NetSquared Camp 2010

Okay, now that the film festival’s done, I’m finally free to blog about NetSquared Camp 2010, an unconference of activists, technologists, entrepreneurs, and assorted geeks who want to make the world a better place, in a full-day extravaganza of sharing and networking. It was my first NetSquared Camp ever, and I’m still digesting everything I’ve learned. Here’s a rundown of the talks I attended:

Okay, now that the film festival’s done, I’m finally able to blog about NetSquared Camp 2010, an unconference of activists, technologists, entrepreneurs, and assorted geeks who want to make the world a better place, in a full-day extravaganza of sharing and networking. It was my first NetSquared Camp ever, and I’m still digesting everything I’ve learned. Here’s a rundown of the talks I attended:

Social Media Ninja School

Cecilia Lu, owner of Kiwano Marketing, started off my day with some tips on using social media to promote one’s brand.

The first thing to do, she says, is to sit down and set some goals. Is this going to be your business or personal brand? What are the measurable results? Fundraising, volunteering, or just exposure of your brand/message? With so many entrepreneurs in Vancouver, it’s important to make your message uniquely you, to catch people’s attention.

Now that we have a focus, we got some practical tips. The question of corporate twitter accounts was raised. What if more than one person is tweeting? Should you use different accounts, or the same account but marked with your initials or something?

Now, how do you talk to people? Don’t be afraid of trying conversations. Engage someone online by following them, then replying or commenting (but intelligently) if you have something to say. Don’t be shy, and you can find clients, friends, even mentors.

And what’s the ROI? Sales (or whatever your goal is) are not going to skyrocket overnight. It usually takes time to build trust, and it will take you time to build a voice, as well. The best thing you can do in the beginning is to listen.

Measuring Social Media Success

Darren Barefoot has co-written a book on social media marketing, based on his years of experience, and that morning he walked us through some of its insights, condensing it into ten basic rules, including:

  • Set quantifiable objectives (as opposed to things like public opinion, or “brand”)
  • Beware of creatively named metrics, like “engagement.”
  • Measure everything.
  • Iterate rapidly, and
  • Fail fast. (These two ideas come from the world of software. Social media is very young, and we’re still figuring it out.)

And, the acronym POST, representing the necessary steps of any social media campaign, in their proper order:

  1. People
  2. Objective
  3. Strategy
  4. Technology

You have to start with people, but so many just start with technologies.

Many of the examples he gave us were taken from his recent work on The Big Wild, a conservation site big on infographics, clear and simple navigation, and easy actions to take. Perfectly consistent with his earlier talk at Northern Voice on doing good on the Web.

(And here are the slides of his talk)

All About SEO

This very informal talk was facilitated by Sean Cranbury, who works as a media consultant.

We talked a bit about keyword research and testing. Google Keyword Tool is your friend here. You need to look for keywords with high cost per click but low competition. That’ll help you stand out from the crowd.

Apparently meta tags don’t make a difference with Google rankings, though they used to once upon a time. For small businesses, you shouldn’t worry too much about keywords; authenticity and passion count for a lot. Quality content is important, of course, but there’s also metadata, dates and locations. All of that counts too. I think it’s here that someone brought up Google Maps as an advertising tool. Create a custom map, add whatever landmarks you wish (like, say, your business), make it public, and voilà, now you’re searchable in Google Maps or Google Earth. It seems this is an amazingly useful but so far underutilised advertising tool.

Then you’ve got the old standbys: blogging, twittering (and don’t forget hash tags!) WordPress provides many SEO opportunities. Sean mentioned a couple of themes that are heavy on SEO: Canvas, and Thesis.

Converting a static site to WordPress (or any other CMS): change as little as possible, including the URLs. If needed, use 301 redirects.

And, of course, to bring in incoming links, you have to have people engage with the site.

Finally, Google Adwords are a good way to test if your SEO campaign will really end up with the results you want. A campaign may last for months, and you want to know right away if it’s going to be worth it.

