{"id":31759,"date":"2018-04-30T10:00:56","date_gmt":"2018-04-30T17:00:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/?p=31759"},"modified":"2018-04-29T20:32:08","modified_gmt":"2018-04-30T03:32:08","slug":"a-long-story-this","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/2018\/04\/30\/a-long-story-this\/","title":{"rendered":"Writing Vancouver &#8211; A Long Story this \u2026"},"content":{"rendered":"<h2><a href=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/WritingVancouver_logo.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-11429\" src=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/WritingVancouver_logo.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"600\" height=\"72\"><\/a><\/h2>\n<h2><em>A Long Story this &#8230;<\/em><\/h2>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\"><em>It was at Quebec and Terminal in 1973, as a young immigrant hitch-hiker,&nbsp; I arrived at the Pacific; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; and from there through the October drizzle I could have seen the perch of my soon-to-be home &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; on False Creek\u2019s South Shore. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<\/em><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\"><em>Over forty years I have spent many days re-arranging these shores for the people &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; that are come to neighbour me, constantly re-arranging the leasegrip of this land. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; In the shape shift of its debris, I have moved fast and learned slowly, the bounty of its margin. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;<\/em><\/p>\n<p>As architect, city-builder, and son of the colonisers, I have a lot of freight to carry, but &#8220;in order for things to stay the same they have to change&#8221;.&nbsp; This trio of poems, written over a period of 20 years, speaks to shifts in my immigrant perspective, tone shifting to a bleaker assessment of my vocation&#8217;s grasp on making the world a better place.<\/p>\n<p>A counterpart of my view of power from the &#8216;inside&#8217;, is the work of my colleague from SFU&#8217;s The Writers Studio, Natasha Sanders-Kay, in her poem &#8220;Smashed-Egg Syndrome.&#8221;&nbsp; Her visceral experience from the &#8216;outside&#8217; of power, speaks to the duty of conscience of purpose in carrying out our collective Citymaking.<\/p>\n<p>I still work on this; more convinced than ever about some things, and eyes wide open about others. It is about not being alone, but being part of the rise of voices that are taking direct action to sustain community, like False Creek South&#8217;s Re*Plan.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/1979-A-Alder-Bay-Construction-GMc.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-31894\" src=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/1979-A-Alder-Bay-Construction-GMc.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"356\" height=\"977\" srcset=\"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/1979-A-Alder-Bay-Construction-GMc.jpg 356w, https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/1979-A-Alder-Bay-Construction-GMc-109x300.jpg 109w, https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/1979-A-Alder-Bay-Construction-GMc-343x940.jpg 343w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 356px) 100vw, 356px\" \/><\/a>1998 \u2013 Waiting Dream<\/h2>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">Waiting&nbsp; for the&nbsp; ferry&nbsp; at the edge of my dreams.<br \/>\nWood dock bobbing, like the tumble down shack<br \/>\ntwenty&nbsp; years&nbsp; back,&nbsp; under the tug of log booms.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">\u201cBefore I planned all this,\u201d I could say;<br \/>\nwith&nbsp; brand&nbsp; new &nbsp; park and &nbsp; separate<br \/>\nlanes &nbsp;&nbsp; for &nbsp; cyclists&nbsp; and&nbsp; pedestrians,<br \/>\nthat&nbsp; thread&nbsp; a&nbsp; billion dollar weave of<br \/>\nhousing,&nbsp; shops, coffee bars and sales<br \/>\npavilion; &nbsp; seeds for metropolitan life.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">But, &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; closer to the truth&nbsp; &#8211;&nbsp; what I really planned,<br \/>\nwhat&nbsp; I&nbsp; always dreamed of,&nbsp; was this moment.<br \/>\nWaiting in thin sunshine a foot above lapping water<br \/>\nin the contented hum of a city Sunday afternoon<br \/>\n&#8211; as though this novelty would always be normal.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">And &nbsp; &nbsp; the almost&nbsp; young &nbsp; woman<br \/>\nsitting nearby on the dock, knows<br \/>\nnone of this. &nbsp; (Trespass of twenty<br \/>\nyears &nbsp;&nbsp; back, &nbsp; swept &amp; returned.)<br \/>\nNor need I know her trespass, nor<br \/>\nguess &nbsp; her&nbsp; Middle-East &nbsp; turmoil.<br \/>\nNow, her&nbsp; mind&nbsp; is&nbsp; a&nbsp; world away;<br \/>\nlines tugging at&nbsp; determined eyes.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">She, &nbsp; too, &nbsp;&nbsp; is &nbsp; awaiting the ferry at the edge of her dreams<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: left;\">2007 &#8211; Tidal Flat<\/h2>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">You see when you get there<br \/>\nThere is no there there<br \/>\nOnly &nbsp; &nbsp; Here<br \/>\nAnd Now.<\/p>\n<p>As these paths emerge from the shores of the Olympic Village, are they mine?