Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication
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The Photograph
coordinated by Kamelia Pezeshki

Illumined geometry by James Rowan

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Some Trees
by Malgorzata Wolak Dault

Number 94

I am a part of all that I have met.
                             Tennyson, Ulysses.

by Kai Chan

"Family Tie #14", 1995. button, string, nail

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Twenty Twenty
an exhibition of recent work by Kai Chan


The exhibition, on wall at 50 Gladstone, runs thru this weekend (October 2, 2021). If you want to visit the exhibition, you are welcome to make an appointment (email to: mail@oceanpounds.com).

You can also browse an online exhibition of all the exhibits, visit: https://oceanpounds.com

Artwork and exhibition catalogue are available online, or on-site.


Twenty Twenty exhibition catalogue
Format: 8.5x11 inch, 48 pages plus covers, softcover, perfect binding
CAD $25 (plus tax and shipping)


Poem a Week
by Gary Michael Dault


The Second-Last Page
a soapbubble bathtub
under an ivy sky
look how long
the centipede is now
our (sigh sigh)
bathroom centipede
long as a brawny cloud
a ripe banana
with green grapes
lined up on the counter
for feeding
the centipede
hums of insects
gathering with accordions
a sky full of seeds
the fountain
basting fruit juice
is this not
the paradise
we posited?


DOUBLE DOUBLE issue 0924-2021

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CONTENTS: Holly Lee -  NIGHT OWL SONATA "Let me describe to you a curb side garden……" /  A new publication of recent work by Lee Ka-sing - "Eighty Two Photographs”

by Madeleine Slavick 思樂維

It can be hard
to keep a promise.

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From the Notebooks (2010-2021)
by Gary Michael Dault

From the Notebooks, 2010-2021.
Number 104: Viewing the Moon from Under the Bridge
(Sunday, September 6, 2020)

The text reads: "Viewing the moon from Under the bridge.
From down here it seems more buoyant than ever,
rich and flotational, like a raft."

Caffeine Reveries
by Shelley Savor

End of Summer Swim

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The Salt, the Oil, the Milk
An exhibition by Bill Burns
at MKG127
September 11 – October 9, 2021



Travelling Palm Snapshots
by Tamara Chatterjee

Canada (September, 2021) – We wandered around the decadent neighbourhood observing the new social distancing pop up patios and new murals adorning the cityscape facades. From a couple blocks away I made eye contact; my companion and I sauntered past the afternoon patio patrons and traffic to admire a facade that several weeks ago was not so vibrant. I amused myself from behind a wall of large plants to capture the eye that had called out to me.

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by Fiona Smyth

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by Cem Turgay

Leaving Taichung Station
by Bob Black


Voices overhead

Temple 1: 福德堂
Fu De Temple

Red Lanterns swaying the night in guard for landlords who proffer their unease and damp lungs in search of might, for this is Taichung and her hungry alley'd ways pictured and scampering and aflight....
at peace in this city, even if the lanterns and the barking pull of the food market is but for a single night

a beautiful child, with a broken face: like a green spring breeze
The power comes not from the gaze or your stare but from the contradiction between the fever of eyes and the Grace and innocence of the elbow and the soft bow bend of the back, the moles and the wayward strand of the hair. Eyes may attempt to seduce but it is our contractions and contradictions that tell the greater more human vulnerability

The final line in your face, fingered by the red of the temple lanterns, as if in a breath
the profound bowing of your fingers and the night knee bends below you
I will steal for a poem from the cupboard of the night
And recite our body in questions and algebra
who are we,
our lives finger-laced, shaped in the orchid of the light,
bending toward one another, as a flower is bowed by the sun.

We are overgrown and under fed and we approach one another as fingers do,
As if a whisper
or rung bell bellowing.

Temple 2: 萬和宮
Wanhe Temple

To unstick the stuck knot of the days
As if that sneaker lacing
you once bent over to untangle
from the park bramble
and which lead to each of us tripping over one another
tongues and tap and tendon,
as the gravel'd path raced toward us
and our hearts raced away from us,
and the ground lapped up more than each of us could have expected,
the cinder bruse and buckled knee
and ribbed-caught carriage
and our together-in-a-moment unpackaged lives.
The unstuck knot of that day.
And all that from a $4 piece of nylon:
as it and we came undone.

Were it so.
Were it so.

And if our lives canter in their unraveling
then this reminder:
If as cheap in their cost,
the jute and the hemp and the tendon,
then be it as broad in its tumbling?