Advertising Campaigns

Another presentation by Darren Barefoot, on the finer points of Google ad campaigns.

Adwords show up in Google searches, which means we have to focus on keywords first and foremost.

Our ads compete for the top spot; Money × Quality determine your ranking. You pay per click, so it’s okay if an ad isn’t working.

To start, be as specific as you want. To write the ads, use good copywriting, make it compelling. Create landing pages for each of those ads so the action is immediately available, don’t send them to your home page. Then, you want to track conversions or other actions, which is what his earlier talk was all about.

Facebook ads are very different from Google ads, because you can target them by age, gender, or any other preferences.

As a final note, Google ads are not good for revenue generation unless you’re covering your site with ads, and/or have lots of traffic.

Conclusion

NetSquared was an amazing and inspiring experience, with excellent people who I learned a lot from, and who I may be able to help in return. There’s so much being done right here in this city, and I’m going to be a part of it. More than before, I mean.

Also, I have to give a shoutout to Nuba, where a whole bunch of us went to eat. The food was excellent (I’d never tried Lebanese cuisine before), and they handled our large group perfectly well.

Old poetry brought to life

Excellent post to cap off National Poetry Month, right? This is a clip of Natalie Merchant singing a selection of songs from her latest album; all the songs in this album are adapted from old poems.

Ghosts, right? They have nothing to say to us… obsolete, gone… Not so! What I really enjoyed about this project was reviving these people’s words, taking them off the dead, flat pages, bringing them to life.

Excellent post to cap off National Poetry Month, right? This is a clip of Natalie Merchant singing a selection of songs from her latest album, Leave Your Sleep; all the songs in this album are adapted from old poems.

My favourites in this video are Charles Edward Carryl’s The Sleepy Giant (00:15) and E.E. Cummings’ maggie and milly and molly and may (8:00). I’ve purchased the whole album from iTunes, and I’m sure I’ll have more favourites before long.

The Olympic Opening Ceremony

It was not a nice day. The weather was cool and overcast, predicted to rain in the evening. Which it did, but that didn’t stop me from going down to David Lam Park in Yaletown to watch the opening ceremony. My jacket had a hood and was waterproof, but I could have used a layer or two more. At the end I was starving, shivering, and my legs and neck were killing me.

It was totally worth it. The ceremony was beautiful and stirring, a wonderful showcase of our country’s culture and diversity that, dammit, made you proud to be Canadian!

It was not a nice day. The weather was cool and overcast, predicted to rain in the evening. Which it did, but that didn’t stop me from going down to David Lam Park in Yaletown to watch the opening ceremony. My jacket had a hood and was waterproof, but I could have used a layer or two more. At the end I was starving, shivering, and my legs and neck were killing me.

The setup

But it was totally worth it. The ceremony was beautiful and stirring, a wonderful showcase of our country’s culture and diversity that, dammit, made you proud to be Canadian!

The bad: the embarrassing mechanical hiccup at the end, cheating Catriona Le May Doan out of her part in lighting the cauldron. Boy, someone’s head is gonna roll over that.

And Nikki Yanofsky’s rendition of O Canada was incredibly annoying. She’s a great singer, but the anthem doesn’t need all those frills, which messed up everybody who tried to sing along. Though I appreciated that she switched between French and English.

(Come to think of it, the whole ceremony was very bilingual, with all announcements and introductions done in French first, but the countries were introduced in alphabetical order according to their English names. Usually that doesn’t matter, but then you’ve got Netherlands vs. Pays-Bas, or Uzbekistan vs. Ouzbékistan.)

The meh: Nelly Furtado and Bryan Adams’ duet. The song was alright, I guess, but I’m not a fan of those two. Also leaving me cold was Measha Brueggergosman’s rendition of the Olympic Hymn. Sorry, she’s got some incredible pipes, but I couldn’t understand a word she was singing. I could tell some parts were in English and others in French, but that’s about it. I’m not even sure she wasn’t sneaking other languages in there.

