Wow, it dawned on me today, as I was helping Nicole and Mark move the studio to their new place, that I never wrote about the wedding. Well, it was damn cool, if a little weird. You know what, I'm going to hold that thought until tomorrow. I don't feel particularly texty tonight.

Nick is cooking us dinner and it smells fantastic. I know, it's a bit late for dinner, but well, I was out until nearly 10pm and then we were both doing stuff.

It's time, now that I've had a full night of sleep, to recount the fun of Wednesday. After D&D, which was worthy of a comic - an idea that Ali and I are quite keen on producing - Ali and I retired to her room where she showed me many of her sketchbooks, and then I showed her my demo reel. She was quite excited about it, which was very nice, and it was much fun sharing art and ideas, and talking in grand terms of the future. Sleep was good, especially since she didn't steamroller me again, but not quite as long as I would have liked, since we went to bed very late, and I didn't want to sleep through my last day.

Ben was kind enough to loan me five bucks to see me through the day, and I headed to the Art Museum of Philadelphia, a fine, classically styled, established museum of no mean proportions. I think it is the best museum I've ever attended, or one of. I went into rooms I hadn't been before, for instance the armoury - WOW, only making limited use of the map as I rather enjoy being surprised, so some of the exhibits I found were ones I'd seen last year, but others were quite new and exciting. I happened into the temporary Barnett Newman exhibit, which isn't something I normally would have sought out, as he's one of those stripes-on-canvas artists from the '50s and '60s and I have little in the way of patience for such things... normally. I found myself in a large, sparse, pure hall, with enormous windows with white gauze over them, and fourteen or so equally massive canvases hanging on the vast walls. It was his "Stations of the Cross", in its entirety. I've seen a lot of art portraying the Passion, in many styles, but never in my life have I been so moved as I was by this one. He used the canvas in its natural state as a colour which he juxtaposed with black and white in lines, some rough, some smooth, that ran vertically over the broad pieces. It was so simple, so meditative...

That was not the only awesome surprise I beheld, either. I found, to my utter joy, one particular piece that I've studied many times in various classes. It was Roger van der Weyden's Crucifixion Diptych, which was painted around 1460. You can find it here, but they list it as separate left and right panels. Irritating. Anyway, I was happily stroling through some early Renaissance works of both Northern and Southern styles, when I turned a corner and passed through a salvaged piece of gothic cathederal only to be stopped dead in my tracks by this awesome work. It hangs alone on a section of wall that rises from the centre of the room in which it is located, with stools sitting before it should the viewer wish to contemplate it. The first thing that struck me was the awesome intensity of the red drapery that hangs behind each character set. Then I realised what I was beholding. It was so much larger than I'd imagined it could be, and it was completely breath-taking. There was no one in the room but a security guard so I wept in solitude. The power of the work, in person, was awe-inspiring. The magnificence was unbelievable. No work has ever made me weep. Especially beautiful animation has, at times, been known to cause such a response, but never before a painting. Words cannot express how I felt.

I bought half of the books offered on the sales table, and then quite spontaneously, I bought a student membership ! I figure, I've been there twice in a year, and if I can make it back once more, I'll get my money's worth. There's a massive Degas exhibition coming next winter/spring, so perhaps I'll make it for that one. I chatted with the women at the membership desk, and every one of them was Jewish. Crazy, in fact, one was telling me that their new Rabi was a woman who comes from Toronto. Nifty. Anyway, I returned to Ben's and proceded to pack my bags. Ali decided she would treat me to dinner, though I'd planned to treat them thanks to the Master of the Card, but she didn't let me. We went to a retro-styled malt/burger joint where we had excellent milkshakes and slightly less excellent burgers. Following that, we hoofed it to the station, and let me tell you, this was a lot of walking considering we were alternating my luggage full of artbooks and covering many, many blocks in very warm weather.

