the dust is free

When we last left each other on rue de l'Esplanade, I'd just passed the old pious woman who told me the dust was free. This was south of Mont-Royal. Today I moved north along this road, heading toward the 5400 block to meet with J, Kino's co-founder. The light had a jaundiced appearance as it fell over the houses reminiscent of Baron Haussman's Parisian facelift. Within minutes, on rue de l'Esplanade, the rain comes. And the thunder too. [Go see Al Gore's movie now.]

J is not there when I arrive; his wife sends me to the Cafe Milles Saveurs where he eats a ham and cheese crepe with his daughter. He invites me to stay for a coffee. This is the first time we've ever talked. As the artistic inspiration of the movement, he's perhaps less at ease with such conversation, despite having initiated it. But we talk about writing and screenplays and children and Madison, Wisconsin. I pull out my Dellilo book and tell him it's what he's looking for. And he tells me that if he directs and produces six commercials a year (taking 2-3 weeks a piece), he can survive. He can live comfortably and work on his own projects. I like this notion--the 18 week work year, the delving into personal creativity, the self-investment. And I like it all the more because I hear about it on this street, and in this town, and in an unprecedented December rain.

And this, the big development of my day.