Fighting Blue Demons of Disconnection (2010)
I made “Fighting Blue Demons of Disconnection” for the Octopus Project’s May Exhibit at the Distillery District. The challenge was to use the shades of only one colour. As for “Triangle Web,” it was a personal experiment in the use of thread to create geometric shapes.
Purple Triangle Web (2010)
Here’s how this wrapped collage looks on the outside.
Partially unwrapped.
Fully unwrapped.
Collage Centerfold!
Close-up!
Recently I visited the Bookmobile stop at Queen’s Quay and Bathurst, meeting TPL Communications Officer Ab. Velasco in the parking lot of the OMNI Television building. Through no fault of its own, the Bookmobile was late that evening, its scholarly goods held hostage to rush-hour traffic. I asked Ab. if he thought bookmobiles should be classed as emergency vehicles, and he suggested they should at least have a dedicated lane. Then he briefly left the conversation to apologize on behalf of the library to a small group of expectant patrons.
Fortunately, the eagerly-anticipated vehicle soon came into view. After negotiating the parking barrier, the bus positioned itself in the southeast corner of the lot. Once it was fully parked, a suspenseful pause reigned over the tarmac while we waited for the door to open and the ladder steps to lower.
A collective sigh was released as the last obstacle to the traveling library was removed, spilling a rectangle of light onto the darkening parking lot. About a dozen people had gathered by then, mostly older ladies and a mother with three kids. They clambered up the steps and formed huddles by the shelves of children’s materials, the DVD shelves, and Adult Fiction area. I was impressed by the quantity and variety of items available in such a compact space, including large print books, romance and graphic novels, plus magazines in Chinese, Tamil, Spanish, and Russian.
Taking a moment to fully appreciate the Romance section, I sat down at the back of the bus on a red-carpeted bench. My two favourite titles were Along Came a Husband and Lock, Stock, and Secret Baby. I have to say that Sex and the Single Earl had a certain something, too.
The more time I spent inside this marvel of library outreach, the more I observed the community fellowship it has created. The Bookmobile’s Friday visit appeared to be a social highlight, so I could see why patrons might have felt antsy when the vehicle was ten minutes late that evening.
Everyone seemed to know one another. As the bus gently swayed from side to side in response to the constant shifting of weight on the ladder, patrons greeted each other by name and provided family news updates. When an elderly lady climbed up with her cane, another woman inside entreated her to be careful not to lean backwards. Not far from her, a child was exclaiming, “They have fairy books!”
The driver seemed to be enjoying his job. He was handing out large pieces of stiff paper which folded up to create a model of the Bookmobile. When one kid said he didn’t want one, the driver said (in a kind tone), “Are you too cool for it?”
The captain of this library ship served as its librarian as well; he wore the two hats with ease. He processed the DVD I’d selected, My Brilliant Career, and chatted with me for a bit. I asked him about the Bookmobile’s capacity limit and he estimated about twenty people. He added that the adults tended to “self-regulate,” adjusting their comings and goings to the crowd-level. As for the kids, nothing could stop them from getting at the books!
Realizing I was taking up valuable space, I didn’t spend as much time at the Queen’s Quay stop as I normally would at an immovable library. However, I descended the steps into the parking lot with a strong sense that I’d just experienced something truly special. This lovely library on wheels was tangible evidence of TPL’s commitment to reaching all Torontonians. This is a city where books come to the people if the people cannot easily come to the books.
This shadow box is the result of a collaboration between my husband Stewart and me. The box itself was the former home of Korean biscuits. Stewart took the picture of Hester the deer last Christmas when we were visiting a conservation area in Springfield, Missouri.
“Forest Wolves” by Catherine Raine 2010
“The Princess and the Sedimentary Layers” by Catherine Raine, 2010
For Riverdale Library’s 100th Birthday Party, two rosy bouquets greeted the crowds who streamed into the recently renovated branch. While a large audience was gathering around a portable podium, regular library-users were weaving through clusters of listeners and dodging photographers in their struggle to reach the shelves and relocated check-out desk. (The old desk had been moved to the opposite wall, creating space for a larger computer lab and reading lounge).
