The Bible has as much to say about faithful, loving, consensual relationships between same-sex partners as it has to say about airplanes and iPhones.

In ancient Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and Aramaic, there simply were no words for such a concept. Two questionable terms are used (malakoi and arsenokoitai), but a definition is almost never given.

In the few cases it is defined, it specifically refers to rape, incest, adultery, shrine prostitution, bestiality, non-procreative sex, slavery, murder, or extortion — entirely separate issues, which should not be conflated with this modern question of marriage.

It’s time for church leaders to stop wilfully misrepresenting re-re-re-translated scripture in order to sanctify their own hatreds and fears, then surrender their tiny notion of God, make peace with this reality of nature, and stop inspiring this emotional (and sometimes physical) violence toward gay and lesbian people.

Tonight while I ate my dinner (bad timing), I watched a documentary about an English taxi driver who allowed a team of Egyptologists, in tandem with forensics experts, to mummify him when he died.

The program was fascinating, of course, because it took a lot of time showing a dead body — that great taboo in our society (cartoonist Lucy Knisley did a great riff on that today in her Hallowe’en comic).

The scientists were pretty geeky, but the whole team treated the man’s corpse with a lot of dignity — which felt a little odd, as I got the impression from the pictures of his past and from his wife’s description that he didn’t take much care of his body (every photo showed him with a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, and he died of lung cancer, so my automatic judgment motors whirred into action pretty quick at that).

My other impression is that about 70% of the narrative could have been cut out and no information would have been lost. (I kept thinking, “Yeah, I get it.”)

I’m having that thought a lot lately, that most of what’s said could be left unsaid. That’s a dangerous line of thinking for a copywriter, and it’s also keeping me pretty muzzled as an artist. Either life is so grand that I feel it’s beyond capturing (cf: today’s great waves), or there doesn’t seem to be a point in trying.

As I typed that, though, I was struck by the notion of sharing. I do get a lot of pleasure and insight from other people sharing their perceptions and ruminations about life.

Inspired by Lucy Knisley‘s awesome talent and copious output, plus her fun travelogue how-to video, I finally made the time to sketch-blog this morning.

I often wonder about the ‘quality’ or refinement issue in making books by hand. It’s not about being lazy, but other people I’ve taught instantly made more squared-off and tidier-looking books than mine and I’m okay with that. Still, I keep coming back to the question of whether I should be trying to make them look perfect.

I aspire to keep learning more and more about this craft, but I’m most interested in these books as useful things first rather than art objects. They’re places for storing and retrieving ideas and plans — an invitation to think and dream. Plus, I think people really like the hand-made look. I’m honestly tempted to just make everything out of kraft paper!

Case in point: This morning during some hard drive data hell, I used my offline time to sketch out ideas for next year’s day-planner. Now that I look at them, though, I feel moved to use something just like them rather than “fix” them on the computer and make tidy, bland pastel versions of these pages.

I like cooking because I like activities in which I can make constant improvements and refinements. “Make it better!” and “Fit it!” seem to be my driving forces.

Yesterday, I made smoked paprika almonds to take along for breaks (in a little cardboard packet I’ve made, of course), and in the evening I made chocolate frozen yogurt with the ice cream maker Craig gave me for my birthday. It turns out home-made ice cream tends to freeze solid; the trick is the fat content (or cups and cups of sugar, which I’m not going to use), so I’ve been playing with thickeners, but yogurt did the trick, being fatty enough to not just turn into sweet ice!

Meanwhile, I’ve got two craft shows coming up in the next couple of months, so I’ll have material for “Show-and-Tell” here on the blog soon. Two thoughts:

1. How am I about being in “craft” fairs? There’s some snobbery about the difference between hobbies and arts, and crafting blurs those. I guess why it jangles my nerves a little is that I like making things that are useful, not just cute or decorative. But, hey, what’s wrong with beautiful things?
2. If anyone finds this website, it’s for the book-stuff, so I don’t know if it adds dimension or if it’s just annoying when I go off-topic.

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I’ve been feeling run-down lately. I was starting to worry that I was malnourished from how I’ve been eating, or it was depression from all the people around me being mortally ill. It all gets under your skin after a bit, and really felt like depression did — no oomph to get going, finding myself staring off into the middle distance, that kind of thing. Except I wasn’t sad.

I don’t know why, but today I’ve got my energy back, and boy am I glad! It feels so good — partly to be back on top of Maslov’s pyramid where I can think and plan and make stuff, and partly for the relief of knowing there isn’t anything wrong with me!

Maybe it’s just the change of seasons.

This mortal life is weird, being teamed up with a body whose workings I’m not privy to.

I’m posting pictures from our UK wedding party as they come in:

http://tiny.cc/HCwed

Our “official” photographer, Chris, was on hand to capture the day — a walk up to the Wallace Monument, our own private film screening at the McRobert Arts Centre, then an afternoon tea at the Stirling Management Centre.

As much of a hassle as it was to organise the event — neither Craig nor I is naturally good at such things — we had a great time on the day, which was a great reminder of our relationship to each other and to our community. What a great bunch of warm, caring, and fun people!

My UK wedding day was last Saturday. After months of making plans and changing plans according to the astronomical charts that determine family availability, our day went really well — so much so that we had fun, too! My friend Chris took pictures, so I’ll be posting those soon, along with any other photos that get sent our way by people who were there.

My birthday yesterday started out wonderfully, with breakfast in bed served by my husband in a birthday suit (hee!). After work, he took me to The Whaligoe Steps Café, a new little restaurant beside a set of 365 stone stairs leading down to an abandoned fishing inlet.

The meal was great, the chef very friendly, and we were absolutely stuffed by the end of dinner. Best of all was sitting across from my husband, sharing the moment, both of us moved to tears by just how much we like each other.

Back home, we still managed to shove down some of the healthy cake I’d made in the afternoon. (Yes, there is such a thing! It’s a coconut flour cake with orange icing.) My birthday present was an ice cream maker — woohoo! Now I can make yet another healthy version of something I thought I’d have to do without. As I type, there’s a batch of coconut and soy milk ice cream churning away for consumption later with tasty leftover birthday cake!

And now I’m older.

Forty-three is unimaginable, not because it’s bad, but because I can very easily remember sitting in class in Grade Six mind-boggled by the idea of one day being forty — the post-millennial date, the notion of myself as an adult, and the freedom from having to go to school.

The actuality of forty-three is daunting, but wonderful in the living of it. I’m a happy man.



Walking to the café, I passed an opening in an old stone building.
I looked in through the arch,
surprised it was so big on the inside.
The biggest surprise, the smell,
a cloud of oil-memories:
train stations,
railroad tracks,
ferry rides,
a tour of the coalmine where my grandfather worked.

Looking in, no evident source.

So often, no evident source.

I’m in one of those periods where I just want to read and research and buy things and don’t seem to have it in me to bring anything creative forth. It’s uncomfortable, but I guess this is the seasonal nature of these things.

I wish I could turn the computer off more. It’s half magic wand, half stupid-ray.

And this business of people dying and being seriously ill is frightening. I feel like I’m clinging to Craig while the world falls apart, and I don’t even want to acknowledge the thought that comes after that.

It’s not as bad as it sounds, because there’s a bigger context than this that I mostly believe in, except when I doubt it and get scared.