Plucky Todmorden Room (1961), My 60th Branch!

Located inside East York Community Recreation Centre, Todmorden Room is the smallest branch of the 98. With a maximum capacity of 33 people, the modest size of this facility gave it extra charm, a welcome throw-back to a friendlier, slower era before automated check-out desks and big city anonymity.

The main desk of Todmorden Room was directly in front of the entrance, and my husband Stewart was struck by how the librarian greeted each incoming patron by name. Even though there were only eight people in the library (including two staff members), we kept tripping over each other as we moved up and down the two short aisles.

The only multilingual resource I noticed was a Spanish learning kit with a CD, and the ESL collection had fourteen books (hardly the fault of library with so little space to spare).

As at Woodside Square and Bridlewood, the romance genre was well-represented at Todmorden Room, and it included a couple of titles that caught my fancy: “Kidnapped by the Cowboy” and “Outback Boss, City Bride.” I hope the city bride and the cowboy’s love hostage brought their feminist theory texts with them to the countryside.

As I exited the room, I noticed a cream-coloured locker beside the check-out desk, possibly a hand-me-down from the gym down the hall. I liked how the library seemed to be a well-integrated part of the community centre, which also offered swimming and martial arts classes. The librarian told me that families often coordinate their trips to the library around activities at the centre. Way to go, plucky Todmorden Room!

(Note: the text of this post dates to my first visit in 2009, but the photos were taken in 2012)

Eleven Letters from Eric from 1986 to 2002

The collages pictured here are the first in a series that takes inspiration from eleven letters written by my hometown friend Eric Canuteson. He wrote the first one in 1986, and the last one I received arrived in 2002 before e-mail took over as our means of correspondence.

Last December, I was devastated to learn that Eric suffered an untimely death at age 43. I had trouble believing that the teenager I had passed notes to during Greek and Roman History could be gone. His friendship meant a great deal to me, and I wanted to honor his memory with an art project that incorporated actual text from the letters and images, people, and places he described.

Preserving examples of Eric’s handwriting feels really important. Messy, scratchy, sprawling – I love the way he always wrote his name in really huge letters at the end. He also was a great one for circling or putting boxes around important phrases and doodling in the margins. They are the letters of a busy, dedicated person who has taken the time to share his thoughts with a friend. I’ll always be grateful to Eric for that.

Before I started this project, I photocopied the letters because I couldn’t bear to tear up the originals. I also gathered up as many images as I could that seemed relevant to the letters’ context.

The first collage takes its theme from the first letter Eric ever sent me. He had just started his freshman year at Colorado College and I was in my last year in high school. Postmarked September 24, 1986, it describes his classes, first term paper, and grades. He also asked me to pass on some messages to his former teachers, including a tongue-in-cheek summary of his political views.

Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012
Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I used the actual postmark from the envelope for this collage. The postmark and the political figures Eric mentions place our friendship in historical context, providing an example of how letters are both cherished personal souvenirs and valuable documents that give us a snapshot of an era. It seems an obvious point, but it still astonishes me that Eric’s first letter existed in a world before South African apartheid ended, before the Berlin Wall fell, before Clinton (sandwiched between the elder and junior George Bush), before 9/11, and before Obama.

Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I am a Liberal and always have been one.

Reagan Sucks.

Rehnquist Sucks (Rightquest)

Death to Fascism.

Daniel Monion is a joke. (It took me awhile to figure out that Eric was referring to Daniel Moynihan. It didn’t help that I didn’t remember who he was).

Support the ANC!

I hate Republican business majors.

There aren’t any here, thank God.

Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I really like how he put the title “Mr.” in quotation marks next to his name. At age 18, maybe he didn’t comfortably inhabit the title Mr. Eric Canuteson, so he left the “Mr.” outside the box he drew around his new contact details.

Eric’s Excellent Intellectual Adventure, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The same letter of September 24, 1986 testifies to Eric’s academic success in his crucial first year of college. With Eric’s ambitious spirit and fierce intelligence, he laid a strong foundation to later complete his Ph.D.

I was impressed by Eric’s go-getter attitude in all the years I knew him, but that’s not to say he couldn’t be laid back, too. I loved the part in the letter where he admits he put off writing his paper to watch an Eagles versus Bears football game.

Eagles Versus Bears, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I got a B+ on my very first college paper (I wrote it in a very short time because I was watching football.)

An arrow starting from the letter “a” in football points to the words “Eagles v. Bears” floating in the space above the first line of the letter.

Eagles Versus Bears, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The letter goes on to describe how he received an A on his final test.

I got the highest grade in the class — there were only two A’s. By the way, My class is SATIRE AND CARICATURE.

I’m taking Russian (7 hours of it, no less) in the 5th and 6th blocks. (Colorado College’s block program allows its students to focus intensely on one class at a time in a series of eight blocks a year).

Eagles Versus Bears, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The next letter arrived in April 1987 and introduced me to Eric’s love of Pink Floyd.