I soon drifted away from the lengthy speeches to check out other changes Riverdale Library had undergone since my last visit in June. In my travels, I noticed that the entrance to the Children’s Section was more colourful, thanks to a new sign supported by two columns constructed from enormous building blocks. Also, a new set of red tables showed evidence of learning engagement, and shiny purple shelves provided incentive to investigate the books resting upon them.
Following up on my previous account of Paddington Bear’s condition, I can report that he has been released from his taped-up high chair. At the Birthday Party, he was reclining in luxurious freedom on top of a purple shelf. He also appeared to have been freshly laundered. On the shelf to the bear’s left was a lion who looked equally comfortable. He was well-positioned to see the readers on the window-seat as well as the street scene beyond.
The tree that had once sat gathering dust in the program room with a “Do Not Move” sign on it (which I had mistakenly thought said, “Do Not Remove”) was on display near the window-seat in the Children’s Room. Having sprouted new green leaves, it looked refreshed.
With impeccable timing, I returned to the main part of the library just as refreshments were being served in the community room. As I waited in line, everybody started singing, “Happy Birthday, Dear Riverdale” to the spirit of the branch. Once I reached the buffet table, I became more enveloped in the friendly chaos of the crowd. Folks were sitting, standing, pushing forward, retreating, and searching for missing implements to their meal. I handed a fork to a man who’d missed his chance to grab one and marveled at the pig’s head resting inside a platter with chunks of pork. A patron standing across from me commented: “That’s a vegetarian’s nightmare!”
Veering around groups of eaters who impeded the progress of in-coming revelers, I reached the drinks table. City Librarian, Jane Pyper was standing beside jugs of ice water, handing out cups to the guests. I complimented her on the renovation, and she said how pleased she was with it, especially with how the building was more open to the street now. She wished me luck as I set off to photograph the cakes.
After taking a few more pictures, I left the community room and made for the exit. It made me smile to see patrons leaning against CD carrels and bookshelves with plates of noodles, pork, and cake. Riverdale Library, thank you for celebrating your 100th Birthday with such style and spirit! It was an honour to be part of your special day.
When I was writing a post about Main Street Library, I phoned a librarian there to ask if she knew the exact year the front entrance was added to the building. She wasn’t sure but promised to pass the question on to the branch librarian. Sure enough, I received a call this evening and learned the correct date: 1977. I was so impressed that branch librarian had taken the trouble to make sure I had the necessary information to make the Main Street post as accurate as possible. Hooray for librarians!
Noreia’s Birthday Sufi (2008)
Divine Grief (2010)
“Floral Bird and Bunny” by Catherine Raine 2010
“Bordered Forest Steps” by Catherine Raine 2010
“Swan Woman,” by Catherine Raine 2010 (Lacy Goose from Karel Teissig’s Illustration of Aesop’s Fables, 1971)
During a memorial service for my childhood friend, Jenny Smith Carr (1969-2010), I gave her eulogy with this meadow image projected on a screen behind me. I found the Swiss meadow photo in the Picture Collection of the Toronto Public Library, but there wasn’t any reference to the photographer who took this calendar picture.
Eulogy for Jenny Smith Carr: Jenny’s Purple Meadow
Several months before she died, Jenny asked me if her cancer made me think about my own mortality. “Sure it does,” I replied. “You’re a part of me.” She will always be a part of me, a precious patch of Jenny-ness that inspires and sustains me.
When I visualize the color and texture of this Jenny-patch in my soul, I see three translucent paddles in primary colors. Jenny is the red paddle. I’m the blue paddle. And the purple place where we overlap is the part of Jenny I get to keep, a purple meadow of shared memories, experiences, values, and giggles. Jenny’s meadow is a clearing in my mind, a sunny expanse of wildflowers surrounded by an ancient forest.
My hope for all of us who were blessed to love Jenny is to visit our clearings often, for they are sacred sites of Jenny’s spirit that death cannot destroy. This afternoon, I’m taking you with me to Jenny’s purple meadow, where stories flower beside a purple stream, among irises and daisies, and in the hollows of warm stones.
