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Recent Posts
- Rainy Night on the 504 January 11, 2020
- The night someone asked if I were a moose. July 28, 2019
- Lola Tia Maria April 12, 2019
- TIFF 2018 November 16, 2018
- A pizza party in Silvi May 30, 2018
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Author Archives: macconlon
The night someone asked if I were a moose.
The summer of 1980 was to have been the first of two summer internships required in my candidacy for ministry in the United Church of Canada. The woman who has given me hospitality to stay at her house woke me … Continue reading
Lola Tia Maria
Originally posted on MaC Conlon's Blog:
She came at summer’s end and needed a place to stay for a few days. She stayed for almost a year. And in my heart, forever. She was quiet, mostly kept to herself,…
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TIFF 2018
It was a few weeks left before leaving my teens in July 1974 when I was invited to the Brunswick House. I did not drink beer but thought cider was safe as it was a drink made from apples. These … Continue reading
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A pizza party in Silvi
Guest of our dear friend Tony in Silvi, met his friend Lorenzo who hosted a pizza party baked in an outdoor, wood-fired oven. Lorenzo has 200 and 400 year old olive trees that produced Lorenzo’s oil, other trees include laurel, … Continue reading
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His parents’ sculpture
The soapdish had no fresh bar of soap. Instead there were bits and pieces of a variety of soap bars that have been put together and formed into a ball. He told his parents to throw these bits out but … Continue reading
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Riding the Rails
During the Great Depression, many people forced off the farm hopped on freight trains, illegally, to chase after work they heard of from hundreds of miles away. If they are lucky, they would have prepared for provisions along the way, … Continue reading
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Tagged art, Coal Strike, community, Detroit, Detroit Institute of Arts, Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Mexico, murals, Philadelphia, pilgrimage, public art, riding the rails, Rivera Court, storytelling, travel, work
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Depending on the kindness of others
I do not know why I am compelled to create these. I love the way the clay feels and how they allow my fingers and hands to trace the contours and something immaterial inside and outside of the edges of … Continue reading
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Waiting for those blue lights
TTC next vehicle said you’d be here eight minutes ago. Now it says wait abother four. It’s not that I have to go to work or anything. It’s just that there are some ciment-lined silicone moulds waiting to be opened: … Continue reading
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