This is a piece I wrote for The Writer’s Studio (TWS) Reading Series, part of SFU‘s Continuing Studies Program. The reading, which is open to students, program alumni, and regular folk like moi – writers across all genres – took place on June 5, 2014 at the Cottage Bistro in Vancouver, BC.
Last night, the world — and I — tuned into the 86th annual Academy Awards. We watched “12 Years a Slave,” “Dallas Buyers Club” and “Gravity” walk away with most of the big awards. Notwithstanding the fact that I haven’t yet seen any of those films, and I thought Ellen was a bit of a disappointment, I was basically glued to my TV from about 3:30 (to get in some early Red Carpet action) until 9:00 when the broadcast ended.
If you read about my personal history with Oscar, you’ll understand that I grew up with an almost religious reverence for this event. Even after all these years, the ritual is important to me… even if the meaning isn’t quite clear. Was it ever clear? Continue reading
Somewhere in one of my parents’ homes, buried deep in a pile of old relics, there’s a photograph of my mother and father, circa 1972, my dad looking awfully dapper in a tuxedo and my mom donning an elegant low-cut black dress with a string of pearls, sitting at a dinner table at the Emmy Awards. Perhaps for obvious reasons, it’s an image that always comes to mind when Oscar night approaches. Continue reading