Walking along Queen Street, through a door thrown open to the world, this appeared on a wall.
Looking in, I asked & was granted permission to photograph it for my blog.
The yellowness on 1 side is due to an incandescent light bulb.
Magically, the woman transcends into a wolf.
Love
Are indigenous women allowed to wear the headdress?
Times Are Changing
Tammy Cook-Searson, chief of the Lac La Ronge Indian Band, received her headdress as a gift from the community.
Derek Nepinak, Grand Chief of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs says: “At some point, indigenous people need to sit down and have a discussion about the headdress, and have that discussion openly, under the light of day, amongst all of our people,”
Click on Tammy Cook-Searson’s image to read the full CBC article.
A wall behind had another wonderful image.
Pics taken by Resa – August 25, 2025
Toronto, Canada
The artist: Upon inquiry, I was told “One of the guys that works here.”
Liz– Thank you for hosting me on my blog tour for The Weight of Snow and Regret, Resa!
Resa – My pleasure, Liz!
Liz – Today I am very excited to shine the spotlight on one of the minor characters in the book, bandleader Sterling D. Weed. But first, here is what The Weight of Snow and Regret is all about.
For over 100 years, no one wanted to be sent to the Sheldon Poor Farm.
By 1968, no one wanted to leave.
Amid the social turmoil of 1968, the last poor farm in Vermont is slated for closure. By the end of the year, the twelve destitute residents remaining will be dispatched to whatever institutions will take them, their personal stories lost forever.
Hazel Morgan and her husband Paul have been matron and manager at the Sheldon Poor Farm for the past 20 years. Unlike her husband, Hazel refuses to believe the impending closure will happen. She believes that if she just cares deeply enough and works hard enough, the Sheldon Poor Farm will continue to be a safe haven for those in need, herself and Paul included.
On a frigid January afternoon, the overseer of the poor and the town constable from a nearby town deliver a stranger to the poor farm for an emergency stay. She refuses to tell them her name, where she came from, or what her story is. It soon becomes apparent to Hazel that whatever the woman’s story is, she is deeply ashamed of it.
Hazel fights to keep the stranger with them until she is strong enough to face, then resume, her life—while Hazel must face the tragedies of her own past that still haunt her.
Told with compassion and humor, The Weight of Snow & Regret tells the poignant story of what it means to care for others in a rapidly changing world.
For today’s tour stop, I will introduce you to a character who makes a cameo appearance in the novel, Sterling D. Weed, a historical figure known for being the oldest working bandleader in the state of Vermont. He worked as bandleader until his death in 2005 at age 104. He was also known for having the first integrated swing band in New England.
Truth be told, I couldn’t resist putting him in the novel. When my late brother George was in high school, he played saxophone in the Enosburg Falls Town Band with Sterling D. Weed as bandleader. In college, George played gigs with Weed’s Imperial Orchestra to earn money to live off-campus. How he loved to tell his Sterlin’ D. Weed stories!
Weed’s Imperial Orchestra appears in the novel in a brief scene when Hazel and Paul celebrate their first wedding anniversary. The first song they hear is the Weed’s Imperial Orchestra’s theme song, “The Wang Wang Blues.”
Click on the above pic, and a new page will open. You can listen to the music while you read!
Excerpt from “Newlywed” chapter
Hazel turned her attention to the raised stage. Seated behind their music stands, the members of Weed’s Imperial Orchestra wore fancy black suits and bow ties. She’d never seen anyone wear such a fancy suit before, much less a bow tie. Their shoes would be polished to a high shine, even though no one could see them. The man standing on the stage with his back to the dance floor must be Sterling D. Weed himself. When he turned to face the crowded dance floor, Hazel was surprised to see a man of about Paul’s age, smooth-faced, bespectacled, and balding. Except for the fancy suit and the saxophone on a strap around his neck, he looked like her high school algebra teacher.
“Welcome, one and all! The boys and I will start you off this evening with our theme song, a little foxtrot called ‘The Wang Wang Blues.’ If you don’t know the foxtrot, don’t worry. Come out on the dance floor anyway; you’ll pick it up soon enough. And if you don’t, there’s always next week.” He bent over and picked up a clarinet. “Ready, boys? A-one, a-two, a-three.”