The busride home was long, but not obnoxiously so, and I finished my excellent book, Anne Bronte's "Tenant of Wildfell Hall", which so engrossed me that I lost four hours of bus time to flipping its pages. I also slept on and off quite a bit more than I did on the way down. My only complaint rests at Canadian Customs where the officers were officious and assholey beyond any good reason. I am pleased that I'm a citizen and white of skiin at times like that. They took quite a bit longer than we'd expected, so it was a good thing that the bus was only half full. I had the pair of seats to myself the whole trip and I was able to roll myself up and sleep with some level of comfort. Upon arriving in Toronto, I went straight to Heretic and slept for an hour and a half in the changerooms before working my full eight hours. Following that, I couldn't yet go home to sleep. No, I went to Julie's in order to celebrate her 70th birthday ! Mom was there, but sadly suffering from a migraine, but otherwise, thanks to renewed energy in the form of a fifth and sixth wind, I had quite an animatedly fun time. I hope my mom's feeling better today.

Tonight, Rick's taking me to the opera. I'm looking forward to it.

I will update soon. Presently, I am too exhasted to contemplate it.

Much more fun was had today, after much sleep. I won't go into details because I think we're going to have a random dungeon crawl with first level characters, but here's the low-down. Last night, after a nice long nap, I accompanied Ali (the official spelling) and Ben to the video store where we rented many things. I watched some Rowan Atkinson comedy with them, and then on Ali's recommendation, Fantasia 2000, which turned out to be excellent and beautiful, if a little hokey.

I shared the bed with Ali, which was a fun time, almost like a sleep-over, and then passed out. It was a wonderful sleep, even if Ali did nearly steamroller me at some point around six in the morning. I got up with her and as the two of them got ready for class, I got ready to meet up with Megan for Philly phun. We made a pilgrimmage for coffee, which was good, and then we headed to the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology. What can I say, it was a fantastic museum. Amazingly good. It had excellent information within every exhibit with language that treated the reader as though they might have a) a mind and, b) something resembling basic intelligence. It reminded me of the older archaeology exhibits of the ROM, which haven't been modernised, happily. Their Egyptian galleries were extensive and fascinating, they had a massive exhibition on the peoples of the Americas. It was completely not patronising and it was very beautiful. Much fun was had.

The one thing that amazed me was that the Arch. Museum had windows that were open, and fans blowing the air around. They don't seem to care how the atmosphere is maintained. It was so very old fashioned that it amazed me. And it was lovely, too. There was an ageless quality to the museum that just made it seem... perfect. It was exactly as it should be.

We walked around South St some, which was sort of fun, though not as extensive as Queen St. back in Toronto. There are some very good shops, though, and many places of food. Terry and Rho joined us (old buds from the Depeche Mode chat) and we went for Indian food on South St. The food was surprisingly good, since the place had the feeling of a pizzaria, even right down to the candy striped tables. We went off for coffee, afterwards and entered into a long, long conversation about all sorts of things, including Bush's stupid war and Canada/US relations. Rho, who is black, entered with me into a wonderful conversation about race and prejiduces and class distinctions - what a smart, awesome woman !

Now I'm back at Ben's and Ali's looking unimpressed with George Carlin on TV, and actually, I'm not finding it so funny, either. Well, okay, I am, but it's more offensive than usual. Wow, he says a lot of stuff we already think and don't ever have the guts to say. Go George ! Anyway, time for D&D. Tomorrow I'm going to the Art Museum. Much fun. Then another horrible bus ride and then straight to work. Crazy !

Hey ho, I'm in Philadelphia. This is my first entry from a foreign (sort ot) country. So far, it's been a blast, though I must say, there is something to recommend flying even if it costs more, just because fifteen hours in travel time is a really, really, really long time to sit in a bus. Okay, so there were a couple of hours of stops thrown in, but you get the idea.

