Curled in on the cement steps of Oodena, the ironic backdrop of the Asper institute shining in the distance, I am left feeling settled, disturbed and at home within the atmosphere of opening night.
And that is just it. This city, full of painful irony and beautiful repulsiveness somehow gives way to [for lack of a better word] magic. Almost addictive in its elusiveness.
I keep trying to grab at it/whatever it is/ this obsession I have with this ridiculously imperfect city. And just like the authors tonight, I am often left struggling with just what words and stories to use to convey these intimate, deeply rooted feelings.
What I loved so much about these five, very diverse writers, was their honest commitment to trying to find something, at least one thing, to name and hold onto as a way to frame what it means to be here/to exist in this “one great city”.
And whether it was the work of Jordan Wheeler, Chandra Mayor and nereO Eugenio; passionate dialogue infused with a politically critical lens, or the work of Carol Matas and Marc Prescott which carried a lighter but equally as intimate tone, opening night was made up of writers being asked to pull out pieces of themselves that felt something, anything, towards this little prairie town.
And nothing makes me happier then people sitting around, talking about Winnipeg.
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Courtney Slobogian likes to sit quietly memorizing all of the reasons she is in love with this city. She graduated from University of Winnipeg in 2007 with her BA in Women’s and Gender studies. Her honours thesis was entitled “mother[loss]: An exploration of our silences in grief and longing.” She is putting that degree to use mostly by insisting that there is a need for theory in everything. Along with writing academic papers for fun, she finds herself constantly playing with poetry (where it is desire, and not theory, that she finds most useful).
By day she busies herself with women’s reproductive health issues, by night she rides her bike.