Take this wildflower over here. It’s a story set in the late nineteen seventies. Jenny and I are trick-or-treating along Mill Street in Liberty, Missouri. As radical young questioners of gender roles, we have disguised ourselves as housewives. We have put pink curlers in our hair and wrapped ourselves in padded polyester bathrobes. Fuzzy slippers pull the satirical outfit together. At one fateful house on Mill Street, the woman who answers our knock is dressed exactly like us, down to the last curler. She gives us a few pieces of candy but no compliments on our cute costumes.
More Jenny memories come from Camp Oakledge in Warsaw, Missouri, where I spent two summers sharing a canvas tent on a wooden platform with Jenny and other Girl Scouts. One afternoon, Jenny and I canoed for three miles across the Lake of the Ozarks to a hamburger shack perched on a dock. I still remember how good that burger tasted because we had powered ourselves across the waters, earning our lunch with our oars.
One February weekend in 1982, Jenny and I went camping in Dearborn, Missouri. We shivered together in a tent that we had placed on the slope of a hill. When camp leaders organized a midnight hike, Jenny opted to stay in the tent, but I walked to the edge of a clearing in the woods and drank in the vast bowl-shaped meadow all blanketed in deep snow. The dark ring of trees circling all that open space was a visual prayer. When I think of Jenny, I remember this winter meadow. Like her, it is spiritually refreshing and elegant.
The starry sky of the night hike also calls to mind a special star-gazing event that Jenny’s close friends planned for the purpose of sending out beams of love to our dying friend. At exactly 10 pm (EST), wind chimes, lightning, singing locusts, clear skies and cloudy ones greeted us from Arizona, Missouri, Ohio, Connecticut, and Ontario. As I studied the opaque heavens, I thought of my love for Jenny, and the memory of her telling me how much the biopsy needles hurt her made me cry.
Jenny is beyond the needles now, beyond pain, beyond fear. She’s a gorgeous bird of paradise that flies between drops of rain that bless us. And she’s in every compassionate thing we do. Her purple meadow is alive with sensitivity, laughter, and thousands of witty words. We protect it when we share stories of our beautiful Jenny.
Yesterday I received news that a dear childhood friend had died. As Jenny’s terminal illness progressed over the past few months, I found myself thinking of forest clearings and how much she loved nature. I wanted to make a memory collage that included meadows, so I went to the Picture Collection at the Toronto Reference Library and pulled out a lovely fat folder labelled “meadows.” I was amazed at how much it comforted me to look at those beautiful pictures. I felt connected to Jenny and to our shared experience of camping in Northwest Missouri and the Ozarks.
In 2010, I received a kind e-mail from April Quan, the artist who had created the woolen castle for Deer Park Library in 2000. For many years, April used her creative skills to make toys from natural materials as a fundraiser for her children’s school; thus, Deer Park chose the perfect architect for an interactive toy in its children’s section.
While describing the history of the cloth fortress, April told me that three pennants and some doll figures had been plundered from the castle in the early aughts. Mention of her delightful castle in my 2010 blog post about Deer Park motivated the artist to restore the missing features and return the textile chateau to its original glory. It makes me happy that my library blog played a role in the castle’s evolution!
April’s email also revealed the origins of the soft sculpture’s materials: “The wool is recycled fabric from the big Goodwill store that used to be at Adelaide and Jarvis . . . (the store had) a perfect winter coat just waiting to be turned into stone. . . . The turrets and grass were skirts from the same store.” I loved how Ms. Quan saw the makings of a fairy-tale building in ordinary woolen coat and some skirts from the Goodwill.
Three Huzzahs for April Quan and The Restored Woolen Castle!
On a recent weekend visit to Elliot Lake, a local friend indulged me in a visit to Elliot Lake Library when we could have gone directly to the lake. She took me inside the town’s quiet 1980’s mall, where we found a wonderful Bibliothèque. It was much larger than the Toronto mall libraries I’ve visited, such as Woodside Square, Eglinton Square, Maryvale, Steeles, Bridlewood, Black Creek, and Bayview.
