Monday, December 9, 2019

Still thinking...

I really appreciate all the support, I truly do. I am referring to the kind and thoughtful comments responding to my previous post.

This morning I was lying in bed just before sunrise with the New York Times on my iPad. I was reading an amazing story of Auschwitz survivors, a guy and a girl, who fell in love in the concentration camp, and, against all odds survived. They planned to meet in Warsaw if they survived, but it didn't work out. They finally met again only very recently in New York City. What struck me was that they were artists. She was a graphic designer, and he was a singer. Their respective arts skills played crucial roles in their survival.

It got me thinking about the role that art plays in our lives.

Susan and I collect art. It's a little bit of a joke in the family: whether we are running out of wall space (we aren't). We don't have the means to invest in major league art. Maybe not even minor league art. We are both drawn to artists who create art that isn't strictly figurative, tending towards some form of abstraction. It's hard to explain.

I want to learn art appreciation. What differentiates good art? I distinctly remember being blown away by a Riopelle abstract painting that was absolutely stunning. There was nothing figurative about it. You can go to Homesense and find abstract works for $100. That 'art' may even be overpriced.

Susan and I typically spend quite a bit more for the art we buy, in the very low four figures. Definitely minor league.

The burning question is, what makes art good and worth owning?

The answer I have so far is basically unhelpful. My measure is that art I consider to be 'good' is art that stands the test of time. In other words, I liked it when we bought it, and many years later, the painting still works for me. 'Bad' art, tends to lose its appeal quite quickly. Like the abstract Susan and I bought when we were first married. We liked it when we bought it, obviously, but within mere months we began calling it the 'pizza'. The Pizza didn't follow us to our second apartment.

Back to this morning reading the New York Times in bed.

I went from the couple from Auschwitz to John Farago's column discussing the infamous duct tape banana sculpture by Maurizio Cattelan. Mr. Farago is an art critic with a serious international reputation. Really? A banana duct taped to a wall is serious art? As I read, I was beginning to worry that all abstract or cutting edge art might all be bullshit. How sad would that make me?

So I dug into John Farago, and that took me to the Hidden Noise podcast, and a panel he moderated about how modern art intersects with blockchain. Blockchain? Now I was really concerned.

It turned out that the panelists were really very interesting. Extremely knowledgeable and thought provoking. The best by far was Sarah Meyohas and her Bitchcoin project.

In the end, my early morning reading (and listening), far from convincing me that modern art is all bogus trash hyped by vacuous and pretentious curators and critics, definitely had the potential, when it was 'good' art, to inspire me, and could certainly stand the test of time.

So much for other people's art.

What about my art?

What about my posts, what about my videos? Are they art? To me they are. Do they pass my crude test of time?

I sometimes go back to read posts I've written, or to watch my videos. I expect to wince and cringe. Often I don't. I often find I still like things I wrote years ago. My videos are still crude, and aren't close to good art, not yet, anyway.

As I lay in bed I found myself editing a video in my mind out of the footage I shot over the summer and fall. I was beginning to feel inspired.

Susan and I discussed the question of good and bad art over breakfast. I now think that what makes any art form 'good' is the degree to which it conveys a message beyond the colours, the shapes, the strokes, the words, the notes, the tune, the lyrics, the scenes, and the dialogue. Like Take five, Dave Brubeck's classic composition that I fell in love with when I was a kid. I still pause and listen when I hear it. It moved me then, and it moves me now.

Now I need to find a path back to a place where I find the time to indulge the artist in me.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

What's my excuse...

What's my excuse?

Truth is, I don't really have one.

There is no doubt that shifting from plain old posts to video posts, and changing this from a simple blog to a blog-cum-vlog really upped the ante in terms of the work required to post.

Perhaps rather than posting these thoughts here... I'll continue with a post. Maybe that will prompt me to get back to sharing my life..

[THE FOREGOING COMMENT ON THE PREVIOUS POST NOW CONTINUES AS AN ACTUAL POST...]