The tempo was lively, the notes tumbling from the clarinet sparkling. The melody would not be denied, despite repeated kicks from the bass drum to keep it in check—nor could it keep the crowd in check, as they stepped and glided and twirled.
Sterling D. Weed announced the next song as “Sing, Sing, Sing,” but instead of a sing-along, the drums pounded out a primitive beat, seemingly of their own volition. The crowd cheered, and an explosion of brass blasted from the stage as the dancers flung themselves about the floor.
Paul’s eyes widened. He mouthed something, grabbed Hazel’s hand, and pointed behind him.
Outside, he kept hold of her hand and led her to the edge of the lake. “Jeezum. We coulda got killed in there.” He pointed to a large rock. “How about we listen from here?”
Now that she was no longer in danger of being kicked in the head or trampled to death, Hazel was perfectly content to listen to the rest of the song that seemed hell-bent on driving itself off a cliff.
About Elizabeth Gauffreau
“I am drawn to the inner lives of other people–what they care about, what they most desire, what causes them pain, what brings them joy.”
Click on About to read up on Liz, or on her name in smaller print to visit her blog!
The colours pierced my side vision from a half block away.
I should have known, even before I got to the door that it was painted by…
…tattoo artist extraordinaire, The Half Decent.
Just another piece of alley art I had to TEAR myself away from.
In real life, it appears black, white, red and silver. The pics weren’t capturing this, so I tried a slower shutter speed, which made the rest too, dark. Below is the comparison.
Normal shutter speed on the left. Slowest I can get on iPhone on the right.
Pano setting created a bluish overtone.
Pics taken by Resa – September 21, 2025
Toronto, Canada
The Artist:
The above fab song, Tattoo, was exhilaratingly performed by Loreen at 2023’s GNTM (Germany’s Next Top Model). Of the 5 finalists presented here, who do you think won?
I fell in dog love with Copper when I read, Copper Boy (Ever So Gently, also in King Copper)
"His white choppers shine as if they've never caused any commotion.. never mind when he attempted to eat the barbecue!"
Somehow, to me, animal love is proven with those words. I was always asking about him, and one day drew him. It is my first and only animal portrait.
When Copper crossed the “rainbow bridge”, Lauren was heart broken. Concerned with how the healing was going, I asked a few questions.
Resa – In the book you say it was 4 months after Lucky Girl was gone, when you adopted Copper into your family. It’s been a bit longer than that since Copper passed. Are you thinking of adopting another puppy/dog?
Lauren – We will most likely adopt another dog in the future, probably an older dog that needs a loving home. But we’re not ready yet. As I mentioned in my book, every one of our family dogs has been special. Yet, it was in Copper’s amber, soulful eyes where I felt a deep connection. I’m doing better with occasional teary moments, but still grieving his passing. I wish I could hug him again, you know…
Resa – Yes, I know. I feel the same about my cats who are gone, especially my baby Jeep. (& Johnny & Pupkin & Cabbage & Mom & Potato)
Lauren – My mom passed shortly after Lucky Girl, and my kids were home and then leaving for college. Life was busy; dynamics were different, so after a few months, I was ready for another furry family member. And we’re so glad Copper trotted into our lives. Copper was also the first dog where we had to make that heart wrenching decision, and even though it was the right thing to do, it was the hardest decision I’ve had to make.
Lauren – I wanted my son and daughter’s support from out of state via phone, and of course, my husband, Matt, was with me, but ultimately, it was up to me. The emergency vet was very compassionate. She told us that she would support any decision we made, and she had told many pet owners “no” before. But she knew Copper would suffer tremendously if we prolonged his life, and the thought of him suffering shattered my heart as well.
Lauren – Though it still wasn’t easy, so before I decided, I looked at her, crying my heart out, saying, “I don’t want to be an adult right now. I want you to tell me what to do.” I knew it wasn’t her decision to make, so I nodded my head. Matt was silently emotional sitting in a chair, and I sat on the floor with Copper’s head on my leg while he peacefully left our world. I buried my face in his fur and sobbed like I’ve never sobbed before. After that fateful day, my husband and I needed some time to let our emotions settle. As our daughter says, “We need to give ourselves grace.” Recently, I heard in a movie, “Love is worth the grief.” It truly is… So, I don’t know the timeline, but we’ll know when the right time comes. ♥️
Resa – When Copper passed, you fell on your pen, and wrote King Copper. Can you put into words how writing was a catharsis? Did you go through stages, a journey, as you wrote?
