Friday and Saturday I bicycled around my city, Windsor, Ontario, Canada...
At the Green Room meeting Wednesday night, I gave a speech about better, fairer, inclusive organizing to 50 freedom folks, give or take a few. I was exceptionally furious (for more very good recent reasons), flustered, not feeling very articulate, yet managed to get through half of my several pages of bullet points before cutting myself short to keep it tight and get the fuck out of there before I exploded. Besides my overly self-critical performance, I didn't act poorly or say anything I regret. An outburst wouldn't have helped me, those who upset me, nor the community, and would only cause confusion, particularly in those attending with no contextual understanding of the year and a half of problematic history with dozens and dozens of examples. The last thing we need is division and picking sides, yet they've forced me, and others, and I'm finally firmly shifting my own personal paradigm of resistance action away from our local hierarchical Queen Currie and Rob Show bullshit at the Green Room. I suspect my personal change may be part of a larger collective shift within several of our communities too - especially with some of the things lining up.
I've asked for feedback, good, bad, or ugly, but I only heard good things about my talk, and that some folks were very impressed with many of my ideas. This is good I guess, in that I didn't come across to anyone as out of control, like I felt. I just hope they feel as free to openly criticize me (as I do everything else). I'd rather know the reality than have my feelings protected. If folks knew before that talk what was going on, perhaps they could have read more into it beyond my stated loathing of public speaking seeming nervous (but equally livid). I can't improve my messaging, if I'm not aware of things to improve. As rough as it felt, I guess no bad news is by default good news.
Cycling through our consumerist suburbia Friday morning, I was surprised to see this crossing a bridge...
Swans, saturated & cropped.
Swans, uncropped, with GIMP saturation +100 +50.
Swans, without any post-processing.
I spent all Friday morning into the afternoon one-on-one talking with Sophia, a do-er not a talker, running in our next municipal election (ran for the New Blue Party in May), discussing the freedom movement, our problematic "leaders", control groups, parties, and deep local dirty politics and corruption that blew my fucking mind. (Wished we'd connected like this months ago.) We're going to draft up some explosive conspiracy speculations, facts, and exposes to publish online and spread via social media - and maybe do a video or few on it, along with videos on other recent local crimes (ie. euthanizing cancer patients "because of COVID").
Friday afternoon I harvested John's garden (no image enhancement) (much more harvesting to come) and supervised him, cooking, our, steamed salad.
Was busy all day Saturday and now find I didn't take any photos. Bicycled to downtown where we had a wonderful picnic BBQ and Sanctuary meeting at the flag. Then I cycled to go gardening and for dinner again after I experienced my first time ever shooting a gun (pellet), not at pesky garden-eating squirrels, but at marker-drawn targets on coffee cans from 60 feet (one a bullseye pattern, one a cartoon Trudeau). Due mostly to me paying attention to directions given in a lot of movies, it turns out I'm an excellent shot, and despite that distance the inch-wide target as a smudge to me, the center was easy enough glean. Maybe when I go back I'll take photos of the targets. Then last night was the New Blue social with drinks into the early hours. I've decided I'm going to get back on the wagon after this big Labour Day weekend.
In lieu of yesterday's photos, I'll share some I took last Tuesday walking with Winton and his dog. Apparently Windsor claims to have one of the two permanent open-air art galleries in the world. Problematically most of the sculptures are ugly, funded by rich people with no taste - likely pork-barrel corrupt city projects. Worse, the city spends a fortune on maintenance and cleaning off graffiti. To the point, here is an ugly statue I though SaidIt folks might like and that I call "The Blind Leading The Blind" - and I just looked it up to find it's actually called "Flying Men". Note their "Satanic" feet, a stones throw from the goat waterfountain, "Billy Goat Spring".