It's not like my life got too boring to share. Quite the reverse. A whole bunch of interesting things have happened, most of which are certainly begging to be shared here.

The fact is, that lately (by lately I mean for several months now), I frequently tell people how lucky and blessed I am.

Blogging began for me as a way of returning the favours I received when I found the inspiration and support I needed to begin a fresh chapter of my life commuting to work on a scooter. I thought someone like me might be similarly inspired to take a chance and start a new adventure if I shared my experience, so I started this blog.

Where am I now?

For one thing, as many of you know, I retired. Then I moved to Toronto from Montreal where I had lived my entire life. Then I slowly got back into the practice of law, part-time, as a means to make a little money that Susan and I could spend as we wished in retirement without a financial care in the world.

So how's that going David? [I seem to be interviewing myself now...]

It's going too well I'm afraid.

Care to explain?

My home office is amazing. Three computers, a new bookcase... it's frankly the best office I have ever had.

And how's your practice?

That's also amazing.

And there's the rub.

Since July I find that I am working full time. It's a blessing in some ways. It's challenging, rewarding, occasionally exciting (for the first time in a very long time I have actually been to court!!), and I am really enjoying it.

I admit it can be stressful, but ultimately in a good way. My efforts on behalf of my clients have been successful, and in one case I truly think that what I accomplished for my client ranks among the top five achievements of my career.

So it's all just wonderful great news, right?

Not quite.

This year, actually the last six months, while my professional work soared, my creative work hit an all-time low. As in zero, nada, zip, nothing. Well that's definitely an exaggeration. Did I mention I tweaked my home office? Added a new Billy, a Gnedby, some Ommlops, a new bridge, a remote, showcased my white porcelain flying pig in the way it deserves, bought myself a kickass new 27" iMac... there was some creativity involved there, don't you know?

But...?

Right. The creativity I promised myself I would pursue, like writing (I actually have a novel in the works that I was going to finish in retirement), sharing my thoughts here, making regular YouTube videos, well none of that is happening.

Let me digress, slightly.

Back in February, a day before Susan and I were to leave for a break in Florida, I took a tumble on my morning walk. Hit some hidden ice, crashed on my side, cracked some ribs. I still made it to Florida, but my exercise regimen came to a grinding halt. When that happens, when you break a healthy habit, it can be quite difficult getting back on track. I wasn't until mid-August, or early September, that I finally gave myself a kick in the butt and started exercising again. So far, so good.

In July I took a creative tumble. I let my busy professional life push all my creative work to the wayside. That sucks just as much as abandoning exercises. If life on the couch is bad for the body, foresaking creativity is bad for the soul. Or at least, I think it's bad for my soul. I need to claw my way back.

Hello. My name is David, and I'm a workaholic.

Hi David, welcome back. Take a seat at the keyboard and share some thoughts with us.

I'll try my best to take it one day at a time.


Monday, July 1, 2019

Go brand yourself!!


Sorry for the long absence!

This video has been in the works since February of this year. I am in awe of YouTubers who produce high quality content daily. It requires a lot of talent.

This episode is about my long-standing fascination with branding. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it.

I'll come back with more of a behind-the-scenes episode with practical advice for those of you who would like to brand your own efforts.

The video was made possible by the kind folks at StickerYou.com who provided custom decals for the vehicle graphics, and Sharon and Sam at Ink Living Color.

The incredible soundtrack is Grind by Andrew Huang, made available by the YouTube audio library.

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

A new season, a new ride

As soon as the first ABS Vespas appeared on the scene, I wanted one.

Last fall a fellow vespa addict mentioned to me that both he and his girlfriend had ABS Vespa GTSs and that it was possible they were selling them. Hers was a red 2016 model, and his was a matt grey 2018 model.

As between the two, my preference was the red GTS. The timing wasn't quite right for me, and I said I would put off a purchase to the spring.

I assumed that I had passed on both those opportunities. Oh well, I would just begin a fresh search in the spring.

