going for gold

Dear xxxxx

i've always thought you were a good writer.
it's overcast today here in whitehorse..just like vancouver. it's NEVER like that here. it NEVER rains. the sun is always shining brilliant.
oh well. a nice change. because i love the rain and i love gray overcast skies. But i only like it sometimes. Not every single day for weeks on end.

i just did a neat graphic job for an art centre in norway. i love the internet.
TouScene is in Stavanger, Norway. A place that has been deemed the 'European Capital of Culture'. I'm going.
The very nice man - Simon A. Kjaer - who hired me found me thru the Graniph website out of Tokyo. I've done a few designs for them. Graniph is always having contests so I keep entering (so dorkie) because they keep coming my way (superdork). I've won three times in the last three months. ALL BRONZE. How is this possible? i was going for gold. i was going for god.

two seconds ago i just sent away two jehovah's witnesses. I feel bad. they were older ladies..but they seemed okay when i said, 'i'm sorry. i'm not interested..but good luck'..and i gave them a thumbs up. That was a strange intuitive response. I think it was my apologetic tone that made it okay..because i truly meant it. It must be so hard going door-to-door. That would be like me going to door-to-door trying to get people to listen to my favourite band. You will LOVE Heart. I swear, it will change your life and i just want to share that..'

i was raised roman catholic..church every sunday with just me and my grandpa..(and cathecism on wednesdays after school).. full-on latin mass - the Irish priest - Father MacNamara in his beautiful robes with his back to the congregation. it was scary and romantic and totally boring*. i would sneak in books to read - betty and veronicas...discreetly eating candy..Eventually I learned the entire mass book by heart. I could repeat everything: "Lamb God/Take away the sins of the world...' i sat by myself because my grandpa Hilaire sang upstairs with the choir. I was easily the youngest person there. Everyone else had white or gray hair. After mass I had to pay my respects to Father MacNamara. I liked him very much. He would give my hair a tug and give me a handful of change and tell me to go buy a car. My cathechism latin name was "sonaria". In the church basement there were framed text pieces in olde english font reading: 'Easy Does It'.

My dad thought the whole thing was hilarious. He's an atheist. Curiously, i was the only family member forced to go to church. My brother never went. My dad joked it was because i was 'evil'. Easy does it, dad.

i know what you mean about email. it's too fast. if i had it my way - i'd have my letters hand-delivered by horse.


*one of my favourite bored church stories is the day i was wearing my retainer and flipping it around in my mouth. I was able to master the fine art of doing 360s till it popped out of my mouth in the middle of mass and skidded across the floor under several pews. I was completely mortified and shamed. After mass, a nice gentleman came up to me with his palm extended offering me back my retainer.