If you have some fabulous photos of the area; a favourite local recipe; knowledge about local history; a favourite place you love to visit; tips about fiddlehead picking, fly fishing, snowmobiling, cross country skiing or any Miramichi related activity; then the annual Miramichi River Guide wants to hear from you.

Written submissions should be no more than 250 words. Or send up to six high-resolution photographs.

The deadline for submissions is February 20th.

Email stacy@mightymiramichi.com with River Guide Submission as your subject line. To view the 2011 Miramichi River Guide visit the website www.riverguide.ca.

The storyteller, LeVêKe.

The storyteller LeVêKe will present his show Le Souffle de la Vie (the breath of life) on Thursday, February 23 at 8 p.m. at the Empress Theatre located on Robinson Court in Moncton. Tickets are currently on sale at the cost of $14.50 plus applicable fees. Le Souffle de la Vie is intended for all audiences.

Le souffle de la vie

While the humans’ machines and saws are about to eliminate the forest around him, the giant maple tree (personified by LeVêKe) talks about earth and humanity’s story. Before his demise, the tree shares a story about the evolution of life on earth. The idea of this show was inspired by a wooden mask made by sculptor Paul Ouellette. LeVêKe had the idea of talking about the importance of forests in life.

The performance starts with the projection of OÏO by artist Simon Goulet. At the end of this short 7 minutes film, LeVêKe takes the stage for his theatrical performance. After the show, the audience is invited to take a closer look at Paul Ouellette’s artwork.

LeVêKe is a storyteller from Balmoral, NB. For more than 10 years, he has performed with innovative new ways of telling his stories. This storyteller has toured in Canada, Switzerland, Belgium, France and the USA.

This autodidact artist discovered the fabulous world of storytelling while meeting Father Germain Lemieux in Sudbury, Ontario. Lemieux published the impressing collection Les vieux m’ont conté, featuring stories from Ontario, Acadie, Gaspésie and Manitoba storytellers. LeVêKe’s process is inspired by various community and professional activities, as well as his involvement in the preservation of the environment.

With Le souffle de la vie, the artist takes the audience in his imaginary world filled with tales of environment, history and communication.

Box Office

Tickets for Le souffle de la vie at the Capitol Theatre are now on sale at the Capitol Theatre Box Office, l’Escaouette, Frank’s Music, Monument Lefebvre, Dieppe Arts and Culture Centre and l’Université de Moncton, at $14.50 plus applicable fees. Tickets are also available by phone at (506) 856-4379 or 1-800-567-1922, or online at www.capitol.nb.ca.

Wintry woodland walk

My Woodland Adventure
by Lura Somers

It was a sunny afternoon in January, for the sun had decided to come out and it poured down from the sky. One could feel the warmth of its rays on your back. It gave the world around a promise of the spring to come.

The glistening snow hurt my eyes and made them water. The birds were singing a happy song as they flitted from tree to tree, happy for the reprieve from the cold, blustering winter weather.

I made my way along the heavily wooded trail, lined with snow laden pines, spruces and fir trees. I could imagine each one bowing and smiling a welcome as my skies went swish, swish, swish with every move on the soft white snow.

I enjoyed the peaceful, yet serene forest so much with its majesty. It seemed to speak of the greatness of the creator, who indeed must have a true appreciation of beauty to make something so breathtaking.

With these thoughts running through my mind, I pushed forward along the familiar route that I had travelled so often in the past several weeks. As I continued along the curves and dipped down over the tiny hills and gullies, my heart began to pump as the adrenalin rushed through my body. How exhilarating!

I was climbing deeper and deeper into the forested hills now, and enjoying every minute of it! As I pumped and sweated up the hills, I noticed some fresh tracks of where squirrels had scurried away, a rabbit trail here and there, even a beaten down path where the white tailed deer had crossed over my path on several occasions.

Then, just as I was approaching the top of a small summit, my eye caught a slight movement off to the left, under some low hanging bushes. Immediately, I froze in my movement. I nearly stopped breathing! There was a quiet hush. The birds stopped singing … then the slight movement again.

I stood like a statue, frozen in my tracks! Stealthily, a coyote stepped directly in front of me! Its paws poised on a protruding bush and it looked directly at me. Its yellow eyes searched for danger. Its fur of yellowish brown shining and the white patches under its neck and chest glistening in the bright sunshine.

It stopped for but a few seconds, then briskly jumped on the top of the next hill and kept on its way. I let my breath out slowly. I’m positive the animals and the birds perched in the surrounding trees could hear my heart pounding in my chest. My legs felt like jelly.

I took a deep breath and continued my trek through the woods. The sun seemed even brighter and the birds sang a cheerier song. As I turned toward home, my heart was rejoicing and thankful that God had allowed me to glimpse one of His magnificent creatures in the wild.

