“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010I wasn’t sure what I was doing with this piece. I had no plan, just a ladle and a desire to dollop on lots of wax. Later I added smaller blobs with a brush and applied fake-jewel stickers.
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
“Nightmare Tracks” by Catherine Raine, 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010“Sushi Wax Cake” keeps on giving! This current piece, “Inner Map (Non-Political)” was inspired by the huge pile of shavings from the wax cake. I simply arranged the shavings on the support and melted them down again. Much was the scraping, scratching, ironing, re-shaping, and heat-gunning. I also did a little brush work here and there.
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010
Inner Map (Non-Political) by Catherine Raine, 2010After more than six years of service, I recently resigned from an organization which helps survivors of torture and war. It was a tough decision, and I’m going to miss my students a lot.
I’d like to re-dedicate the following poem to them. I wrote it in 2007, and it was published in the Winter 2009 edition of First Light.
Invisible Twin
(A Poem for CCVT Students )
Trauma lives in your skin
an invisible twin,
a poison guest,
a walking monster of a story.
The demons that stalk you evade photographs
and only you can say where they keep the keys to your cell.
But an attentive friend can apprehend,
around the corners of conversations,
pale threads of the shroud that veils your suffering.
Your shadow reveals his choices
when you sit where you can check who enters the room,
when the words loss, lost, have lost
and death, dead, have died
pitch you into a private hell.
A tragedy we read in The Toronto Star
sets the ghosts to whispering “Remember, remember!”
what you want with all your strength to forget.
Quick to take offense,
your pain flashes out in bitter responses
that the sensible call extreme
but the sensitive know
arise from the depths of your rage
at the cruelty of dogmatists, thugs, criminals in uniform.
Trauma haunts you but also gives courage a voice,
exhaling stories that pull you to the surface,
intact and shining with resilience.
I knew right away I was going to like the new Cedarbrae Library when a bird man on stilts waved his fuzzy rainbow duster of welcome at me. With a ukulele strapped on his back and wild tufts animating his head, the bird man was giving everybody very high fives (so high they had altitude).
Tabla drums and sitar beats greeted me once I got inside, the notes floating down from the second floor. The sitar musician was Prosad, whose card advertised Yoga Trance Dance and Sitar at Corporate Functions. I grooved gently to the music while I gathered my wits in the Urban Living Room beside a glass wall.
The size of the crowd was impressive but not overwhelming. With 31,500 square feet of room to manoeuvre, the new space was up to the challenge of accommodating so many eager Cedarbrae returnees. From their expressions, the general response was pleasure and excitement. One woman who saw me taking pictures remarked, “It took so long (to reopen) that it had to be the Taj Mahal of libraries. And it is the Taj Mahal of libraries.”
In addition to the vocal praise-givers, I really liked the patrons who simply flomped down and began reading in the new armchairs, ignoring the speeches, the buffet, and all the hoopla. For me, these quiet folks were the true heart of the ceremony, settling deeper into the shiny upholstery to savour the library they had missed.
The kids also lost no time in claiming their rightful place in the fantastic KidsStop area. To step from ordinary carpet onto a floor of rippling blue water was to be transported under the wooden roof of a river boat into a magical realm. In this world, you can read inside an elephant, find jungle animals on the wall, follow a path of pebbles and riverbeds, construct a giant tower with foam blocks, or curl up in a nook to call up a story on the phone.
The children were having a big time trying out the learning games attached to the sides of the river boat. One of the neatest activities I saw was an illuminated box with a pen that used light instead of ink. I also liked the cushions and soft furniture which called out “Come read a book on me!”
Next to the lively KidsStop was a long banquette situated in front of a huge window overlooking the program room. People kept running over to the window, catching sight of a major food preparation scene in progress, and exclaiming, “It’s food! Let’s go get in line!”
Watching the unfolding buffet operation became quite the spectator sport. A number of kids took to kneeling on the cushioned bench as they observed librarians peeling back yards of aluminum foil to reveal pans of rice and samosas. By five o’clock, the queue stretched from the locked program room door to the middle of the lobby. When I returned to the area thirty minutes later, only rice and fruit punch were left, and a jolly group of eaters now occupied the new red stage and the tiers leading up to it. The featured afternoon matinée was titled “Sitting and Standing with Heaped Paper Plate!”
