Tuesday, September 30th13.8°C
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Finding Kelowna

Into the abyss of change

memory…

I am a visitor milling about in a church, when I see an enormous young woman with red hair. My childhood prejudice against red-headed, gum-chewing women with bouquets of freckles could be easily set aside, but it’s the airy display of bosom – as wide as a Saskatchewan sky – that startles me.

She is a flurry of activity, flinging her girth through the crowded corridor like a battering ram that touches no one, yet spreads a pathway wide and clear. I make way for this Paleolithic goddess, whose chest bursts forth unashamedly.

After the service I drive to Wal-Mart for shopping. As I round a corner at the frozen food section a woman rushes into view, and reaches upward for a large can of something. Her plump face is adorned with piercings that defiantly shout bite me! And her blouse is worn as if it had been torn asunder for all to see her tattoo of a massive skull, encrusted with red roses and wings.

Days later I meet an elderly woman on one of my many walks through Brandt’s Creek Park. Conversation flows easily, and she shares dismay about the values and sensibilities of the younger men and women of the city. She speaks about the municipal election, saying – “…all those women running for office…we need more men in there. A few women are okay…but they should be at home looking after their children.” Bewildered by the impulses that propel many of her younger sisters, she speaks like one who has stumbled into a landscape of distorted forms.

I was a stripling teen when I first heard the phrase generation gap. It provoked a kind of liberating glee that allowed me to explore the destiny of my generation unhindered; all the while knowing that I was safely tethered and could be reeled in if I wandered too far.

In this new civilization being born the distance between my elderly acquaintance and the women I meet on this day seems to widen; hands reach across the canyon but they do not link. Youth has become its own parent, and the voices of those who could reel it in often fall without a sound into the abyss of change.



Read more Finding Kelowna articles

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About the Author

Giovanni is a poet, columnist, interviewer and photographer. His passion for literature and the writing arts began at three years of age when his mother read to him the poems of Giovanni Pascoli.

Finding Kelowna, as he explains it in his website of the same name, is a focus on the ordinary events, people and things that often go unnoticed. Its purpose is to reveal the startling brilliance of everyday life which may be beautiful, tragic or bizarre. Giovanni does this in a creative way that spotlights the sudden encounters, poignant moments and unusual circumstances that pepper daily life.

Through chance conversations and unexpected occurrences, the tone and character of Kelowna and its surroundings is explored. In so doing, Giovanni hopes that the reader will catch a glimpse of himself and of humanity in all its glorious imperfection.

To comment on his columns you may write to him at [email protected]. You may read other articles he has written by viewing his website at www.findingkelowna.com.  You may view his photography blog at www.gioklik.com, and read his poems, stories and perspectives at www.yzed.wordpress.com.

Like Humans of Kelowna on Facebook!  https://www.facebook.com/humansofkelowna




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The views expressed are strictly those of the author and not necessarily those of Castanet. Castanet presents its columns "as is" and does not warrant the contents.


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