Lovin' Toronto for the Umpteenth Time

 

“Toronto is a city that has yet to fall in love with itself.”

 - Pier Giorgio Di Cicco,

Toronto’s Poet Laureate, 2004-2009

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

Although I admire the poetry of Pier Giorgio Di Cicco, I am exasperated by this quotation. It reminds me of the insipid questions that Toronto reporters breathlessly asked second-rate stars at the Toronto International Film Festival in the 1990s: “Whadaya think of Toronto? Do you like us?”

How cringingly embarrassing.

Back in the 1990s, Toronto wasn’t used to the world’s media glare. It brought out the city’s insecurities and clumsiness.

Me? I didn’t give a rat’s ass what Hollywood thought of Toronto. Still don’t. 

But oh, how Toronto has changed! That stylish swagger you see sashaying down Queen Street says it all: Bring on the world, ‘cause the world lives here!

Which is one of the reasons I love this big, brawling, annoying city, a city I called home for thirty years. Even though I left Toronto four years ago when Bill and I retired to Belleville, I have never lost my love of the place. And I return whenever I can, in search of beauty, weirdness, and wondrous humanity.

Which is why this week’s blog posting (and next week’s, likely) will feature selections from my latest crop of Toronto photos.

Today’s photos come from a stroll through my old neighbourhood along Danforth Avenue – aka, ‘The Danforth’ – on Easter Saturday. Enjoy.

Tax return time on The Danforth

Telephone Signal Box, Greenwood Avenue

ValuMart, Danforth Avenue at Woodbine Avenue

Garage Door near Woodmount Avenue

Playground, R. H. McGregor Elementary School,

Coxwell Avenue at Sammon Avenue

Discards on Springdale Boulevard 

Faux Fur Discards on Woodmount Avenue

Paintings in Chris' dining room

Angry cat on Chris' kitchen window 

Timely reminder from a coffee shop near Woodbine Avenue

Searching for Poetry

“The purpose of poetry is to awaken sleepers 

by means other than shock.”

- Denise Levertov, American Poet

Last week, I overheard someone, somewhere utter the words, “I’m searching for poetry.” I don’t remember who, when, where, or why, but the words lodged in my subconscious and only surfaced when I came across Denise Levertov’s quotation. I’d been searching for a theme for this week’s blog post – and suddenly, there it was!  

That’s what I do with my camera – I search for poetry.

I want to do more thinking – and photography – with that thought in mind, but for the time being, today’s blog post is a first run at trying to understand photography as visual poetry. In the same manner, I believe my husband’s quilts are also visual poetry.

For today, here are ten photos than I made last week, each of which is a form of visual poetry.

Nine of the photos come from a Good Friday visit to the newly reopened Canada Museum of Science and Technology in Ottawa. What a fine museum! I thoroughly enjoyed my visit, especially because the museum was packed with hundreds of children having a great time.

The only non-museum photo is of Otis, our dear miniature longhaired dachshund, a dog that Bill saved from premature death almost seven years ago. Surely this photo of Otis sleeping qualifies as visual poetry.

I hope you enjoy the photos!

Otis