A couple of months ago, my friend reached out and said that while he had decided not to sell his GTS, his girlfriend was definitely selling hers.

The challenge was that while he lives here in Toronto, his girlfriend lives in cottage country north of Montreal. The logistics proved to be a hassle: a) the April weather has been atrocious (ice storms, snow storms, massive flooding...), b) figuring out how to weave between the somewhat inconsistent motor vehicle regulations of Quebec and Ontario was a little bit of a puzzle requiring multiple phone calls to the authorities, and c) riding a GTS 550 kilometres back to Toronto from the seller's home with the atrocious weather made us reschedule the pickup.

But when the prospect of a new Vespa GTS 300 with ABS and traction control is the bait, the rest is child's play.

This morning I am tackling the last hurdle between my Vespa and its new Ontario license plate.

One unexpected and really, really useful perk with the new Vespa: dual trip odometers. They came in really handy in minimizing the number of refuelling stops on the way home. This was no pleasure ride, so I took the most direct route: ~500 kms on the 401 at ~120 kmh. The closest I came to a dry tank was when I opted not to stop in Kingston, gambling that I had enough fuel to make it to the first service centre ~20km west of the city. The low fuel light had come on, and the last bar on the digital fuel gauge had gone white.

The Vespa thirstily gobbled up 8,55 litres of premium gas: I was down to about 1 3/4 cups of gasoline. That was close.

There may be a video in the works, so stay tuned. If one gets done, it will show up here.




Tuesday, March 12, 2019

A fairytale come true


This video tells the story of a second grandchild on the way, ETA mid July.

I have been told that this little production has caused tears to flow by some members of our family. To me as the producer, that's right up there with an Academy Award.

I hope you enjoy viewing this as much a I did making it.

The musical selections for this episode are Tragic Story by Myuu, A long cold by Riot, and Hush little baby by the Green Orbs, and all are courtesy of the excellent Youtube Audio Library.

Sunday, February 10, 2019

A new beginning

It’s been a while.

My excuse is that I am only slowly coming to grips with my re-born self.

Does that sound like a little much?

I agree, it certainly does. 

Let me lay it out as clearly and accurately as I can.

From April of 1980 until June of 2015 my life had acquired a distinct pattern and become quite predictable: Susan and I lived in Montreal. I had a job downtown. I commuted from the suburbs to my job. I worked in an office tower. I practiced law. Those were the primary constants of my life.

That daily pattern stretched over those 35 wonderful years.

My yearly cycle was punctuated more or less predictably by vacation time. Early on by weeks’ vacation, that became three, then four, and ultimately five weeks.

In the course of those thirty-five years, Susan and I raised three wonderful kids. The rhythm of our lives, within the bounds of those constants, changed with time as as our children grew, in the same way as millions and millions of parents come to know and love. Eventually, one by one, those amazing kids left the nest.

That was a major adjustment, but not quite what I call a sea change. I continued to commute from the suburbs to my job. The rhythm of our lives was still punctuated by vacations.

The commute that became this blog evolved over that time as well, in very satisfying ways.

It began as public transit on buses, subways, and trains with delightful morning and evening walks serving as its bookends. Later my commute shifted to a beloved two-seater sports car that Susan was fond of telling people was “mid-life-crisis red”. Ultimately, from 2010 to 2015, I commuted on my Vespas. The latter commutes were the very best of all, and nearly every commute came with its own special trove of treats and delights, the best of which were recorded and reported here.

2015 started out that way too.

Then… in May, seismic changes began that literally shifted the landscape under our feet, and the very fabric of our lives.

First work changed. I decided in the course of a week that it was time to declare independence.

It happened like a slow-moving chain reaction. One event leading to another, and another, and another, like so many pebbles dropped one by one into a pool of still water.

I began to see that everything I had done to that point in my life were threads, paths, streams, or lines that were converging towards a very pointy intersection. The children were independent; a lifetime of diligent saving had blossomed nicely; our home was ripe for sale; for the first time I had the means to become free, truly free. 

