And he never noticed the face of the Regal leader who appeared from behind the eagle adorned main gate of the Palace. He saw him with the midgets and the mimes and the circus clowns and the performers and with the heroes of the circus. The King is brother to all he fights next to them he drinks and revels with them in this great immense Circus which celebrates the May festival. And he saw him on the chariot, dressed in Venetian attire and in the clothes of the Green charioteers he stood ready to march and the prophet shivered.
“I am sorry to hear that. I was hoping that they would see it the other way—that having Circle H horses at their sale would draw even more buyers. And the right kind of buyers.” “Afraid not. Guess that takes us to Plan B.” “Plan B?” Joel asked. “Exactly. The way that I see it, you really don’t have any option but run your own sale. The Ramage Ranch Sale is the last Saturday in September—has been going forever. Brings in big crowds from all over. Let’s do your sale on the Sunday right after. That way, people are here already and may want to stay for your sale.” “Would that work, Roy? Aren’t you concerned about upsetting the folks at the Ramage Ranch by working with me the day after their sale?” “As it happens, the Ramage people aren’t a client. Used to be. They bring in a crew from Denver to manage their sale now. It really hurt when they dropped us. Had been good clients for years, or so I thought.” “I guess that would work. But who would want to stay over and go to your auction yard for only . . .” “Hang on right there, cowboy. I learned a long time ago that there is only one place for a ranch horse sale. And that is on the ranch.” “Okay, I guess that makes sense, but who would want to come all of the way out here for only a dozen horses? Hardly seems worth it.” “Need to talk about that too: how do you feel about putting a few of your weanlings, yearlings, and two-year-olds in the sale?” “Well, I guess I could. But I need that young stock for future years.” “The way I see it, if we put a small offering of your younger horses in the auction in addition to the three-year-olds, you would really increase the appeal. Young stock might be what some folks need to stay one more day and attend your sale.” “Let me think about it, Roy. It sounds like I need my own sale, but I don’t know if I want to sell any of the younger horses.
Think Tank They analyze, calculate disagree on the number of casualties collateral damage enemies in a faraway land they think unlike the tank, which shoots four kilometres away to obliterate the structure of the faceless enemy hiding inside they think calculate the value of the projectile opposite the pounds of flesh inhabitants of the building they conclude it was all worthy of it*
I stare at the Saskatchewan landscape, mesmerized by a sense of space and feeling its impact on my whole being, this land where I was born, nurtured and raised. The view is endless, green fields of grain rolling into a flat horizon punctuated by clumps of farmstead trees and changing into a sky blending from the lightest blue at the horizon to a beautiful deep blue overhead. The rows of brilliant white cumulus clouds accentuate the blueness of the sky. A strange, melancholy feeling washes over me. I feel this way every time I face the prairie expanse of motionless earth and sky, and the feeling always leaves me cleaner and more peaceful. I have no identity crisis; I was born a farmer’s son and shall happily go through life with that tag and the learned values. These have served me well through my life’s journey—as an air force career officer, as a pilot to Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip and the Queen Mother and as the Canadian Forces Attaché in Czechoslovakia during the depths of the cold war. Then, on retirement, as a nursery grower; an airport manager in Langley; a fascinated student and backroom participant in national politics, watching the politicians posture—many confusing their parties’ agenda with the needs of the nation, and as an observer of the strengths and weaknesses ofmy fellowman.And seeing in them a mirror image of my own strengths and shortcomings. My upbringing has armed me with resourcefulness and an ability to separate the seed from the chaff. I have used these qualities to find solutions to life’s challenges. Hopefully these will continue to serve me in this world. As for the next, being an optimist helps.
Morning Wake Up My love, I can endure everything away from you. One I can’t: waking up next to your vacant pillow. It’s hard to get used to coming back home alone at night but the morning wake up is unbearable. I’m truthful to you I open my eyes and shut them right away. I don’t want to wake up. I can’t endure to stretch my arm on the empty side of the bed. The bathroom misses the sounds of you shaving and the fragrance of your after shave. I cover myself to the head with the bed coverings and wish light wouldn’t come, time won’t come when I’ll have to go down to the kitchen to make coffee. In the morning! The breakfast I prepared for you and the coffee we had together. When I took you to the garage door and kissed you good morning. When I looked at you as you drove the car away. The day that has no reason to commence, no expectation for your return at night. Every day from now on. Day after day until I get used to it.
God’s cry named us from there Tomorrow we’ll swim again tomorrow we’ll travel more tomorrow the dawn will ask for our endurance and we’ll respond to the sea We wrote our first verse in the sand while the insisting masts looked at us solemnly and the wave whispered the eternal homecoming We stood on the rock like busts of escape staring at the moon designing circles asking our secret about ships carrying white shadows about the endless voyage about the anchor that didn’t nail the water We touched our wound and time and we escaped The voyage always remains with us and the endless clamor of the sea The ships had come with the dawn loaded with wheat coal and wine for the dreams of captains for the food of fire You threw the bread the wine and coal and remained naked in the sea without cloth covering your ribs without love hiding your eyes The hour had the color of secret pearl sunk in the thought of dawn with distant voices filled with danger and promise You looked at your body in the water and you loved the water forgetting your body Oh voyage without any burden with fire without coal with hunger without bread with thirst and elation without wine
II Décor and pompousness abound on the outside and the headman’s crown, while a dark shade swirls in his heart like a heavy shroud blanketing logos leading the way toward a thick bog. “This time, perhaps this time we shall prevail over them and stitch on bitter lips of life the ever phony and capricious laughter”, the headmaster claims in his role marching as in a pantomime. He graces the simple-minded with a false yellow beacon perpetuating their sanctified killing. Beast man against man deep stigmata colored in dark red or light gray on the faces and on the limbs and in the spirits. How would the hungry wolf listen to the voice of the pious lamb? How would the voracious volcano, listen to the dry kindling in the summer forest?