The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I listen to Pink Floyd all the time. I’m doing so right now. The album The Final Cut.

The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I always enjoyed it when Eric told me where he was or what he was listening to while he was writing his letters. It helped me feel connected to his reality even though he lived far away.

The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The Song is awesome. “Not Now John.” The song is about making a movie.

The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

“Who cares what it’s about as long as the kids (go).”

 The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The opening line is “Fuck all that, we’ve got to get on with these.”

The Final Cut, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Eric’s next paragraph in the April, 1987 letter turns its attention to another Pink Floyd album, the iconic Dark Side of the Moon. He describes the songs as “very political and philosophical.”

Dark Moon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Dark Side of the Moon is a very good album. It’s about death and depression (The “dark side” of human nature.)

All That You Touch, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012

One of the songs has the classic line, “All that you touch and all that you see is all that your life will ever be.”

All That You Touch, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012

Pink Floyd tends to be very gloomy, but I like it.

Dark Moon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

A lot of people hear listen to The Grateful Dead. I’ve heard some Dead but I don’t like it too much. Looks like I’m not going to be a “Dead Head.”

Dark Moon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

By the way, Dark Side of the Moon ends with a faint voice in the background who states, “There is no dark side of the Moon really; as a matter of fact, it’s all dark.” Isn’t that awesome?

All That You Touch, Collage by Catherine Raine, 2012

I’ve got to go. Love, Eric.

Eric’s next letter arrived a few months later. It’s shorter than most because he was in the middle of his freshman year finals. The shape of his letters show what a hurry he was in, many of them blending together, such as the way the top of the “t” in Catherine stretches to touch the top of the “h.” The calligraphy of swiftness.

Have to Study for My Physics Final, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Catherine,

I don’t have much time to write because I really have to study for my Physics final. I haven’t done any homework for the class and I’m about 300 page(s) behind.

Have to Study for My Physics Final, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I feel bad about not writing you. I like you a lot and consider you a very good friend. I hope you realize that. I just noticed that every sentence in this letter begins with “I.”  Oh, well.

I Have to Study for My Physics Final, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Do you like The Who? I think they are awesome. The reason I’m writing is because I was listening to “Behind Blue Eyes.” Have you heard the song? It reminded (me) of the conversations we used to have about me . . . . “No one knows what it’s like to be the Bad Man/to be the Sad Man/Behind Blue Eyes.”

Have to Study for My Physics Final, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Do you know where you are going to school for sure yet? Write back if you want — otherwise I’ll talk to you this summer. Love, Eric

Turning to the next year and a new letter, Eric wrote about a 1988 college field trip to The Grand Canyon, and since I happened to be in Arizona recently, I raided the tourist leaflets at the Phoenix airport, gathering as many images as I could to illustrate a letter dated March 8th. (The text you see in this collage comes from a photocopy dyed with instant coffee).

Eric’s Grand Canyon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012
Eric’s Grand Canyon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Tomorrow I leave for a trip to the Grand Canyon.

Eric’s Grand Canyon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

I’d like to see you if possible . . . Catherine. Don’t be depressed or alienated. I really care about you.

Eric’s Grand Canyon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

The Grand (Canyon) is . . . amazing place. . . . Love exists.

Eric’s Grand Canyon, Collage by Catherine Raine 2012

Love, Eric     Give me a call.

Beauty Never Dies at the Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix Arizona (Journal Entry for May 3, 2012)

As I write on a slightly rickety table beside the snack cart, I’m enjoying the shade and moving shadows of a tall tree. The same waving branches that are making patterns on these pages recently hosted a rock pigeon, but it has flown away.

I’m taking a rest after almost two hours of desert trail-walking. Funny how the landscape didn’t really reach me at first, but before long I lost my heart to its wildflowers, lizards, hummingbirds, and flowering cathedral cacti.

As I made my way along the Desert Wildflower trail, the Desert Discovery Loop, and the Steele Herb Garden, fragments of lectures and conversations shimmered briefly, the fluttering of unseen wings in the leaves.

Tap Root.

Burrow.

Nest.

Lizard!! Lizard!!

“Would you like a picture of this cactus for your power point presentation?” (Father to his young son)

In the Desert Garden, I saw a multitude of memorials on benches, chairs, fountains, trees, and walls. There were even memorial drinking fountains (a lovely idea). However, I was looking for a special one, a plaque in memory of a Toronto friend’s beloved parents. And when I finally found it, I felt connected to my friend’s family and their shared memories of the Garden. It didn’t seem to matter that I never met them. They had walked these paths before and enjoyed the beauty that I was seeing.

I studied the plaque for a long time, growing sad and thoughtful. But the more I reflected on the inevitability of loss, the more I felt strangely comforted at the thought of all the people who will visit this gorgeous sanctuary long after I have had my mortal turn. The Desert Garden is an embodiment of faith, for in this place, love, memories, and the creative earth continue to flower and flower, tapping deep roots of Beauty that do not die.