Hardly Worth Mentioning

It takes something quite extraordinary to stand out from the generally topsy turvy nature of reality these days.

It seemed, therefore, almost predictable that a tiny upside down house, packed with piano parts and foliage, should appear overnight at the end of our alley.

We do get quite a lot of things dumped in our neighbourhood, but usually the scale tops out at mattresses or the occasional sofa.

An entire shed, however, was something new. It stayed with us for almost a week, so we had plenty of time to determine that it was most likely an old play house, judging by the miniature railing on the front. Or maybe someone’s micro yoga retreat? A potting shed for very small plants??

Amid the stress of the US election, and almost everything else 2020-related, making up stories about our new local landmark proved quite entertaining.

On Friday, I posted some pictures of it on social media and it obviously lit a spark of creativity in many others longing for distraction. Comments and questions poured in.

Theories and jokes abounded — ranging from Wizard of Oz comparisons, to suggestions for US election metaphors. The two things overlapped quite a bit.

Over the course of a few days, news spread of our impromptu art installation.
Vancouver is Awesome did a small story about it.

Someone scavenged the piano bits and pieces — hopefully for an art project of some sort. Another recycler came by to have a look at the motorbike wheel that had spilled out of the front door. Sadly, it was the wrong size for their purposes.

Someone contacted me on Instagram to let me know he was pretty sure he knew who dumped the shed, as he’d seen it on his neighbour’s truck the week before. Sometimes, Vancouver seems like quite a small town.

We had assumed that the true story behind our little conversation piece was as boring as this — the mundane avoidance of legal dump fees — but then again we did have a lot of fun in a stressful time — joking about the increasingly familiar feeling of not being in Kansas anymore, and speculating about Toto and flying monkeys.

Marvin and Mavis remained deeply suspicious about this new landmark and Marvin, when interviewed, had this to say:

The City did finally come and haul it away yesterday.

And, for those of you wondering, I did check and I saw no ruby slippers left behind.


You might also enjoy this post about another accidental local art installation:





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Collecting Hidden Beauty

Sometimes, on my walks, I like to play a little game.

I call it Alleyway to Art Gallery.

Something catches my eye —  a piece of rust, moss on a worn fence, a shattered windshield,  even some crumpled paper floating in the gutter.

At that moment, in that light, it is astonishing.

That’s how the game begins.

Part two is imagining that the little piece of beauty has been magically transported from the gutter to a pristine white gallery.

The lighting and ambience are perfect. The exhibited piece is HUGE. Twenty feet high.

Perhaps sparkling wine is being served …

The colours, the textures! It’s stunning.

In some ways, the game can be a little depressing since the imaginary exhibit is far more gorgeous and spontaneous than anything I’m likely to create.

But, therein lies the fun of it. It’s an inspiration. Something to aspire to.

Plus, before you know it, I’ve been on a little fantasy VAG, MoMA, or Tate Modern trip during the course of a dog walk.

It’s my little secret. Until it wears away, blows away, or the light changes, it’s part of my own private collection.

The pictures in this blog are of a treasure I found in a local alleyway around this time last year.

As you can see in the photo above,  the alleyway in question did not seem, at first glance, to hold a lot of promise. I can’t remember how exactly I came to notice it. Perhaps Geordie wanted to pee on it.

It was a large painting, done on some sort of wood veneer with thick, swirling sweeps of paint. Hard to say if was acrylic or oil paint, or what the original subject was.

I’m not sure how long it had been languishing in they alley when I found it, but much of the paint had worn off and the wooden base had started to de-laminate. Moss was beginning to colonize parts of the wood, and windy weather had caused brilliant fall leaves to pile up in front of it.

One or two other leaves had become plastered to the old painting and random, yet somehow perfect, intervals.

It was one of those overcast, damp days where the sky is a dull grey, but all terrestrial colours seem extra bright to compensate. Flecks of blue left in the painting, and the touches of red in the autumn leaves, seemed to add little jolts of electricity to the overall composition.

I visited my little secret art show several times over the next few weeks, until it disappeared under the winter snow.

I considered all the the elements that went into the accidental “installation”.

The painter and their original inspiration.

The decisions and/or circumstances that led to the painting being abandoned in the alley.

The wind, the leaves, the moss, the light.

My decision to walk that way that day.

Geordie’s sudden need to pee.

Somehow this little game brings me much joy.

More and more I’m trying to find ways to steer my mind onto calmer pathways and thinking about beauty and serendipity makes a welcome change from too much news or  the never-ending “to-do” list.

I recommend it.


If you enjoyed this post, you may also like, The Gift.