The awesome: pretty much everything else, really. The First Nations greeting and dance was stunning, Ashley MacIsaac kicked so much ass, and k.d. lang blew me away. Not to mention the outstanding visual effects, with the whales, and the breaking ice, and the trees, and the audience participation, and the… everything.

So hey, I finally caught the Olympic spirit!

What’s inspiring me

AdamSchwabe.com: a wonderfully clean, minimalist site. Not just in the look; note that a lot of common blog functionality is missing: Category listings or tag cloud? Browsable archives? Blogroll? It has none of these things, and doesn’t especially need them. What it does have is a beautiful and effective navigation scheme that uses colour to let you know exactly where you are, and a layout that lets the eye flow naturally to the content. Hey, that’s what you get when the author’s a user interface designer. AdamSchwabe.com teaches me that less is indeed more.

Plus, it’s what introduced me to colourlovers.com, so bonus points there.

Avalonstar:distortion is the total opposite in many ways. It’s dark. It’s busy. But you know what? it works. The author puts in tons of fun little extra bits, from “Welcome to Avalonstar” in Japanese to the closing “</and this would be the end>” tag at the very bottom. The site is fun to read. If you can pull it off, more can definitely be more.

Mind you, a design is nothing without content, and the two above sites has it in spades. And that’s something else for me to work on (not that I haven’t already).

Elements: Architecture in detail. Not a website, but a book. The other day I was in The Book Warehouse on Davie, and this caught my eye right from the top shelf. Aside from the lovely shots of contemporary architecture, the book’s message is that the devil is in the details. For the whole to work, all the components have to be working first.

Oh, and that day I also bought Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, Terry Pratchett’s Nation, A Hat Full of Sky and Wintersmith. They didn’t have The Wee Free Men, though. Bummer.

Foggy

I took the day off sick. No, I really wasn’t feeling well, this wasn’t so I could watch the US Inauguration live—though that was a nice bonus. And I’d like to say that, as Barack Hussein Obama took his oath of office, that the damn fog that’s been hanging around downtown Vancouver for the last, oh, ten days at least, miraculously parted, letting the daystar shine down on my light-hungry eyes.

I took the day off sick. No, I really wasn’t feeling well, this wasn’t so I could watch the US Inauguration live—though that was a nice bonus. And I’d like to say that, as Barack Hussein Obama took his oath of office, that the damn fog that’s been hanging around downtown Vancouver for the last, oh, ten days at least, miraculously parted, letting the daystar shine down on my light-hungry eyes.

Not so much, though. But I did go out for a bit this afternoon and shot some pictures around Sunset Beach, something I’d been meaning to do for a while but there just wasn’t enough light before or after work.

False Creek Ferry

Back to the Inauguration, I loved Obama’s speech, stressing the familiar themes of unity, service and hope. And how, with impeccable class and without naming names, he repudiated everything the Bush/Cheney administration did and stood for.

But I have to give a shoutout to Reverend Joseph Lowery, who gave the ending benediction. Yes, I know, I’m not happy with invoking gods in what should be a secular ceremony, but… seriously, this guy’s awesome! Humility, humour, great timing and delivery, true dedication to his brothers and sisters. Washed the bitter taste of that blowhard bigot Rick Warren’s prayer right out of my mouth.

And, as long as I’m posting videos, here’s the great Maya Angelou reading a poem at Bill Clinton’s 1993 inauguration.

Graphic Novel Review: Fun Home

I love Alison Bechdel’s Dykes To Watch Out For, and have from the day I came out and picked up my first GO-Info (strip # 140, “The Last Tango”, where Mo and Harriet have sex one last time before breaking up for good). Until it ended earlier this year, it was the first thing I read when picking up Xtra! West, and I could always count on it to make me laugh make me think, or both. I own all the collected books, including The Indelible Alison Bechdel.

But, there was one book of hers missing from my collection: a non-DTWOF book I didn’t even know existed until this summer, when I saw it as part of an exhibition on animation and comics at the Art Gallery. I read it all the way through in one sitting, absolutely captivated.