Lauren – I had written several fun poems when Copper was with us, so when he passed, it felt natural to write through the grief. Instead of moping around the house and crying all the time, my grief found a destination in poetry form. Writing kept me busy, kept me focused to the end of a poem, and then another was inspired. Sure, I had down time to fall in a chair and simply cry for a few minutes before I ‘got up again.’ But those times didn’t consume me because of the writing.
One More Moment
A dog barks in the distance causing me to pause, it sounds like Copper’s a wild imagination longing for one more moment
Lauren – I can’t say if there were stages, but it was an emotional journey that felt like I had been sucker punched. I’m grateful to be a writer so that my grief had a place to go. I can’t imagine what those days, weeks, and months would have looked like without being able to put my emotions down on paper. Before I knew it, a poetry collection had evolved, and that’s when I decided to pay tribute to Copper in book form. I’m so glad I did, not only for me, but for my family too.
Resa – Where do you find yourself today, your missing of Copper, now that the book is out there and people have been reacting?
Lauren – My book has received beautiful and touching reviews, so it’s heartwarming to know how Copper has touched the hearts of those who have loved and lost a pet. Many friends have fallen in love with Copper, and that warms my heart. He didn’t know how lovable he was. He didn’t know how handsome or regal he was, but all 80 lbs. of him was pure unconditional love.
In some poems, Copper writes to Lauren
ALWAYS BY YOUR SIDE
I see you dry your tears; how sad you seem to be. Please know that I am here, but I'm also feeling free.
- Copper Boy
Lauren – I’m emotional as I type. Sigh…I’m just grateful for the reception my collection has received. And I hope my poems provide comfort for those who are also grieving the loss of their dog or cat. Life is part joy and part loss then comes acceptance. This is what King Copper is all about. We know he’s frolicking in lush, green meadows with our dogs who had previously passed and he’s not in pain anymore. Knowing this allows acceptance in our minds because he lives in our hearts forever. 🤎🧡🤎
I only have1 drawing of Copper, so I did my best with it for this post
I spotted this being painted while passing in a street car. I waited 3 days and returned.
The painting was not quite finished, and there was a cherry picker blocking the bottom. It was a sunny day, but I was in a mighty blue mood. Some rain had fallen in my life.
I waited 3 more days, and returned to the yellow and blue painting, like sun and rain, to me. I could heard this song. I had been hearing it for 3 days.
I mailed Holly and told her I found a painted poem. I sent a couple of pics and asked did she have any sun and rain poems? Any yellow and blue poems? She sent 3 poems, and a song.
September Rain The rains come late; vanilla yogurt clouds deepen to ripe blueberry. Twirling harlequins of wind sweep upward through the lush crowns of Lindens where birds weave wicker, dried stems, and waxy feathers, dripping pearly dew onto overgrown gardens. Higher, squirrels shelter in rattan dreys, inky shadows among mottled rays that dance on puddles and glistening blades, the potpourri of life.
~~~ Holly Rene Hunter
One was not a rain on a sunny day poem. Rather, she sent flowers on a sun’s shore.
FLOWER GIRL
Where are you my love? Chasing shadows along sun swept shores?
Turbulence has exfoliated the rosy blush from my cheeks. When we speak our words drift away on the wind.
If you should change your mind I’ll be waiting by the garden gate flowers in my hair.
– Holly Rene Hunter
It Feels Like Rain
The earthy scent of petrichor clings to our skin, overflows my eyes, slips down our cheeks to mingle with salty lips. We know how it feels to swim in sun drenched rivers, to touch the moon and feel the sear of the sun. Your song fills the sky with falling stars. But mine bring the rain… I bring the rain. It feels like rain… You know it feels like rain.
For the second year in a row, Ruth has had me a as guest on FLIXCHATTER to chat about costumes & costume design. Last year we focused on the stunning gowns on “The Gilded Age”. This year’s focus is on the brilliant costume design in”The Penguin”.
Graffiti Lux Art & More 
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