis or other. This will begin again after number ends and number 3 begins.
8. Turn the volume knob up
9. Tell another person about the k-os experience
10. Challenge the album's innovation during each play and be happy to acknowledge that it's really that damn good.

K-os is locomotion. He demonstrates an evolution of an artist which is exemplified consistently and gladly during each play.

Cheer up you Mothr Canuckrs, we've got a contender.

Being inside West Edmonton mall for more than a day is nothing less than overwhelming. I'll attempt to explain the consumer-killer culture of it. Okay, let me clarify, I was there for work, at the oh-so-aptly-named Fantasyland Hotel, and not for a vacation. I was checked in for four days and three nights and it was nothing short of inundating.

The manufactured feeling of joy cannot be compared. As a point of interest, the last time I was there was the summer between grade 8 and grade 9. It was exhilarating then. It was not all that this time around. I must admit the waterpark appears to have held up since it looked quite attractive. I didn't shimmy down any slides, but it did look appealing.

Since I stayed at the WestEd hotel, I had the unique opportunity to walk the mall halls without anything being open. Wandering (to walk off a well-deserved buzz), I purused the darkened windows. Shopping closed store windows is not very alluring. If anything, the fade and the quiet of those moments gives cause to contemplate the banal consumer attraction of a mall. The mall of all malls, a strange altar of a what it means to be a wealthy nation to the world, turned out to be remarkably poignant. A structure, built by man, to allure man to spend money and benefit another man.

Fantasyland? Absolutely.

I often think of the fact that Terry Fox ran a marathon a day. I measure myself up against him, beating myself up for not having attained the marathon medal in my life. Then, I realize that I have two legs. Wow.

Terry Fox + Marathon + one leg = locomotion.

The latest marathon man in my life is Dean Karnazes. Karno is well on his way to completing his insane goal of running 50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days. He is driven.

Its difficult to comprehend how to be convicted to believe in myself to the point of accomplishing monsterous tasks such as these. Is there a way into that kind of mindset without being enigmatic? Wait, here's a different way to tackle that question... maybe Dean and Terry are the normal ones and the rest of are apathetic. Yep, thats by far more likely. I am capable of doing those things, I just don't do them. I acknowledge that my drive is nowhere near theirs.

Now comes the hard part... I know that... what am I going to do about it now?

To follow Karno day to day, read his blog.

I'm a newly-minted David Bowie fan. I cannot believe how much I am in love with Bowie after never knowing or loving him before my thirty-second birthday. His musical innovation is remarkable. His voice is like that of a chameleon. Bowie creates in response to culture while directing culture onto an unfamiliar, more relevant path.

My most favourite new tune, which I've listened to incessantly over the past three weeks, is called "Heroes". The song is a legend, covered by many other artists but never really captured in the same way as it was first introduced. I find myself delighted by every component of the under-four minute recording. "Heroes" ignites my soul with romance and fanciful escapes while it fuels a spirit of freedom under what is depicted as grueling circumstances.

I wonder what kind of person would I have become had I heard "Heroes" when it was released in 1977? I really think it stirs a theme or element within me that has not yet been explored. Would I have become a different person? Seriously, the music moves me that deeply.

Bowie-adoring, wondering when I'll overdose on him.
Decidedly never.

Looking at my most recent half-marathon bib, I must concede that June was a long time ago. Since that victorious and indignant run, I've grown a lot. My heart continues to crave pain like only a 21.09 kilometre run can offer.

I recall during the run that a young woman, maybe 21 years of age, approached me at my snails' pace. It was in and around the ten kilometre marker, when she said 'hello'. I had seen her intermittently throughout the first hour and greeted her back. We briefly discussed the unusually hot weather and the lovely route unitl she got to the real purpose of her approach. She mentioned that ten kilometres was the most she had ever run and was concerned about whether or not she would be able to make the entire twenty-one-plus k's. I suggested it got easier although only under one condition. She asked what that condition might be.

I replied, "Embrace the pain."

This is locomotion.