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Friday, December 1, 2023

Phoenix Riting! – October 26th, 2023

Ah Hornby dances, how do I love you? We had another banger at the Hall Saturday night, called “A Whole Lotta Zep.” When I saw David Gogo show up as a fan of the band, wearing a band t-shirt, I had a feeling we were in for something special. And oh my yes we were. The first thing I did, however and I wasn’t the only one, was rush to the restroom to crumple toilet paper into my ears. Please, dear bands, if you must play so loudly (and they all seem to insist on it), it would be excellent of you to provide a basket of earplugs at the door. Still, the TP (mostly) did the job and I boogied myself into exhaustion to some seriously excellent rock ‘n roll.


For this Zeppelin fan, it was brilliant. As a teenager, I loved that band. I played the two albums I owned, ‘Led Zeppelin IV’ and ‘Houses of the Holy’ over and over again. Sadly, I don’t have the same bottomless energy I used to have; I powered out before the show was over. Having left it all on the dancefloor, I dragged myself home in a stupor of exhaustion and bliss.

Note: if I act or talk like a crazy person on such occasions, please forgive me. I do get weird on dancing. I plant myself right up front because there’s the most space and also it’s where the band is. There I go unapologetically mad. I do this to get sane and to heal my body and soul. It may look weird but I recommend it! It’s a perfect healing modality, done right. And the music was so good. The band wailed and pounded and drummed up a storm of epic proportions and I lost myself in it.


There is more to come, Hornby! David Gogo told me he and his band will be playing our Hall on November 11. All I can say to that is, “Whee!” In addition–I have heard that there will be a house concert with The Bills somewhere on the island, sometime soon. It will be advertised, and when it is, I imagine tickets will sell out. House concerts are lovely and intimate and what a fabulous opportunity that will be. I can’t wait. Good music makes fall and winter less dark and dreary. We are so lucky here! I am still floating on a soft bed of endorphins, oh yes.


Fall is the season of classes and regular activities here on the island. One of my favourite activities are the classes located at New Horizons or through Zoom, sponsored by New Horizons. In Cornelia Hoogland’s Creative Writing group, we were recently assigned a poem called “Where I’m From.” I thought I’d share my offering with you all here now, so you can get to know me a little better. I hope you enjoy it! Please also enjoy this glorious autumn and the abundant explosion of mushrooms we are currently blessed with.


Where I’m From


I am from paradox, bare walls and plywood boxes

I am from discarded possessions pared to fit one pickup

I am from shotguns picking off packrats in the next shack we never moved into

I am from one shining star, packed precious in tissue

I am from bears in the yard, from cold dishwater and Coleman lanterns

I am from rough men, whisker rubs that pink my skin, shoulder rides, alcohol, secrets and sweat

I am from a mother who needed a son to give meaning to maternity

I am from family reunions, murmurations of cousins, ecstatic surrender to like kind, belonging for a time

I am from moosemeat and huckleberry pie, steak and pancakes for breakfast

I am from canned peas and powdered milk, and dont leave the table until youre done

I am from wild woods wanderings alone, red dirt scraped raw 

I am from blackflies swarming up nostrils and scabbing necks

I am from whisky nights by lantern light, songs and stories, my own voice singing, music played in the dark without a spark

I am from pioneers who fled to the west, then north, then west again

I am from brown people who belonged where they stood, who were good to me and my family, who became my relations

I am from a culture I never knew but which shaped my worldview

I am from camping all summer, from lakes accessed only on foot

I am from winter, huddled and hiding, go out and play you’re driving me crazy

I am from slow wanderings on frozen creeks, icy clefts and caverns more mysterious than fantasy

I am from dreams seamlessly blended into waking, speaking with faeries, visiting alien starships, breathing under the sea 

I am from books, fantastical worlds with pioneer children like me, girl detectives and cowboys, wicked Queens, talking animals and ever darker themes 

I am from sunday school because everyone goes, 

and there is no god, and nobody knows


That’s what I think! What do you think? Email me at phoenixonhornby@gmail.com

Author: TIG

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