Fun Home Cover
Well you should see my story-reading baby
You should hear the things that she says
She says “Hon, drop dead, I’d rather go to bed
With Gabriel García Márquez
Cuddle up with William S. Burroughs
Leave on the light for bell hooks
I’ve been flirtin’ with Pierre Burton
‘Cause he’s so smart in his books”

—Moxy Früvous, “My Baby Loves A Bunch Of Authors”

I love Alison Bechdel’s Dykes To Watch Out For, and have from the day I came out and picked up my first GO-Info (strip # 140, “The Last Tango”, where Mo and Harriet have sex one last time before breaking up for good). Until it ended earlier this year, it was the first thing I read when picking up Xtra! West, and I could always count on it to make me laugh, make me think, or both. I own all the collected books, including The Indelible Alison Bechdel.

But, there was one book of hers missing from my collection: a non-DTWOF book I didn’t even know existed until this summer, when I saw it as part of an exhibition on animation and comics at the Art Gallery. I read it all the way through in one sitting, absolutely captivated. It’s poignant, disturbing in parts, brutally honest, yet at the same time masterfully intellectual and literate. A couple of weeks ago I bought it as a Christmas present to myself, and I’ve been compulsively rereading it over and over again. I guess this post is a way to get it out of my head.

In brief, Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic is the story of Bechdel’s growing up, and her complicated relationship with her father. A few weeks after coming out to her parents at age 19, she learned he was gay. A few months later he was dead, possibly having committed suicide. Fun Home is Bechdel’s attempt to work out the threads of his life, her own life, and how the two intersected.

But Fun Home is more than a memoir. It’s a story about stories: specifically, the books that Alison and her father both loved—and for the last couple of years of his life, the only way they related to each other. Fun Home is peppered with allusions and quotes from F. Scott Fitzgerald, Albert Camus, Marcel Proust, James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, Colette and Greek mythology, among many others, but they never (well, hardly ever) feel forced. Without bogging things down in tedious literary analysis, they provide just enough insight to not only enrich the story but get me excited about reading the originals as well.

Alison (I feel a bit awkward referring to her by her first name, but what can you do?) found her taste for The Classics in grade 12, but before that, her relationship with her father was mostly distant, even hostile at times. Bruce Bechdel, it seems, was not an easy man to live with. A remote, authoritarian father and husband, prone to bouts of rage, he spent much of his spare time reading or restoring his family’s 19th century home. He was obsessed with beauty, but it was a narrow, oppressive kind of beauty, shallow and fragile, with no room for other people’s needs or tastes. The home he recreated was an artfully arranged, jumbo-sized closet, as much a museum as a place to live.

Everything in Bruce Bechdel’s world had to be just so, and that included his only daughter Alison. They were polar opposites in many ways, butch girl and sissy man; him trying to dress her up into a perfect model of femininity, her resisting his efforts as best she could. His intent is ambiguous: it’s not clear if she was just another canvas on which to work his art, or if he was actually trying to quash her budding queerness.

Bulldyke Trucker

“Is that what you want to look like?” There are so many things wrong with that question. Is looking butch a worse sin than queerness? Would it have been better for her to look pretty, marry and have affairs with high school students on the sly?

Closeted father aside, there’s a lot I can relate to in Alison’s story. Both my parents are teachers as well (retired now) and have never been very demonstrative either. Like Alison, I realised I was gay before I had sex. And again like her, I bought a truckload of books upon coming out—biographies, histories, politics, humour, psychology, anything really, I wasn’t too choosy back then.

What A Little Bookworm!

And actually, that part was familiar. The Indelible Alison Bechdel reprinted her coming-out story; originally published in 1993, it focused on the immediate circumstances surrounding her revelation, making contact with the local gay community, and ending with her first time with another woman. But in the meantime bookish, intellectual Alison had plowed through many, many books in an attempt to find, and understand, her new community. The masturbation scene above was played for giggles in 1993 but turned into something more serious in 2006, almost transcendent, a necessary step in her journey. Only the “good for a wank” brought it down to earth a bit.

