Author: Jon Mychal

  • A Fond Farewell…

    (last entry from the old journal) I’m on a Wilson bus — headed west from Avenue rd. to Wilson station, where I’ll board a ‘120 Calvington’ and go pick up a Fender Jazz Bass I learned about through a Kijiji ad. I walked north on Avenue rd. after finally reclaiming one of my Hard Drives I…

  • The Process…

      “Sometimes I see ladies walking and crying; Those are my blue skies; Those are my high heels.” (poetic thought — referring to a woman I saw a few days ago on Bayview ave. — crying while walking and on her mobile phone) The latter part refers to the sky I’m presently viewing while perched…

  • A Day in the Life…

    (Journaling while in transit) Breezy day — coolish; some sun — I’m sitting on a bench in the makeshift GO station at York Mills and Yonge, once again waiting for the ‘Oshawa 94’ to roll in and whisk me away, back to Ajax, and what might possibly be the last recording session with Daniel L.…

  • On Memory…

    (Journaling on public transit) Earlier today, I had a quick ‘fizzle’ of a memory that I would never have imagined experiencing again. The irony is, I’ve since forgotten the specifics, but am left with the emotional impression. I was trying to liken this phenomenon to something visceral, and came up with this: The memory resides…

  • Halcyon Reflections

    (partial Journal excerpt) 8pm-ish. I just found a seat in a place that — while it makes all the sense in the world — I have yet to journal from this location even once in the 6 years or so that I’ve owned this book! “Rocket Ship Park“. Indeed, from earliest childhood memories, through some rather…