Was my number up? Well, I did disappear for a while, I guess about a month… Was traveling (my first trip back to Canada post-immigration to Spain), visited with friends and family, met and spent some quality time with my wonderful, gorgeous, brand-new (okay, 10-week-old but new to me) niece…

Am now back home, in Barcelona. Had a busy week of driving practice sessions, also wrote my PER (Patrón de Embarcaciones de Recreo, aka “boating”) exam. (The Catalan acronym is the awkward “PEE” — Patró d’Embarcacions d’Esbarjo.) This one was longer and more complicated, but at the same time more forgiving than the driving theory test, since you were allowed up to 17 wrong out of 65…but I got only two wrong. It involved a wide range of of new concepts, and so I’m pretty “chuffed” to have done so well, including 100% on all the critical regulation questions, buoys, coastal navigation solutions (which are not just multiple choice; your drawn/written solution must also be right).

What most deserves a mention right now, though, was a play we went to see last night. It was in English, up on Montjuïc at the Teatre Lluire, with Catalan surtitles. [Part of Grec’08.] My favourite playwright/director by far is Quebec’s Robert Lepage. I have seen every of his works I could, include six-hour-plus epics (The Dragons’ Trilogy). This show, “A Disappearing Number” by the troupe Complicité (conceived/directed by Simon McBurney), was brilliant, and reminded me very much of a Lepage-style production. Very technical, lots of video projections, moving/adapting set pieces, innovative leaps through time and space. It was far more captivating than a movie, and the two hours flew by.

It followed several parallel stories in different times, mainly revolving around the life of Indian math genius Srinivasa Ramanujan (1887-1920). Imagine a play all about math, starting out with a whiteboard lecture that was probably above most peoples’ heads, tons of formulae, abstract concepts, string theory…and yet every person there was completely enraptured, I’m convinced. The five curtain calls the actors received at the end were proof of that (I was impressed that the Barcelona audience didn’t give a standing ovation — no “freebies” to troupes performing here, as in some cities that shall remain nameless — even though these folks certainly deserved one).

It was a brilliant piece of work. A true inspiration — the kind of thing that leaves you wishing you’d gotten involved in theatre years ago…

…with those eyes of yours. The makers of a new Canadian short film have integrated real eye performances with stop-motion animated puppets. The result looks quite spectacular: both emotionally engaging and spooky. The NFB-supported film, Madame Tutli-Putli, looks fantastic, at least judging from the trailer and “making of” stuff I’ve seen on the web. I can’t wait to be able to see it in its entirety.

The eye replacement “trick” they’re using is something that I’m sure will be copied in Hollywood and independent films alike, simply because it’s a great idea. It may be a ton of work to do well (read more about portrait artist Jason Walker’s digital compositing work here, or look at the gallery on his site), but hey — what isn’t painstaking in the animation world?

I suppose it would be only fair to mention the vaguely similar yet completely different Québécois animation phenomenon called Têtes à Claques. (Caution: only attempt to enjoy these goofy episodes if you are fluent in Joual! ;-)

In the same way that the bullet-time effect became almost cliché after The Matrix showed us how cool it was, I wonder if, in a few years, we will be rolling our eyes (quick, someone, grab a video camera!) to see this new technique being used in yet another film. For now, though, it’s fresh and innovative — if Madame Tutli-Putli is screened in your town, go see it and simply enjoy the filmmakers’ magical visual style. Also, its about riding a train cross-country, which is always cool. I haven’t seen it yet, so I can’t claim to know Mme. T-P personally. But on first appearance I think she looks like she may be the love-child of Amélie Poulain and Charlie Chaplin. Could be the hat. Or maybe it’s those big eyes.

Yes he can…make fascinating installation art, that is. Thanks to CircusBoy for sending me the link, this stuff is “right up my alley.” In fact, I spent some time this week gazing into a slowly boiling pot of water, thinking: “can I film this process without getting my camera full of steam?” I decided the answer was: “no,” and so I simply continued watching in awe… Isn’t turbulent nature great?

As a friend of mine would say: “Ooh, transparency!”

And now, on to Ned’s site…be sure to check out the videos, in particular! I love the cloud rings (hmm, if only I were a smoker, I could make my own smoke rings!); the seven-storey indoor tornado; the “wind veil” that flows like wind through grass and masks the ugly concrete parking structure behind.

Last weekend we spent a surreal weekend in Cadaqués. This is up the coast from Barcelona an hour-and-a-bit, and features the spectacular rocky landscape of Cap de Creus, which is the easternmost point of the Iberian peninsula.