He had more canvases made that together measured twenty-five feet, eight inches long by two feet high. By anyone’s standard, this was an immense painting: by Ken’s yardstick, it was a miniature. However, the size was ideal, as it allowed him to sketch in every detail and nuance he wanted to convey. He worked eighteen hours a day, but time had ceased to have meaning. He physically barricaded the studio to discourage visitors. Several weeks later, when the large model was complete, he started to calculate what it would take to paint a portrait that was twelve feet high one hundred fiftytwo feet long. He estimated that he would need thirty-eight panels twelve feet high by four feet long, butted seamlessly together. He had immense issues to deal with. First, he had to find a supplier who could stretch canvases of that size. He also had to keep Rocco supplied with paintings, and he had to complete them on time. And, he had to finish the Reichmann and Yellowknife Airport paintings. In addition, he was once again doing presentations at schools. Common sense told him to say no to those requests, yet he felt an obligation to talk to the children – to fire their minds with dreams. Although he should have been tired, he was bursting with energy. It was as though the furnace of his heart was being stoked with a fuel that burned endlessly – a fuel more potent than food, drink or rest. He could find no one who would stretch the canvases. Those he approached thought he was mad. He talked to the company that supplied their framing material, explaining that he needed stretchers double kiln dried so they wouldn’t warp. They also had to be bevelled so that when the panels came together the seams would disappear. Ken wanted all the materials he used to be made in Canada. It wasn’t possible. No one in Canada made canvas, so he ordered several rolls from Brazil, each roll weighing hundreds of pounds. He also had to import brushes. With leftover canvas from the Reichmann painting, he and Diane stretched the first panel using the device he had invented that was a combination of canvas stretching pliers, Vise-Grips, and a torque wrench. Every part of the canvas had to be stretched to precisely the same tension. The canvas was perfect when he could lay it on the floor, toss a coin on it ,and have it bounce off like a bullet. If it wasn’t right he started over again – and he began afresh many times. Keeping in mind his insight about quantifying the painting, he made a precise list of every item he needed. How much glue would he need? How much gesso for four coats on each of thirty-eight panels? How much paint? Ken met with Mr. Stevenson, of Stevenson and Company paint manufacturers, “I think I’m going to need two tons of paint,” Ken said.
‘With Liam Dooley?’ Joe’s face took on a puzzled look. ‘You could have had your pick of every young man from here to Kerry. Why Liam Dooley of all people?’ ‘Oh Joe, don’t say it like that. It just happened. I don’t know how. Something I said. We were both upset. And then we were consoling each other.’ ‘In bed?’ ‘Please, Joe. Don’t make it sound worse than it is. God alone knows how much I have paid for that one sin. And I shall go on paying for it till the day I die. God is very severe on sinners sometimes, Joe. His punishment seems out of all proportion to the sin. But He has His reasons, they say. And for some reason He has been severe in his punishment of the Carrick family.’ ‘But Nora, going to bed with a man doesn’t mean you have to marry him. Nor does it mean that the one you might eventually want to marry is going to hold it against you if he knew about it.’ ‘What if I was pregnant?’ Nora asked. ‘What if I was carrying the first man’s child? Wouldn’t that make a difference? Wouldn’t the man I might eventually want to marry hold that against me?’ Joe looked away and said nothing. A harshness, a bitterness, in Nora’s voice was new and discomfiting. But the more he thought about it the more justified it was. Fate—or God—had treated Nora cruelly. ‘Can you be sure?’ Joe asked. ‘Can you be sure you’re going to have a baby?’ ‘I’m not,’ Nora replied. ‘You’re not sure?’ Joe cried. ‘Then why did you …?’ ‘Oh Joe, please!’ Nora shouted in exasperation. ‘I didn’t mean I’m not sure. I meant I’m not going to have a baby.’ ‘Nora, I’m confused. I’m not thinking too clearly.’ ‘After I slept with Liam I was a month overdue with my period.’ Nora gushed out the words. She was embarrassed. It had been easier to put this in a letter. These were matters a woman did not discuss with a man. But Joe had rights to a full explanation. She had to tell him everything, if only to make herself feel less miserable by justifying what she did. ‘That never happened before. I was always regular. I was frightened, Joe. I was sure I was pregnant.’ ‘Did you talk to your mother about it?’ ‘I couldn’t, Joe. I wanted to. I tried to. But I was so ashamed, so frightened of what she’d think of me. I couldn’t do it. I suppose I kept hoping …’
Manolis Aligizakis 