Temple 3: 金陵山天壇
Baiyang Temple of Heaven

The balsa cackles against the bare porcelain, boned,
as he elongates his unexercised hand and utensil,
hopped up on hoped fingering that becomes a small pivot:
to feed himself, alone.
The heart slips as easily away as the magura
from his grasp.
A lesson in dexterity and on being alone.

The sea is in love with you
A ghost incarnate of every broken heart.


the light upon the land, the love lung’d up from the sea, and this lunar rocking.
Wing and braced, ghosts dancing in our throats and bones:
And so, uprooted
there you go.

your essence and your body pressed against the dreams and window  of the temple,
our losses of smokey quivering of a dreamt la,
your movement, the desire tthat is hungered lost barking night
and above us:

moons, like hearts stitched in the puppetry of our life, hung there upon a wire in front of the red-shadowed street,
our meaning and memory pushed recklessly by night winds and market candles,
a glow

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The Raw and the Cooked, MYTHOLOGIQUES
(A column on the culture of eating and cooking)

by  Gary Michael Dault

Alice B. Toklas (1877-1967) had spent most of her life as companion, lover and wife to writer Gertrude Stein.  Although Gertrude had left her valuable art collection (Picasso, Matisse, Derain, Gris, etc.) to Alice when she died in 1946, Alice—unwilling to break up the famous, million-dollar collection—needed to make some money on her own—and as quickly as possible.  

In 1955, when she was seventy-five, she decided to produce a cookbook to help defray her expenses, finishing it in four months with “no telephone calls and no door bells answered.”  The book gave her a ton of trouble.  It even impinged upon her health, necessitating her going on a special diet which, as she complained to friends, resulted in her continually “bending over an imaginary stove.”  Her now monastic task became a matter of writing about food as lavishly and seductively as she could—but never to eat it.

The resulting rich and forbidding Alice B. Toklas Cookbook is so ornate in its exotic ingredients and procedures in the kitchen that for most of us, the book is less likely to take its place as a working guide to usable cuisine as it is to function as an armchair tour of fabulous meals, arcane restaurants and unimaginatively sublime, unattainable dishes never to be visited in person.  Given the often food-abstemious days many of us actually live now, Alice’s escapist cookbook becomes an almost pornographic adventure for the would-be licentious palette.  And frankly, you can gain weight just by reading it.

Alice’s favourite ingredients seemed to be butter and heavy cream.  Let’s begin with an easy dessert.  This is the way, for example, to make “Nora’s Ice-Cream”: “1 quart of whipped cream sweetened with 3/4 cup icing sugar.  Add 1 ¼ cups raspberry jelly slightly melted.  Fold in the beaten whites of 5 eggs.  Freeze.”

Here’s a homey dinner you whip up anytime you have a leg of mutton on hand and nothing pressing to do for a stretch:  The recipe is simply identified as “The Seven-Hour Leg of Mutton.”  This is what you do: “In an earthenware pot place the rind of bacon fat cut in small pieces.  Interlard a leg of mutton with ham, garlic and lard.  Put your leg of mutton into the pot with salt, pepper, 2 large onions, 3 glasses of water, I glass white wine.  Cover the pot with a plate and paste paper around the pot and the plate. In the plate pour some wine and allow it to simmer for 7 hours.”  Okay.

Here is Alice’s “Salad Cancalaise”.  It begins with beguiling simplicity and then quickly gets tougher: “For each serving take 1 leaf of lettuce; on this place 3 tablespoons diced potato mixed with 1 teaspoon mayonnaise.  On this place 3 poached oysters drained and placed on linen cloth to dry, them mixed with oil, lemon juice and pepper.  On the oysters place a thin slice of truffle.  Place the lettuce leaves and their garnishings on a round dish in a circle with one in the centre.”  Nice, except that we’re all out of oysters and truffles right at the moment.

But I love Alice and her heavenly cookbook.  Even if I’m not going to attempt “Ray with Black Butter” or “Salt Codfish a la Monegasque” or “chicken in Half Mourning” or “Mimosa Soup” anytime soon.
My edition of the book was published in London by the Folio Society in 1993.  It features nice, fluttery drawings by Natacha Ledwidge, some of which are reproduced here.





(Breakfast area and small shop)

Located on the second floor of an art space, INDEXG Bed and Breakfast has 4 guest rooms, all with ensuite bathroom. Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists, art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different cities visiting and working in Toronto.

50 Gladstone Ave, Toronto

ISSN 1918-6991
Published on Mondays, with columns by Artists and Writers
Published since 2002, an Ocean and Pounds publication


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