Lura Somers lives in Halcomb, NB. She was born and raised on the Miramichi River and has lived there most of her life. Lura lived in Ontario for close to 10 years but she and her husband returned to the Miramichi to retire four years ago. They have five children and lots of grandchildren. Lura enjoys writing poetry and short stories. She also enjoys snowshoeing and cross courntry skiing. This story is a true experience which took place on an afternoon ski trip in the property behind her home.

This post was submitted by Lura Somers.

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Deadline February 21

As part of the W(here) Festival, community members and local artists are encouraged to submit an idea for a field trip or performative walk in Pictou County, NS.

Field trips may take place anywhere and be between 1 and 2 hours. Through walking and talking, this project seeks to discover new stories about “place” in Pictou County and share local knowledge in an artistic way.

Lead us to a special place, start a conversation or tell us a site-specific story. Is there something to do when we arrive? What makes this place special? Delve into history or make your own.

Field trips can be informal or staged. All forms of presentation are encouraged from historical research and tour, to on-location performance and site-specific sculpture. Artists, poets, storytellers, historians, filmmakers, environmentalists and star-gazers are all welcome to submit their idea for consideration by February 21st. Three walks will be selected and an honorarium of $250 paid to field trip hosts.

Through visiting local sites and listening to local stories, the goal of Walking in Place is to encourage new ways of thinking about “here”.

Your proposal should include:

- 1 page description (where you will take us? what will we talk about? what will we see?)

- 100 word biography (who are you, what do you do or make?, CV encouraged but not necessary)

- images, video, audio (Images and other media can add rich content to your proposal)

Some ideas:

- lead us through the night and tell us about the night sky

- read a poem you have written in the place it was inspired

- play us a piece of music on location

- take us on a boat tour, a picnic, a hike and tell us a tale

- lead us in a drawing class or another workshop in an interesting place

How to Submit:

Email your submission to wherefestival@gmail.com by Feb 21 2012 with the subject “Submission”. Documents may be Microsoft Word (.doc) or Adobe PDFs (.pdf). Pictures .jpg only please.

If you would like to discuss your idea before you submit, please contact Mary directly at wherefestival@gmail.com, 647 389 6393, or arrange a Skype chat. She is happy to discuss any questions you may have about this project and the festival more broadly.

ABOUT THE FESTIVAL

W(here) Festival – June 26th to June 30th 2012

Where? Here.
Placing rural art practices on the map in Pictou County
In June 2012 the W(here) Festival* begins and ends on its feet, exploring ideas of place, art, and community. Taking place in Pictou County, Nova Scotia, local and visiting artists will lead audiences in a series of “field trips” engaging participants in an interactive way. In addition, the festival will feature an exciting evening of local artist talks, a special roundtable discussion about place-based art, and a public video drive-in downtown.

Discover new terrain, new histories, and new possibilities for artistic thinking at the W(here) Festival this spring in Pictou County. All events are free and family friendly.

Visiting Artists

Marlene Creates is an acclaimed environmental artist and poet who lives and works in Portugal Cove, Newfoundland. Born in Montreal, Creates studied visual arts at Queen’s University (ON). For over thirty years her work has been an exploration of the relationship between human experience, memory, language and the land, and the impact they have on each other. http://www.marlenecreates.ca

Sheilah Wilson was born in Caribou River (NS) and studied photography at the Instituto Allende (Mexico) and visual art at NSCAD University before receiving her Masters of Fine Arts from Goldsmiths College (UK). Wilson’s work is an investigation of the seam that binds experience to language, story to teller and fantasy to history through photography, site-specific public art and performance. http://sheilahwilson.com

Curator

Mary MacDonald is an artist, arts administrator and curator hailing from Pictou. Mary graduated from Mount Allison University (BFA 2006) and is presently studying towards a Masters of Fine Arts in Criticism & Curatorial Practice at OCAD University (Toronto). Most recently as Assistant Director of Eastern Edge Gallery (St. John’s), Mary organized the presentation of exhibitions and events, facilitated community programming, and produced the graphic design for the gallery. http://mfmacdonald.wordpress.com

The W(here) Festival is a part of Mary MacDonald’s graduate thesis work and ongoing research and is supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council.

* Pronounced Where Here Festival

Hope to see you on the 23rd!

January in Print
The deadline for the January print edition is November 1st.

Please direct all submissions and inquiries to editor@breadnmolasses.com

This two day workshop at the Nova Scotia Agricultural College is for people who want to learn about the creation of garden items from natural materials. It is an opportunity to learn how to lead groups in creating natural garden structures using living willow.

The Instructor: Deb Hart, a talented artist from England

Instructor/Technician – Landscape Management, Writtle College

Deb Hart

Deb Hart has developed her own creative skills as a willow weaver and runs a series of successful workshops with students, visiting school groups, and keen amateur gardeners. She has been commissioned to create imaginative horse jumps, living walls, and sculpture. In addition, her work has been featured on the Writtle College campus.  Pieces to be found there have included a range of functional garden items from structural supports for roses and innovative woven fences to fantasy inspired igloos and tunnels.

