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A hearty feast of free readings, lectures, presentations, workshops and showcases celebrating our culture, community and the wild blue yonder.
 Where inquiring minds gather.
Okanagan Institute
at Hanna's Lounge
Click here for schedule
and information. |
Arts Council of the Central Okanagan is a resource centre and advocate for the arts in Kelowna and Central Okanagan. Find us at:
8-1304 Ellis Street
Kelowna BC V1Y 1Z8
Phone: 250.861.4123
Fax: 250.861.4155
Email: Click here
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Join the Arts Council of the Central Okanagan today and you will:
» Meet people who are involved in our arts community, and stay informed.
» Receive our weekly email newsletter, The Junction.
» Become eligible for group member grants.
» Have a worthy advocate to protect your artistic and cultural rights.
» Be able to join ARTSCO's special projects.
Click here to apply.
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Programs:
Literary Arts
Love Note Vicki Bissillion
Karen's young husband had been dead five days. His death had been sudden and unfair.
Karen had moved through the past few days in a surreal blur of numbness, doing what she was told, nodding and hugging and crying with the people who came by.
The charming heritage house had hummed with friends, neighbours and relatives, either coming-and-going or staying. They had meant well. They'd helped.
But now, at 7:30 AM two days after the funeral, it was awkwardly quiet as she puttered and waited for the coffee pot and something else Š. what?
She and Joe had refurbished the 1936 house over the last ten months. It had been a shared hobby, a labour of love. Everyone agreed the little house was warm and charming. But today it smelled forlorn, empty. With no one there this morning, Karen had no diversion, no one to keep her mind occupied with banalities, with 'holding up'. She was having a glimpse of the first morning of the rest of her life - a solitary life - that scared and overwhelmed her.
She felt the familiar stinging behind her eyes, the hollow ache in her stomach. She was alone, barely fifty, surrounded by nearby friends and family, "only a phone call away," they'd all said.
But this momentŠshe was alone.
Determined not to give in to self-pity, not to shed any more useless tears, Karen took a deep breath. She inhaled a new feeling - anger - at everything: life, death, the sly aneurysm, the unfairness, and finally at Joe of all the dumb things, for leaving her, for dying. She immediately felt guilty for thinking like that and then the whole cycle threatened to begin again.
"No, not today," she resolved, straightening up and exhaling.
Karen pulled her chenille robe tighter. She turned towards the table, and beneath it she noticed a small piece of rectangular, yellowed paper. She bent and picked it up, turning towards the garbage. She reached for the lid and then hesitated. Turning the soft scrap over, she stood up abruptly. Her whole being felt as if she had touched an electric fence. Both her heart and breathing stopped for a second as she recognized the drawing.
It was a goofy-looking, pencilled caricature. Half-duck, half-roadrunner with crossed eyes, long gangly legs, oversized feet and such a dumb, endearing look on his face, you had to laugh.
One word was scrawled underneath, "SMILE".
Karen did.
The sketch had been hand-drawn in pencil nearly 30 years ago.
By Joe.
It was a gift to her from Joe. Then and now.
She'd lost track of the drawing many years ago. Where had it come from?
She felt the answer in every nerve of her body. She knew he was still here with her Š for now.
Karen felt she'd make it after all.
We invite submissions from writers.
» The story or poem should not be over 2000 words and must be your own original work. All submissions must be word processed and emailed to us at our email address.
» Submissions must include your complete contact information: Name, Telephone, Email, Mailing Address.
» Please also include a short biography and if possible a small photo of yourself.
» The anonymity of all that submit a story or poem will be respected. Contact details supplied as part of your submission will not be disclosed to any third party.
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