Bewitched

Okay, I promised myself I wouldn’t be doing any high-falutin’ literary analysis (“Marlow’s steamer? penis. The Congo? vagina” Hee) but there are a few details that jumped out at me. Consider the picture on her professor’s office wall. It so happens (thank you Wikipedia!) that “The Descent of Minerva to Ithaca” is one of a series of engravings John Flaxman did to illustrate the Odyssey. Guess which book was studied in this English class? That’s right: Joyce’s Ulysses.

There’s more, though. This meeting took place the exact same day Alison realised she was a lesbian. And in the 1993 version of her coming-out story, she compares her revelation to the birth of Athena. “You know the story. She springs, fully grown and in complete armor, from Zeus’s head.”

Was that picture really there in her professor’s office? I don’t think it matters much. In a few instances, Alison points out a stray detail and insists it was in fact real. This still leaves many unaccounted for, but that’s fine. In a memoir, factual accuracy may sometimes take a back seat. I’ll trust that the story is true enough, and move on.

So there you have it. Honestly, going through Fun Home again and again has left me exhausted, but in a good way. I grieve for a man who died before he ever had the chance to truly live, but celebrate the life of a woman who escaped his labyrinth and created something truly beautiful. And maybe, one of these days, I’ll feel brave enough to tackle Proust.

Home Is Where The Art Is

For the Culture Crawl this year, I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of visiting just two buildings, I’d try to wander around, hit as many studios as I could and get a broader feel of the whole festival.

For the Culture Crawl this year, I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of visiting just two buildings, I’d try to wander around, hit as many studios as I could and get a broader feel of the whole festival.

The journey began Friday after work, at Main Street SkyTrain. I headed north up Station Street, briefly stopping to watch a drawing class—Crawlers were invited to join in, but I declined—and shoot a few photos of the neighbourhood. It’s not the prettiest, but I’d been meaning to try my hand at night photography, especially since a co-worker had invited me to his photography club (the latest meeting theme, as it happened? Night photography.) Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a tripod, so I had to improvise.

901 Main

My first major stop was 901 Main Street. What used to be sleeping quarters for BC Electric Railway motormen is now home to five floors of art (Favourite piece: Dick Stout’s Madonna of the Lake, and another painting probably by Dick Stout, which I forgot to identify because I was just mesmerised by it: a huge painting of a teenage girl on a pier reaching for seagull flying overhead, with an old lady (I think) fishing in the background, and a dog jumping over the pier. Then you take another look and realise everybody’s flying: the girl, the bird, the dog, even the fishing lady is hovering a few inches above the pier. It’s an indescribable feeling of joy, and freedom.)

Various newspaper clippings in the lobby told me of plans to convert the building into high-end apartments, and that many artists’ studios in and around Vancouver were threatened by gentrification and rising rents. One of the articles mentioned a petition to protect the building, which I was totally ready to sign. It turns out the article was a year old, so that was moot. However, I was told development plans are on hold for the moment. That’s good, at least.

Then I headed off into Strathcona. And I have to admit, it was a new experience for me. Hell, I’ve only ever driven through it a couple of times, along Prior; I usually take either First or Hastings to get to or from the boonies. And I’m sorry it took me so long, because it’s a lovely neighbourhood. The oldest residential neighbourhood in Vancouver, apparently, with a rich history and ethnic diversity and lots of heritage homes. Homes like Matthew Freed’s pottery studio on Jackson Avenue. I went through many other studios that night, ending with the Old Church. Most of them were either live-in studios or the artists’ private homes.

The Old Church

On Saturday I walked around Strathcona for a bit, visiting a couple more studios. By that time I was more interested in looking at the community and how the art (and artists) fit into it, than just the art by itself. I headed further north, into the Downtown Eastside to visit some studios on Railway St (favourite artist: Galen Felde). A few of them were also live/work areas, too. With a nice view of the trains and the harbour, if you like that sort of thing, though I can’t say much for the rest of the neighbourhood. Heading back into Strathcona, I was glad to leave behind all the signs warning drug users and dealers that their descriptions will be sent to the police. I toyed with the idea of heading even further east to check out the studios I’d seen last year… but it was late, I was tired and still getting over a cold, so I decided to cut it short. One last visit to 901 Main on the way back to the SkyTrain, and that was the end of my Crawl.