Participants in willow work classes have produced many garden features including abstract and animal sculptures, fences, and garden buildings. Deb has the ability to encourage the development of new skills and confidence in a friendly and supportive atmosphere.

Cost of registration – $200. The course will be limited to 20 participants. To register, contact cyndy@eastlink.ca

First swapper of the day Marc Cote trades for a dozen fresh organic eggs.

by Peter James

The rain came thick and fast the night before the first Swap Meet on May 2nd at Girvan Road, the same site as the annual Green Festival.

The local roads reverted to swamps, but all this could not dampen the sheer determination of a few locals to hold the first Swap Meet of the year.

So what is a Swap Meet? A place where anyone can bring items you do not need, or that you have too many of, and swap them for items you do need with no money changing hands.

Items brought included wax coated cone firelighters, a tent, organic free range eggs, many indoor and outdoor plants, golf trolley, jam preserves, clothes, guitar, many books, mugs, kitchen paraphernalia, fan, mirrors, metal door frames, and ornaments, to mention just a few items.

Those in attendance were Rachel and Peter James; Melissa, Natasha, Naomi, Jannika, and Krista Davis; Vonnie Mann, and Marc Cote. Michelle Kaye also donated swap items and her husband will be promoting a Tai Chi workshop for all ages at the next Swap Meet on June 6th at the same site.

Organiser Rachel James said, “It may take some time for people to make the most of the Swap Meet, and the roads do nothing to help, but as it costs nothing and you end up with something, then I am sure people will enjoy it. Also with the opportunity to picnic and walk around beautiful scenery it can make for an enjoyable break. With people travelling in from various towns and the local support, events like this can really draw people into a community. Even people with nothing to trade can come just for the conversation.”

Future dates, maps and gossip can be found by clicking here. Further information on the August Green Festival at www.TheGreenFestival.ca or email the organiser greenfestival@xplornet.com.

By Judy Bowman                                                                                                             

When I think about geraniums, what hits me first is the smell. The scent strikes your senses in exactly the same way that biting into tin foil does. The next thing is memory. My other mother, Christine, grew geraniums, bright red, saucy ones and African violets, exotic succulents with fur. From the time I could be trusted to take the garden path without wandering to the river, I spent every available moment in her presence. Fascinated by everything she did, I watched her plants bloom year round, and I’d help.

“Careful,” she’d say to me. “One drop of water on the leaves and they die.” I used to wonder how these plants survived in the torrents of rain I had read about in geography class. Now I think Christine just wanted to protect the wood of her table rather than the fragile plants cluttering it. I listened to her hum, convinced this was a secret language only plants could understand. Perhaps it was the humming that soaked love into the soil. She attempted to nurture my skill in growing these plants by giving me cuttings and leaves to root. My efforts failed, the cuttings would rot, or if they did root, they died either of drowning or thirst.

From her tending to plants, I trailed her to dusting and learned to savour the bite of lemon oil in my nostrils. I would watch for the gleam of sunlight emerging the grain of the wood in the wake of the polishing cloth and imitate her satisfied sigh. Later, she would unfurl yards of crisp cotton, to billow like sails across the dining room table. Dresses took shape. I knew these dresses would come to me as her daughters outgrew them, so it was like getting new clothes only I would have to wait a few years.

I worshipped Christine like the goddess Hestia.

The idea that I was separate from this family never occurred until separation came to me like a sudden jab of a needle during the haying season. The men were out in the back fields close to the woods. They couldn’t hear her call though she had a sharp, soprano voice. The signal for dinner was putting a jacket on the end of a pole and propping it against the front of the house. After being entrusted to this, I helped her set the table. I counted twice. Then she told me it was time for me to go home to my dinner, a small remark, not intended to hurt but it did. It occurred to me then that no matter how much time I spent there, I would now need an invitation to her table and I would never feel free enough to help myself from the cookie jar.

I began to compare the two homes I tried to live in simultaneously. At Christine’s the warm smell of fresh bread was the same as the bread my grandmother baked. The same type of food graced the table, only being my grandfather was a fisherman, we ate a lot more fish. (Today people rave at me about lobster, they can have it.) At Christine’s there was a complete family, a father, a mother and the four children, two boys and two girls at home and one away in the navy. They talked and laughed and most importantly, had dessert at every main meal. At my grandmother’s, there were two grandmothers, a grandfather and five children arguing over the bread, butter, and molasses.

Gradually, I pulled back from Christine, knowing that, as I recognized the vast differences in the two homes, I would not suffer them. Within a year, my parents arrived home. They packed up our belongings and took to the road again like gypsies or nomads. I didn’t return for thirty years.