Haus of Margot Pollo: Monza Babe

Favorite scarf does the trick. Montreal/ 2011

Dear Marj, I felt your spirit all around me this evening in a room full of people from all walks of life. There was a small powwow around a large drum, strong rhythm and unexpected beauty in the rise of five male voices, strawberries dipped in chocolate, red wine, a circuit of art, loads of characters, and strong photography of a great project documented and hand-printed by Chris. I was cameraless, but shooting all the while. One of those nights. You would have been proud. You were proud, fiercely so. I felt it within and all around me physically as the first piercing call filled that basement on St. Matthews. I was seated beside a woman from the Winnipeg Arts Council and when she asked who I was I felt starstruck without knowing who she was or how to answer. Eee boy. Those beautiful crumpling moments always remind me to push harder for what I know I am capable of deep down. She got away before I could corner her, but I left on Craig's arm feeling strong and inspired. I heard myself say to another woman this evening that I do my best work in the summertime. What a load of horseshit! Straight from the horses mouth! I do great work when I feel like it, therein lies the rub. To stuff this theory right back where it came from I got down to work on a new stencil. The moon is (near) full. With the energy gathered from the evening, I ceremoniously sharpened my favorite pencils (Ralph Lauren included, Chanel) with a real deal carbon blade and got to work setting up the Monza Babe in the empty half of my house. Her hot ass has been lying around for too long. Time to get moving Sister. I live alone these days. Lisa has left with the warm winds and them geese and while I miss her laughter ringing through the house, the quiet is appreciated. It suits the season and it suits me just fine. Birth of Winter, hi ho hi ho. Autumn has been slow and gentle this time 'round. Deliberate moves have been made to slow down all modes and in this transition I am noticing much more. The mighty river for one. Leaves and their patterns. This old neighborhood. Light. Darkness. The lot of it. Adios lost woman in the heavy coat and that eye in the sky too, how I would have loved to stroll arm in arm with you through a parking lot this evening discussing all that we witnessed. Proud photographers in an interesting room.