Why surreal? Well, over the hill from Cadaqués is Port Lligat, where Salvador Dalí had his home (Casa Museu virtual visit). You can visit the home (and we did), which is full of the quirks of his very diverse and eccentric artistic life.

On the way back to Barcelona, we stopped in nearby Figueres, where the Teatre Museu Dalí is located. He built his own museum, what a guy! One thing that is evident…he knew how to market himself, how to make a splash (or at least a controversy).

Eggs in Lligat, more eggs here on the roof of the museum in Figueres. Egg shapes were a Dalí favourite, along with glossy red lips, ants, the Michelin Man, swans and yes, melted clocks. And of course, his beloved Gala, who also modeled for so many works. If you want to see his personal life, see the casa in Port Lligat. If you want to see his work, go to the Museu in Figueres. Note that there is another museum in Púbol, in the castle he bought for Gala (his muse and wife). We went a few years ago but it was closed (opens March 15). This time, it was open, but we didn’t pass through Púbol, so it’ll have to wait for another time.

The house was more enjoyable, in a way, because it was so less full of people. It felt intimate, seeing his mounted swans and bear; his angled mirror so he could wake up to the “first rays of sun in the peninsuala”; the giant mechanism to allow him to manoeuvre huge canvases and paint them while remaining seated! Also, all of Gala’s press clippings about Dalí, plastered to the walls; the room for models to prepare themselves.

The gallery in Figueres was great to see so much of his art in one place, with so many different styles and experiments he did (from cubism to surrealism, sculpture, writing, stereoscopy and holograms — to name but a few!). And what museum would be complete without a crypt holding the very artist himself! I guess he is part of the permanent collection there…

An unexpected thing I discovered here was another artist: Antoni Pitxot. In fact, I went away from the Dalí gift shop with only one thing — and it wasn’t by Dalí! It was a painting of scattered stones (vaguely forming an image of a reclining woman) by Pitxot, that I had seen in the museum. The two were friends, and there is an exhibition of Pitxot’s work on the top floor. Rock and stone are so representative of the landscape here. You see the soft round Costa Brava beach-stones in Pitxot’s work; the skeletal, jagged volcanic landscape of the region reflected in many of Dalí’s forms; in the same way, you see the rounded natural “figures” of Monserrat in Gaudí’s architectural forms.

Besides the art, Cap de Creus itself was spectacular. The most amazing things was the blue, blue sea. It was a clear day, and the water was spectacular, something you’d associate more with sandy tropical beaches than rugged crashing sea! The wind was insane, that day. I thought I’d experienced the most extreme wind in Patagonia a few years ago, but this wind rivalled that, or may have even exceeded it. I didn’t have my portable anemometer (wind meter) with me, but I’m certain there were blasts well in excess of 100 km/h. Probably to 120 or beyond, at times…truly wind to knock you off your feet, which is a bit dangerous when you’re trying to walk along jagged volcanic rocks with very uneven footing to start with! Just putting a hand down, for balance, will likely leave you with some scraped-off skin; that’s how sharp and rough the rock is here.

We enjoyed a delicous paëlla, Catalan-style, in the restaurant on the point. I believe it’s owned by the same folks that run Cardamon in Barcelona, and Can Shelabi in Cadaqués (both great restaurants, too, and now I’ve been to all, done the “hat trick”). If not the same owners, at least they have some co-marketing agreement on their menus and business cards… The poor building rumbled and shuddered in the ferocious wind. A long wait to get a table, even though we had reserved ahead (sigh!), but well worth it for the view and the food (as long as you didn’t mind the dogs, which people seem to find less objectionable in restaurants here as they would in, say, Canada). Well — live and let live, as they say. When in Rome, and all that… Just don’t let him pee on my leg.

Tip: do yourself a favour and don’t go to Cadaqués and area during summer. These places are mobbed with sun-seekers then. I hate to imagine trying to navigate the sometimes-only-wide-enough-for-one-car roads around Cadaqués with a thousand other motorists. This was the perfect time of year to go (maybe just a touch too cool, this particular weekend anyhow). If you get a sunny spring or fall day, you’re in for a treat, because it’s quite spectacular…the towns, the landscape, the sea. And the emptiness…ahhhh…

(Never? Oh. That’s a relief. Me neither.)

Yes, that does mean “lots of shit”, but in Spanish it is also the thing they say (in theatre) to wish each other “bad luck” (which is good, just ask Michael Jackson about this Bad/Good conundrum). It is analogous to our expression “break a leg” (también se dice en español: ¡Rómpete una pierna!).

I offer this load of crap (in a good way) to Berkeley-based artist Mel Davis, whose exhibition of New Paintings opens today at the NavtaSchulz Gallery in Chicago. If you’re in Chicago, lucky you! Check them out — these are paintings that really have to be experienced (not merely seen on the web).