The first segment of the trip, from Toronto to Niagara Falls, Ontario, was greatly enjoyed thanks to the lovely Scottish fellow who sat with me. I met him in the line at the terminal and ask whether I could trust him to look after my things while I ran to buy snacks. His answer was, "I dennoo, cahn ye trust meh?" I just grinned and offered to buy him a snack too. Anyway, I came back and he said, "Ye really shoo not trust strange men," with a big smile. Instant friends ! We sat together and soon enough, the two hours were over and I had to wish him a good journey home, since after seven months of world travel, he was finally returning to Glasgow on Wednesday. He did offer that if I wasn't in a rush to get to Philly, I could stay and wander around Niagara Falls with him and take the night bus to New York (good travel company is hard to find, apparently) but I explained the cause of my journey and he understood my need for speed. We didn't exchange emails, which is sort of a shame as he was quite interesting, but if he ever stumbles on this log, GOOD LUCK, KEN !

I was, naturally, not even bothered at Customs. "You were born in New York State?" "Yes, I absolutely was." "Have a nice trip." Oh well, I'm not sure why it was disappointing, but it was a bit of a let down. I'd hoped for metal detectors or something, hell, even having one bag opened would have been somewhat fun. Shucks.

At Buffalo, I was horribly disappointed to discover that the greasy spoon I like, the one at the back of the terminal that ISN'T the official restaurant, closes at 3pm on Sundays, and naturally, it was 3:30pm when we pulled in. I had a flabby cheeseburger from the restaurant and then got back on the bus. It was suggested I ried the express to NYC, but I declined, as Megs was going to pick me up at 4am in Philly, and I could either sleep on a bus, or sit for four hours at the New York Port Authority. Uh. Ya. Anyway, it afforded me a scenic ride through the Finger Lakes, principally Geneva, where our neighbours at the cottage have a farm - it was a beautiful spot ! Also, I saw Ithica for the first time, and though dusk was setting in, it was still quite a lovely town, full of old, eccentric homes. I had been disappointed by the lame skater that had sat next to me from Buffalo to Ithica, but he got off there, and I had the pair of seats to myself for the rest of the trip into New York.

I slept a bit, on and off, though hardly in any decent way, but by the time we were an hour out of NYC, I woke up and there was no putting me to sleep again. I just got so excited to be gonig home, even if it was only through the Port Authority. I sat bolt upright, watching for that first glimpse of the skyline, and though I knew it would look... wrong, I was quite surprised when the tears rolled down my cheeks. It was that first glimpse, fleeting, over the top of a hill that did it, and when it rematerialised five minutes later, the shock was over. The sight of the city, my home, the greatest city in the world (in my opinion), so changed just by the lack of two buildings remains difficult to describe. Later, in Philly, I told Megan about it and she nodded and said that she felt that way every time she saw the skyline. The city itself was bustling, though, and the terminal was buzzing with thousands of people transfering to buses all over the continent. It was sort of amazing.

The line at the Philly gate afforded me another bonding experience, with a fellow named Vincent, who commutes every month back and forth to school in New Hampshir, from Little Rock, Arkansas. Amazing ! It seems, their masters programme in community development is ranked number one in the US, so he makes the 37 hour bus ride there, stays for three days, and the same bus ride back, monthly He'd fly, only he hates flying. He was quite interested in Canada's take on Bush's 'war' and while I'm not sure of the feelings of the entire country, I was able to tell him that many people were disturbed by the thought of Bush trying to take Canadian soldiers into Iraq, including the Prime Minister. I also explained that Canada hasn't fought active combat since Korea and we weren't entirely keen to be doing it now. We like being peace-keepers. He was very interested in politics and world issues, and his opinions on how communities must act in order to pull out of poverty were quite interesting. He did give me his email and I will write him. He was interesting.