Barbed Wire

But it’s inspired me to nurture my own art, such as it is. Photography, and Web design, but also drawing, which I’ve been practicing on and off (mostly off) for the last few years. And it’s given me food for thought: how art and culture are not separate from life, or community, or skyrocketing rents. How Vancouver needs something like the Culture Crawl, even though I’ve been happily ignoring it 362 days out of the year so far. But if it were to go, if more artists are forced out of their studios, this city would be a much poorer place. And I need to find out if the West End has something like this.

Red Umbrella

I took this shot after grass volleyball last Wednesday:

I took this shot after grass volleyball last Wednesday:

Red Umbrella

I got the composition right, with no need to crop, but the umbrella that originally caught my eye was overwhelmed by the busy highrise all around it, already coloured goldish by the setting sun. So I did something I’d never done before: actual post-processing. Nothing too elaborate, I just oversaturated the umbrella and blue sky, then desaturated the rest of the building. (Update 28.07.2008: And then a bit of perspective correction)

Still, this was a big step for me. I’d always felt post-processing was a kind of cheat—maybe because I never really learned how to do it? But the fact is, cameras doesn’t see in the same way people do. And I realize it’s worth the time to learn more tricks of the trade, to create photos that look like what my eye sees.

(This post was inspired by Seriocomic, an amazing photoblog I discovered recently.)

I Found The Aleph

So just over a year ago, as I was coming up the escalator from the West Coast Express, I snapped a picture of the harbour, with Canada Place, the North Shore Mountains, and a lovely summer sky. This picture right here:

So just over a year ago, as I was coming up the escalator from the West Coast Express, I snapped a picture of the harbour, with Canada Place, the North Shore Mountains, and a lovely summer sky. This picture right here:

IMG_5178

And then I kept on doing it. Every morning, at the same time and more or less the same spot (sometimes going back down if I missed it the first time). Between late June and mid-November I took 80 photos, with a plan to splice them together into a movie (which… I should really get around to doing). This movie would show the day-to-day weather, but also the changing seasons, as the mornings grew darker and darker. Some days are missing of course: weekends, holidays, sick days, and all the times I took the late train. I wanted all my harbour photos to be taken at the same time every day.

Then in November I was laid off. When I started working again I decided to find a different vantage point. The view from the escalator was too hard to frame reliably. After a bit of experimentation I settled on the Station’s parking lot: it had a fine view of the mountains (of course), plus those huge-ass cranes that kept changing position from day to day. That was always fun, since I was recording not just Nature, but Technology. Best of all, I could rest my camera on the fence to keep it perfectly level.

IMG_1595

48 photos photos later, I moved downtown. No more West Coast Express. I could get into work a bit later, sleep in a bit more… but never at exactly the same time, and so there were no daily photos for a while. Then my scheduled stabilised, and I started looking for the perfect vantage point from which to record the passage of time.

Not easy: this vantage point would first have to be near my place, or on the way to work; there’d have to be an easy-to-remember place to stand, and clear markers to frame the picture. The pictures must have details that show the months and seasons passing when seen as a set, but each also had to be interesting enough by itself.

In short, I needed an Aleph. Okay, I wasn’t really looking for the mystical, transcendental experience of Borges’ short story, but I needed a point of view that contained everything important and beautiful about Vancouver, in space and time. This was the West End, there had to be at least one, right? Well, it took a while, but I think I found it.

Sunset Beach and Vanier Park

First few tries, just off Beach Ave looking across English Bay towards Vanier Park. Nice enough view, though partially blocked by a tree to the right. That was actually intentional: I thought I could use it to mark the passing seasons… but now I don’t know. It doesn’t really work.