I wasn’t hungry, so I headed upstairs to avoid the chaos of the program room. It was much quieter on the second level, and all the extra space gave me a peaceful feeling. I was also impressed by the range of multilingual materials (which was matched by the Children’s collection). Here’s what they had: Bengali, Hindi, Persian, Gujurati, Chinese, French, Urdu, Tagalog, Tamil, Polish, and Korean. Gazing at these shelves, the poetry selection for the Poetry is Public is Poetry installation made a lot of sense: “A man packed a country in a suitcase with his shoes and left” (“Exile” by Rosemary Sullivan).
Other treasures of the upper floor included a local history room with the proper archival vibe, three study rooms alive to infinite possibility, and a Teen Zone with a long wavy black sofa already inhabited by conversing teenagers. I was also happy to see a gorgeous lounge and an extensive CD collection.
Comparing this successfully-renovated branch to the one where I had taken my 2003-2004 LINC classes to get their library cards, the place was unrecognizable. Inside and out, the new Cedarbrae Library has to be one of the best-looking buildings in this corner of Scarborough.
It was dark when I finally left the party. I turned around to take a few last pictures and was dazzled by the literal and figurative light pouring from the library.
Let me introduce you to “River Beast.” This painting was my first attempt at encaustic art, and recently I tried to improve it. The central blue beast has many layers, including bits of textured paper covered by melted wax shavings from “Sushi Wax Cake.”
River Beast by Catherine Raine, 2010
River Beast by Catherine Raine, 2010My encaustic class has finished, so I’ve been spending some time doctoring up the seven pieces I started there. Here’s the latest one, “Tropical Mermaid.”
Tropical Mermaid by Catherine Raine, 2010For the outline of the wax mermaid, I placed a magazine picture of a reclining model on the beeswax-coated wooden base. Then I traced the photo in black wax and pulled the paper away. I filled in the mermaid with green and red plus a nice brown blob for the face.
Tropical Mermaid by Catherine Raine, 2010For the sun’s rays, I used curls of wax that I’d shaved off from another piece, “Sushi Wax Cake.” The flower petals and the base of the mermaid’s crown also come from former shavings. Finally, I rolled up more shavings from “Sushi Wax Cake” into little blobs to make the wavy shapes and the nodules on the crown.
Tropical Mermaid by Catherine Raine, 2010
Tropical Mermaid by Catherine Raine, 2010
Tropical Mermaid by Catherine Raine, 2010This mermaid has left Toronto winter far behind her!
I was sitting in my armchair putting stickers on a parcel when my husband read me the on-line news about the cross-bow attack at Main Street Library. I felt shocked and angry that anybody would bring violence into a library, which is a sacred place of learning and peace. The last time I was at Main Street branch, I took a picture of a lobby lined with strollers. How could a person commit a heinous crime in front of the innocent eyes of children and their families? How will they ever feel safe in the library again now that it has been desecrated in this monstrous way? My thoughts and prayers are with the victim, his family, and the witnesses to this horror.
Additional note: After reading more about this case, I understand that the victim’s family is one and the same as the killer’s family. Could there be a more dramatic example of the damage caused by domestic abuse? In my view, it makes the crime more comprehensible though not justifiable. I’m still saddened and sickened by the traumatic scene witnessed in the library, but would like to send out a prayer to all victims of family violence.
Sushi Wax Cake by Catherine Raine, 2010Would you like to eat this cake? Tempting but not recommended!
Sushi Wax Cake by Catherine Raine, 2010
Sushi Wax Cake by Catherine Raine, 2010To make this poured wax piece, I constructed four walls for the border (using strips of wax), made some barriers in different shapes in the middle, and then poured in mixtures of paint and wax. Later I ironed the surface and scraped some layers off the top. (Shavings shown below!)
Pile of Wax Shavings from Sushi Wax CakeIn addition to the wax heap, I was fascinated by some of the individual curls of wax that the scraper produced.
Wax Curls!
More Wax Curls!
And Yet More Wax Curls!