On the bus to Philly, I conked out soundly for most of the trip, thankfully, and before I noticed, my Stephane Grapelli album had played two and a half times and we were pulling into the ctiy. Megan was there to pick me up (bless her !) and we went to the South St Diner. I ate scrapple. It's some sort or pork thing, and after much contemplation and thoughtful chewing, I realised it was a lot like a flat slab version of a Dutch crogeette. Needless to say, it was delicious and probably very bad for me. Yum ! We sat and talked over much coffee and finally, around 7am, she deposited me at Ben's house. I managed to get another hour of sleep (and had a GREAT dream about my mother being given this awesome job in Louisisana where she had to make this old plantation mansion into a viable resort in order to pay for it's renovation. The dream was in vivid 'technicolor' and was something of an Agatha Christie mystery crossed with "Showboat").

I woke up at 9am and dragged myself into the bathroom to change my clothes and make myself presentable in order to go to the Franklin Mint Museum for the Brom exhibition. I was sooooo excited ! We got there late, and I was worried we had caused anxiety to Anthony, but, as it turned out, he too, was substantially late. Let me just express here how FANTASTIC the exhibit was. It was full of his works over the last seven years, or so, up to 2001, and gave a varied spectrum of his talents. I admit that I envy him his talent. He is simply fantastic. What is even more amazing is that so much of his work comes straight out of his head, though it is clear he has studied form and figure, as well as looked at the past masters, and I don't just mean in his genre. He understands that veins show green and blue through translucent skin and that there is solidity beneath flesh. He uses light and shadow to great effect and has an innated understanding of the human figure - and not simply in a comic art sort of way. There was one piece where he'd drawn extensively on the PreRaphaelite tradition, only without the sugary romanticism, yet as evocative of a story as any "lady of Shalot" ever was.

Brom was there, himself, of course. There was much pressure from Anthony and Ally (sp?) - Ben's housemate, and Ben for me to talk to him. It's amazing how none of them thought that THEY should talk to him. Anyway, I finally dug up the courage, mostly because Anthony threatened to approach Brom himself on my behalf and went up to him. He automatically reached for the book of his art that I was holding, and I explained that I had come down from Toronto, Canada just to see this exhibition and meet him. He was pretty impressed with that. Heck, it even beat out the couple that had come from Montreal. They only had to travel 11 hours which is nothing compared to my 15 and a half ! I proceded to ask him some questions, including those on behalf of Ally who had managed to just barely avoid clamming up completely, and he answered readily. He did want to know how I'd heard about his exhibit and I said that it was through his webpage and he got all excited and started to talk about how he wanted to do more with it and he was slowly learning the webdesign programme that would allow him to take over the site himself. Anthony mustered up the courage to jump into the conversation, too, and the three of us had a rather animated discussion about the influences his work was having on industries beyond traditional illustration, etc., and we amassed a rather large group of people who were listening to the discussion. I did not have the nerve to ask him if I could send him some of my work, but his email is on the site and he does read it, so chances are, he'll remember the girl from Canada. He had lots of advice for us wee artists apsiring to his level and we lapped itup. And he signed my book in a most excellent way.

Anthony treated the three of us to lunch because we're poor and he isn't, and he remembers all too well the pain of artschool and the confusion that comes after. Anthony is a lovely guy and Ally and Ben thought so too. He also looked at our sketchbooks and gave us all good advice for what to do to improve our skills and portfolios. To Ben and Ally he said they HAVE to work from life, and from the masters, and he was disgusted at how little life drawing was offered at their school. To me he said that it was time I took some of the stuff in my book and start 'working it up'. I know what he means, and I will.

Anyway, now my two hosts have gone off to their evening classes and I'm going to phone my mom and then take a nap. There is a rumour we might play some D&D tonight, since I never go anywhere without my dice. Tomorrow, Megan and I (and maybe Terry) are going to hit the Archaeology Museum and have dinner. As for Wednesday, I'm not sure if I'll go to the Art Museum or to the Afro-American Art Museum. Maybe I'll do the former and save the latter for the next time I'm out, because there WILL be another time.