Sunset Beach

Now I’m near the south end of Sunset Beach. Less convenient, harder to frame, and not enough interesting details. Pass.

Burrard Bridge from Sunset Beach

Burrard Bridge? Pretty enough but too static. Wait, though: instead of a picture of the bridge, I could take one from the bridge…

Sunset Beach From On High

Ding-ding-ding! Looks like we have a winner! This shot has everything: beautiful and complex scenery, lots of green that’ll change with the seasons, even a beach to record the tides. And, useful detail: I’ve got my back to the morning sun, so no worries about overexposure. And, not far out of my way. Yep, I think I can make this work. Being so close to home, I can take pictures every single day, not just workdays. We’ll see how dedicated I really am. I’ll probably want to be a little more flexible with the hours, then.

Things I Didn’t Know I Loved

Found via GrrlScientist, here’s a poem I’d never heard of, by one Nazim Hikmet, a Turkish author I’d never heard of either. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read.

Found via GrrlScientist, here’s a poem I’d never heard of, by one Nazim Hikmet, a Turkish author I’d never heard of either. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read.

it’s 1962 March 28th
I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
night is falling
I never knew I liked
night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain
I don’t like
comparing nightfall to a tired bird

I didn’t know I loved the earth
can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it
I’ve never worked the earth
it must be my only Platonic love

and here I’ve loved rivers all this time
whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills
European hills crowned with chateaus
or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see
I know you can’t wash in the same river even once
I know the river will bring new lights you’ll never see
I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow
I know this has troubled people before
and will trouble those after me
I know all this has been said a thousand times before
and will be said after me

I didn’t know I loved the sky
cloudy or clear
the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino
in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish
I hear voices
not from the blue vault but from the yard
the guards are beating someone again
I didn’t know I loved trees
bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino
they come upon me in winter noble and modest
beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish
“the poplars of Izmir
losing their leaves…
they call me The Knife…
lover like a young tree…
I blow stately mansions sky-high”
in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief
to a pine bough for luck

I never knew I loved roads
even the asphalt kind
Vera’s behind the wheel we’re driving from Moscow to the Crimea
Koktebele
formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish
the two of us inside a closed box
the world flows past on both sides distant and mute
I was never so close to anyone in my life
bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé
when I was eighteen
apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take
and at eighteen our lives are what we value least
I’ve written this somewhere before
wading through a dark muddy street I’m going to the shadow play
Ramazan night
a paper lantern leading the way
maybe nothing like this ever happened
maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy
going to the shadow play
Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand
his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat
with a sable collar over his robe
and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand
and I can’t contain myself for joy
flowers come to mind for some reason
poppies cactuses jonquils
in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika
fresh almonds on her breath
I was seventeen
my heart on a swing touched the sky
I didn’t know I loved flowers
friends sent me three red carnations in prison

I just remembered the stars
I love them too
whether I’m floored watching them from below
or whether I’m flying at their side

I have some questions for the cosmonauts
were the stars much bigger
did they look like huge jewels on black velvet
or apricots on orange
did you feel proud to get closer to the stars
I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t
be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract
well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to
say they were terribly figurative and concrete
my heart was in my mouth looking at them
they are our endless desire to grasp things
seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad
I never knew I loved the cosmos

snow flashes in front of my eyes
both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind
I didn’t know I liked snow

I never knew I loved the sun
even when setting cherry-red as now
in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors
but you aren’t about to paint it that way
I didn’t know I loved the sea
except the Sea of Azov
or how much

I didn’t know I loved clouds
whether I’m under or up above them
whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts

moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois
strikes me
I like it

I didn’t know I liked rain
whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my
heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop
and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved
rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting
by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
is it because I lit my sixth cigarette
one alone could kill me
is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow
her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue

the train plunges on through the pitch-black night
I never knew I liked the night pitch-black
sparks fly from the engine
I didn’t know I loved sparks
I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty
to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return

19 April 1962
Moscow

Translated by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk (1993)