Do you suppose there is an equivalent expression to offer to painters? What’s the worst that could happen… “Frizz a brush”? “Bend a knife”? “Fracture a wrist”? “Lose an eye”?

Anyhow, dare I say it: Congratulations and good luck moving those babies. Bring on the red dots!

I suppose I should be saying that in Catalan (perhaps someone will give me a pointer…I think it’s: feliç aniversari). Why? Because today is Catalan surrealist painter and sculptor Joan Miró’s “eleventy-third” birthday. He truly had molts anys, since he was born in 1893 (where else but in Barcelona?) and died in 1983.

If you’re ever in Barcelona and want to know more, go up Montjuïc and have a walk through the Fundació Miró.

I like the idea of those “daily creative thingy” sites, where the author/artist creates an image, comic, or something every day. (It’s the idea I like, as I said — you’re not likely to catch me doing it!) It’s quite a commitment, and I think the trick is to stop doing it when (if) it becomes a chore.

A few examples (my hat’s off to them…or maybe it’s only off because the nice weather has finally come to Montréal):

• Boring 3D (click on Archive). Was creating a 3D image (with strange/funny caption) daily for a few years, now is less frequent.
• toothpaste for dinner. Simple drawings with simple text.
• Married to the sea. Done by the same person as “toothpaste”(?), but it’s a completely different (and very funny!) idea.
• Truly silly (in a fun way), the guy at Aural Times (temporary mirror site) sings a news story (or should I say a new news story?) every two or three days.
• DailyScribble Sketchblog from a collective of “sketchers”…
• …and of course on the commercial side, publishing a new “creative thing” every day is nothing new!

Then there’s a slew of similar things, where an image, word (or something) is highlighted each day.

• Astronomy Picture of the Day, or the more general NASA Image of the Day.
• Earth Science Picture of the Day.
• Even good old Wikipedia has its own Picture of the day.
• National Geographic POD.
• Foto del día from an artist’s collective (based in Chile).
• Or get “Interesting Photos” from the last seven days on Flickr — a seemingly endless supply (just keep hitting “reload”!).
• More of a verbal person than visual? How about the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day (of another from Dictionary.com)? Perhaps a Quotation of the Day?
• What happened on This Day in History? (por ejemplo: Pope John Paul II died a year ago today)
• Want some humour (that is, if you consider puns to be humour)?
• Prefer a poem?

Even if you yourself aren’t doing something “per day”, these things can provide plenty of inspiration for your own creative projects, whenever you do do them!

P.S. Of course, most people share their “daily creative thingies” using blogging software, you don’t need to. You can just author normal HTML pages and use something simple and cool like RSSPECT to syndicate your work!

Montréal photographer François Brunelle is working on an interesting project, looking for look-alikes who — other than their appearance — have no relationship to each other. Not necessarily famous people; just everyday folk. He got the project started after repeatedly being told he looked just like Mr. Bean. (Incidentally, that means he must also look just like José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, the prime minister of Spain and a remarkable look-alike to Mr. Bean!) If you’ve seen someone who looks just like you, or like someone you know, get in touch with Brunelle — you could be part of the project!

Appearance and similarity can be pretty subjective. I’ve been told (at various times and by various people) that I evoke popcorn magnate Orville Redenbacher (c’mon!), King Juan Carlos I of Spain, Kermit the Frog and actor Ed Norton. King Orville Norton the Frog? Leaves a lot to the imagination, doesn’t it?

A few years ago I remember hearing about the 639-year-long John Cage organ performance in Halberstadt, Germany (which started in 2001). For those of you who don’t know, Cage was the modern composer most famous for his 4′33″ of silence (in three movements, no less!). The choice to define “As Slow As Possible” as requiring 639 years seemed arbitrary and slightly ridiculous — until I read more about the project. It’s definitely one of those things that impresses more and more as you learn more of its details. (But I’ll let you read those details for yourself, if you’re interested.)

Speaking…o.f…….s..l..o..w……… (and on a closely-related theme), I recently heard about an interesting organization, The Long Now Foundation, which is committed to long-term thinking, planning and archiving (long term as in a 10,000 Year Clock!). Among its board members is musician Brian Eno. They promote “slower/better” thinking as an alternative to today’s “faster/cheaper” mindset. I loved the essay by Stewart Brand, where he quotes Danny Hillis, talking about how we used to look forward and imagine what life might be like in the year 2000. Each year, our future seemed to “shrink” as we approached 2000. And now, it seems “no one mentions a future date at all.”