With large glass windows facing a wide mall corridor, this library contained spacious east and west wings. The entrance was on the west side, which housed non-fiction, reference, and a collection of computers. A quilt tapestry showed off Canadian-themed appliqués, and across the room was a giant dream catcher and a display of fishing rods, tackle, and thick booklets in English and French about fishing regulations. Another large section was devoted to Mining Environmental Assessment Reports.
Crossing over to the east wing, I discovered an entire wall devoted to livres en français. My initial surprise at this made me realize that I had mistakenly associated small towns with monolingualism. To my knowledge, the only Toronto Public Library branch with a comparable French collection would be North York Central.
Opposite the French section was a fairy-tale mural painted by L. Finn in 1992. Springing from the pages of a children’s book were a host of classic characters: Ali Baba, Alice in Wonderland, Puss-n-Boots (who was struggling to remove his famous footwear), Little Red Riding Hood, and Babe the Blue Ox.
Not far from the lively mural, a family reading area featured a plastic globe with a talking airplane, two rocking chairs (one large and one small with painted jungle animals), and small mats with triangular wedges for upper-body support.
Before exiting Elliot Lake Library, I bought four National Geographic magazines for a dollar. Although it felt odd to leave a library without checking out any books, lack of borrowing privileges could not diminish the happiness of visiting my most northerly branch to date!
I’m blogging live from Kennedy/Eglinton branch with Joan, Raymon, and a few others. I’ve been talking about my library blog and details like the window seats and tall grasses!
I’ve just asked the participants at today’s event what they like about the library. Joan likes the smell and the feel of books, the printed page. Raymon likes the resources such as the ProTech computer lab. He also likes the self-checkout. One person liked the library’s friendly appearance and the helpful staff. The lady sitting behind him was amazed by the huge collections and size of North York Central Library. Finally, another participant has encouraged me to write a book!
I really enjoyed this opportunity to share my blog with Kennedy/Eglinton patrons. Thank you for inviting me!
This morning I was thinking about which library to visit next for the blog. Way back in 2007, my first posts were more like notes than paragraphs. Before I sign off on the library blog project for good, I’d like to expand these early posts and add a few pictures. The following are the branches which await a second visit: Parliament, Saint James Town, City Hall, Toronto Reference Library, Lillian H. Smith, High Park, Leaside, Agincourt, Highland Creek, Port Union, Morningside, Cedarbrae (post-renovation), Guildwood, Cliffcrest, Bendale, McGregor Park, Victoria Village, Albert Campbell, Dawes Road, Main Street, Beaches, Jones, Pape-Danforth, and Riverdale.
Some branch descriptions need to be separated into individual posts, and others require more editing and expansion. The libraries that fall under these categories are Barbara Frum, Bayview, Fairview, Don Mills, Flemingdon Park, and Burrows Hall.
Finally, I’d like to do a post each on the two special collections at Lillian H. Smith branch.
No beaches for me this summer unless you count Beaches Library!
The April 2010 edition of Toronto Public Library’s Shelf Life, has a short article about my library blog. Check it out!
Located on the west side of the first floor, Gateway Services is devoted to TPL-card-carrying youth. It features the Young Adult Collection, a computer Learning Centre, and The Hub (a teenager-friendly space for study and socializing). Within The Hub’s zone is a tall gazebo that shelters a red-tiled wall in the shape of the letter “S” (mirroring the red wall on the first floor of the east side) and four jukeboxes. Dominating the north wall of Gateway Services is a mural in chunky faux-graffiti font that spells TORONTO PUBLIC LIBRARY.
On the day of my visit, Gateway Services lacked neither patrons nor activity. Even though the players of intense chess games in progress had not seen their teens for decades, their gently mocking banter radiated youthful energy. In The Hub, a bona fide adolescent was bent over a laptop while perched on the red upholstered bench affixed to the curving interior wall. Another student slouched on the floor, his back supported by the same structure. And a group of friends crowded round a low table, deep in conversation.