<br \/>\nDo I look at the deck and bridges and benches and boulders and artificial island<br \/>\nand claim ownership of territory I trod as I dragged the plan through the labyrinth<br \/>\nof competing expectations \u2013 through the Olympic rings security cordons and insecurity<br \/>\ncordons to the open water of the Millennium bid, and this feeding frenzy of construction?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">I settle for completing my journey around this Creek<br \/>\nI first saw as hitchhiker thirty years back; when all that greeted me<br \/>\nwere barnacles on the rotting pilings of abandoned docks at Terminal and Main.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">The crows call out, as they fly past.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">The truth is<br \/>\nwe are all hitchhikers<br \/>\nthis is all leased land<br \/>\neven for those whose origins and myths<br \/>\npredate my presumption<br \/>\nof being from that golden generation of creators<br \/>\nwhose palimpsests made this place part<br \/>\nof the multi-tongued story that it is.<\/p>\n<p>You see when you get there<br \/>\nThere is no there &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; There<br \/>\nWith substance in Authority of Ownership beyond the here of now.<\/p>\n<p>At this surround of the Creek\u2019s shore, my thoughts on &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; Belonging &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; in this here and now,<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; dwell in the answering calls<br \/>\nyou and I can place<br \/>\nin the mouths of our infants.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: right;\"><a href=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-31896 size-medium\" src=\"http:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc-300x172.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"172\" srcset=\"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc-300x172.jpg 300w, https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc-768x440.jpg 768w, https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc-600x344.jpg 600w, https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/6\/2018\/04\/2015-FCS-B-Railtrack-GMc.jpg 884w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a>2016 &#8211; Home Work<\/h2>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">Where is Vancouver?<br \/>\nIt used to be where I was going<br \/>\nAnd then it started<br \/>\nTo go somewhere else<br \/>\nNot like a child growing too big<br \/>\nTo be walked across the street<br \/>\nBut like an intimate companion<br \/>\nWhose whispers turn to silence<br \/>\nNot rejection because<br \/>\nWe still share the same bed and<br \/>\nCan touch if our legs stretch \u2026 &#8230; But touching is become<br \/>\nLike bumping into a texting pedestrian<br \/>\nPavement crossing with near oblivion<br \/>\nInstead of mumbling hello<br \/>\nTo people we know<br \/>\nBy virtue of passing them<br \/>\nWith a smile of recognition<br \/>\nAs though we both knew where we are going.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h6>A long story, this\u2026<br \/>\nWas first published in 2017 by Lois Klassen of Light factory Publications, as an element in the \u2018Reading the Migration Library\u2019<\/h6>\n<p>***<\/p>\n<p><em><strong>Graham McGarva<\/strong>&nbsp;is a Metro Vancouver architect, urbanist, and poet.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A Long Story this &#8230; It was at Quebec and Terminal in 1973, as a young immigrant hitch-hiker,&nbsp; I arrived at the Pacific; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp; and from there through the October drizzle<a href=\"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/2018\/04\/30\/a-long-story-this\/\">Continue reading <span class=\"sr-only\">&#8220;Writing Vancouver &#8211; A Long Story this \u2026&#8221;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8363,"featured_media":31882,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_ef_editorial_meta_paragraph_assignment":"","_ef_editorial_meta_date_first-draft-date":"","_ef_editorial_meta_checkbox_needs-photo":"","_ef_editorial_meta_number_word-count":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[13,11229,11230,15,11233,25,26,6670,11235,11236],"tags":[377,1079,11814,519,11673,11813,214],"class_list":["post-31759","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-civic-engagement","category-communication","category-community","category-culture","category-history","category-infrastructure","category-neighbourhoods","category-politics","category-urban-design","category-walking","tag-affordability","tag-author","tag-community-activism","tag-false-creek","tag-false-creek-south-neighbourhood-association","tag-social-purpose-poetics","tag-vancouver-2"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v26.5 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>The shape-shift of City Building<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Since arriving at the edge of False Creek in 1973, I have been re-arranging these shores for over forty years for people come to neighbour my lease-grip on this land. What for? And for whom? Three poems written over 20 years reflection on the shape-shift of this city building\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/spacing.ca\/vancouver\/2018\/04\/30\/a-long-story-this\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The shape-shift of City Building\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Since arriving at the edge of False Creek in 1973, I have been re-arranging these shores for over forty years for people come to neighbour my lease-grip on this land. What for? And for whom? 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