Robert L. Peters

16 November 2010

A salute: Louis Riel (1844-1885)

Winnipeg, Manitoba

Louis David Riel was a Canadian politician (elected three times to the Canadian House of Commons, although he never assumed his seat), the leader of the Métis people of the prairies, and is considered to be the true founder of the province of Manitoba (in these parts he’s now regarded as our greatest folk hero). Today marks 125 years since he was hung for treason… his body is buried here in the churchyard of Saint-Boniface Cathedral.

“My people will sleep for one hundred years,
but when they awake, it will be the artists

who give them their spirit back.”

—Louis Riel

Laughter… the best medicine. (allegedly)

Winnipeg Beach, Manitoba

This is one of a series of 25 “What?” greeting-cards we designed for Evelin Richter’s studio, What? Clay Art & Curios, two years ago (cards range from nonsensical and cheeky to puzzlingly contemplative). See a few more here.

15 November 2010

Mother Tongue… two weeks left to submit

Montreal, Canada

Just a reminder that the submission deadline for INDIGO’s Mother Tongue exhibition is two weeks from now—1 December 2010.

14 November 2010

Delightful vintage collection…

(from Facebook—who knew?)

Today I chanced across a lovely collection of Vintage Advertising and Poster Art, here. Much, much, more along the lines of the thumbnails above at the site… enjoy.

12 November 2010

Yup, it really is true…

Manitoba, Canada

Three days ago I joined some 500 million others who already use Facebook. The jury’s still out on whether or not this was a good decision (apologies to those who have steadfastly warned me against this), but “what’s done is done”… unless of course I decide to bail ship. (On the bright side, I can hardly be accused of being an early adopter).

In case you’d care to connect in that strange new world of ever-lowering common denominators, you can find me here.

I like a good metaphor…

(from across the USA)

Every year, English teachers from across the United States submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays. These excerpts are published to the amusement of teachers across the country. Following is this year’s compendium…

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. Instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. Traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. At a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighbourhood with picket fences that resembled Halle Berry’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

+  +  +  +  +

Thanks to climbing friend Len Chackowsky (via his Facebook post) for the above source. Yes, it’s true… after holding out for years I have finally succumbed and am now on Facebook myself as of just over two days ago—still pretty clueless however, and confused by the non-intuitive user interface and navigation inconsistencies.

11 November 2010

Pavlovian inversion…

(original source)

10 November 2010

Mostly femme fatales and noir…


“She batted them pretty little eyes at you, and you fell for it
like an egg from a tall chicken!” —Charade, 1963 

9 November 2010

On sustainability…

Vancouver, Canada

Eric Karjaluoto posted a thoughtful piece on Sustainability today on his blog ideasonideas, worth reading here. Among other things, he questions “ownership” and the burdens that come with it… and he closes as follows:

“One of the things we do own is our legacy. Long after we’re worm food, the things we’ve done, said, thought, and fought for, will remain. A rental culture is better in tune to this actuality than one locked in in the illusion of ownership.

Your decision to give back to your community will impact the lives of others. Your decision to not drive a car will extend our species’ stay on the planet, and the quality of it. Your choice to do more than collect a private mountain of riches will afford you time to consider the needs of others and seek to understand them. This last point will pay out greater dividends than owning any object adorned with a “desirable” logo. (For what it’s worth, when I see a Louis Vuitton handbag, I’m not impressed; I just see a sucker. Same goes for your BMW).

All of us, from the dawn of time to the end of our existence (and beyond) are connected. We’re all drawing from the same pool, which means you can’t actually own anything. Such a notion is solely a remnant of a less sophisticated and socially evolved time. That being said, you can experience almost anything, and if you’re crafty, may never even have to pay for some of it.

Isn’t that infinitely better?”

Off belay…

Winnipeg, Canada

Since I quite like both cats and climbing, re-posting this image (original source unknown) was a natural… as is this buildering kitty. Note the fine technique—moving from a layback along the long vertical arête… to an under-cling… to delicate face moves. As with most climbing, however, the answer to the question “why” remains unclear…

Thanks to friend Gerald Brandt for the image.

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