Four old-fashioned jukeboxes stood near the undulating red bench under the gazebo. Exuding a 1950’s vibe, these Rock-ola Nostalgia beasts boasted carved wooden arms and an extensive range of music. When I studied the jukeboxes’ song selections (each one matched to a capital letter and a number to punch in), I beheld artists like the following who were paired on the same white rectangular label: LeAnn Rimes and Prince, Luther Vandross and Amy Grant, Ozzy Osbourne and Elton John, The Beastie Boys and Simon and Garfunkel, R.E.M. and Reba McEntire, plus Janet Jackson and The Cranberries.
Gateway Services was my last stop after having visited the entire North York Central facility for the second time. Despite the energy needed to cover six large floors of this branch, enthusiasm did not quail. Before I embarked on my second exploration, I had no idea the North York Central contained a music room, a Legal Aid office, a sound effects collection, a second-hand bookstore, and a galaxy mural on the 6th floor. With varied resources around every corner, North York Central is a massive attraction for fans of the Toronto Public Library.
Early yesterday morning I got to talk about my library blog on CBC Radio! I was thrilled and a little nervous, but host Matt Galloway put me at ease at once. Thank you Matt for an engaging and fun interview!
If anybody would like to hear the interview, please check out https://c-raine.com/catherine-cbc-20100315.mp3.
It’s been an excellent season for the blog’s publicity, as it was also featured in last Thursday’s Torontoist. Toronto loves her libraries!
I was delighted to meet Vit Wagner, Publishing Reporter for the Toronto Star this afternoon. We spent half an hour at a café talking about my quest to visit and write about all 99 Toronto Public Libraries. Afterwards, there was even a photo session in front of Saint James Town Library, courtesy of Star Photographer, Tara Walton. After this experience, I am now no longer allowed to wail to my husband, “Nobody reads my blog!”
Update: and here it is – Burning through the branches.
A striking mural stopped me in my tracks as I walked through a side passageway to the entrance of Mount Dennis Library. I saw a man and a woman facing each other in the middle of a green field. A community of daffodils gathered in the foreground, and two trees framed the scene, transforming actual pillars into brown trunks. Painted wooden creatures had been riveted to the surface of the mural, creating a bulky appliqué effect. The riveted animals included a seagull, a cardinal, a raccoon looking at a ladybug, a wolfish dog, a bee hive on a branch, and a chipmunk (also on a branch).
After I passed through the main doorways, I noticed a curious detail on the vertical jamb between the two doors. Someone had painted a giraffe’s head near the top of the jamb, its ears and horns jutting into the lintel. Yellow and orange dots cascaded down the length of the jamb, suggesting a long neck. I liked how the artist had seen a giraffe in the shape of an ordinary door jamb, celebrating whimsy in the day-to-day experience of passing through a door.
The main floor of Mount Dennis branch was one long rectangle in soft cream, demure yellow, and brown. With wide aisles and plenty of open space, the interior was restful. High windows facing Weston Road provided a sunlit view of a wooden trellis that called out for grape vines and a paint touchup, echoing some interior shabbiness in which paint was peeling here and there. I also noticed that water damage had taken out a chunk of the ceiling near the checkout desk. However, the main level was still a pleasant place to borrow materials in English, Spanish, Korean, Portuguese, or Vietnamese.
The basement level contained the children’s section and a series of giant wooden jigsaw pieces on the east wall. My favourite puzzle piece had a dark red background and was decorated with a diverse circle of children’s faces surrounded by painty handprints in green, purple, black, yellow, and blue. Lining the walls of a narrow corridor just outside was an art display called the “100 Dreams Project,” which complemented the jigsaw piece. Inspiring kindergarten artists such as Adesh, Ashanti, Caleb, Demetri, Issacher, Jenny, Jah-Shy, Lotus, Megan, Shivani, Yasmin, and Zipporah had painted kites, monsters, ice-cream cones, volcanoes, babies, guinea pigs, and a purple ball on small square canvases.
With its welcoming and art-friendly vibe, Mount Dennis Library served as an ideal host for the exuberant 100 Dreams exhibit by students from Dennis Avenue Community School. Long may they colour the walls with their dreams!