Things happened at work that I disagreed with. Until that day I would have hunkered down, and soldiered on. But the lines all converged at that singular point, and snap!

Enough! I’m done. It stops here. That’s it! 

In the matter of an instant I became the true master of my fate.

Can you imagine?

It turned out to be the latest sea change: I was a child for six years; then a student for twenty-two long years. My career began when school came to an end in the spring of 1980.

That was the second sea change. It lasted thirty-five years. Wow!

This third sea change turned out to be massive. Much bigger, much more compelling, than those that preceded.

Overnight, no commute. Slam! No job. Wham! Bam!

Then… our kids started getting married. 2015, 2016, 2018: Snap! Crack! Kaboom!!! What a spectacle!! It was amazing!

We sold our house: Whoosh! 

We moved. 500 kilometers away, to Toronto: Flash! New city; new neighbourhood; new house! Bang! Pop!

It was a three-year rolling earthquake, with tremors, after-shocks, and joyous upheaval! Did I mention we became grandparents?

Nothing prepares you for what happens when there’s a sea change.

It was spectacular, truly spectacular. 

Then, like kids rushing and spinning down a white-water slide on brightly coloured inner tubes on a sparkling summer day, the current slowed and we drifted into a peaceful eddy, a new normal.

A beautiful new home, in a new exciting city.

It was as if Susan and I had cast the past aside, plowed our field with deep furrows, and planted new seeds.

The new normal started to set in as the seeds began to sprout. Susan got a job, and then, against all odds, my career began again. A new law firm, a fresh round of Bar exams, and just like that, I am back in private practice. Wow! 

Expressing what living this change has been like is a challenge.

Now that I am taking stock, I can see that it has been a little like Alice in Wonderland, or the Wizard of Oz. Like everything you knew, everything you thought would never change, all the places that defined your life, all the familiar faces, scenes and landscapes, the people, the sights, the sounds, even the tastes and familiar scents, all shifted and swirled like bouncing beams of light in a huge kaleidoscope.

All that swirling change, all that energy later, and here I am, in my new normal.

It’s calm. It’s comfortable. It’s very nice. The rhythms of this new life are just beginning to define themselves. By most measures, life is wonderful.

I see it as the essence of life on two wheels. It’s the fruit of taking chances, of having the courage to stake a claim, to shake things up, to spin the giant wheel of life. The process can be a little unsettling, even scary at times. It’s ultimately deeply satisfying.

What does all this mean for this journal, this Life on Two Wheels?

The blog and the vlog are aspects of the landscape that have been taken along for the ride, shaken and spun in the glorious upheaval, though you could be forgiven for not noticing.

This story began as an exploration of my commute when it shifted to two wheels. It blossomed to follow my explorations further afield, meeting new friends, experiencing a little far-flung adventure.

What role should it play in the new normal? What does it become now that I work from home and my new commute is climbing flights of stairs three floors up to my office? What is the new message, the theme? What will it offer now?

These are the questions I have been asking myself for the past several months as the pace of new posts here has come close to zero.

In many ways I am becoming a new person.

The 2018 Bar exams were like a rebirth for me. A challenge that required all of my energy and intelligence on so many levels. When the deed was done, crowned with success, I was spent. Physically and emotionally spent.

It has taken physiotherapy to cure the resulting physical kinks, an excursion into philosophy to settle and align my spirit, a diet to trim accumulated pounds, and exercise to strengthen my body. 

These new habits are tiny life-seeds that are just beginning to sprout.

My wish is that Life on Two Wheels will become the story of this new life. The exploration of a new city and all it has to offer, explaining how the changes Susan and I have made continue to transform our lives and bear fruit beyond what we imagined on that day in June of 2015 when the threads, furrows, streams of fate, and lines began to converge, shimmer, quiver, and spark at the intersection setting in motion the reaction that completely changed our world.

Let’s see if I can make it work, for both of us.
The copyright in all text and photographs, except as noted, belongs to David Masse.