Zoe at home


Zoe at home

Once Zoe was home, the first night, all I had to feed her was puppy kibble that was given to me when I bought her. I walked across the street to Loblaws and they didn't have a puppy milk formula.

The next morning I called Carp Road Animal Hospital (great Veterinarian office, I was living in Stittsville at the time) and they had a cancellation and she was welcome immediately.

I wasn't quite prepared for her yet so I drove with her lying in my lap. She was tiny, like 3 tennis balls in size and she didn't react to the environment much yet.

The Vet checked her over, was appalled that she had been given up so soon, and told me and gave me a run down of how to take care of her. Kibble was out and she gave me some cans of Esbilac, a liquid puppy formula that she would need to eat for the next four weeks. PetSmart had it. It was cheaper to buy the powder than the liquid so I learned how to prepare it, warm it slightly and I used a big syringe for the first week. Then started giving it to her in a tiny bowl several times a day. She seemed to like it and I gave her a much as she needed.

The Vet also mentioned because she wasn't getting her mother's milk during a really important phase in her life she might be more susceptible to certain illnesses. She wan't getting her Mom's antibodies and she might have some disadvantages when it came to fighting infection, etc. So I had to make sue she ate right,  and regular shots and check ups and she should be fine.

I didn't have a crate for the first few nights. A neighbour down the street had one and donated it. Before the crate, I gave her a doggie pillow about her size and put down paper towels near her. I took her outside after every meal and she was pretty good about doing her business. There were a couple of accidents. Tiny accidents.

When you get a puppy that is four weeks old their eyes haven't completely developed yet plus a bunch of other things. They seem oblivious to stuff. They also can't crane their neck and look up yet.

I remember standing crouched over her, "hey sweetie, want some food?". She could hear me but she couldn't make the connection. She would look side to side.

She developed like crazy. She was always stimulated, always loved and becoming a Real Puppy.

Gromit for scale

Gromit for scale


Hello, Punky Punk


Hello, Punky Punk

I left my wife of 16 years mid 2005 and she wouldn't let me take my two cats. I love animals and I was lost without their company.

I hadn't had a dog since I was 13. It's been 24 years. I "think" I can handle the responsibility. So I started looking.

I found Zoe in an Ad, back when Kijiji was new and a better place to find anything (looking at you, Craig), and I responded, asked if I could see them.

They respond. A family had a litter of seven puppies and they were selling them at $200 each. They were selling the litter quite early. They said the puppies were now eating solid food. The litter was born October 7, 2005 and the ad was placed a couple of days after the picture below was taken.

This stank. Nothing right about weaning animals this early, they need at least two months of their mother's milk; they're really immature and don't have the wherewithal to find a food bowl let alone fight for a teat with their siblings. I grew up knowing little furry things we adopt need at least 8 weeks of their mother's attention.

Zoe, less than a month old. This is the image they used for the ad and I fell in love with this little Bologna Loaf (Bill Watterson reference) and had to have her.

Zoe, less than a month old. This is the image they used for the ad and I fell in love with this little Bologna Loaf (Bill Watterson reference) and had to have her.

When I called I asked if any of the puppies were still available and could I come by for a viewing stating that I REALLY wanted the puppy in the picture if "it" was still available. Something told me that the puppy pictured was the one I needed to adopt/buy and take home with me.

"She" was.

We made an appointment. I went to visit them and see the puppies.

The family lived in a town-house with neighbors on both sides. They had a female dog who wasn't spayed.

She looks nothing like Zoe. She was quite a bit smaller than her, fully grown. Zoe's Mom.

She looks nothing like Zoe. She was quite a bit smaller than her, fully grown. Zoe's Mom.

Their next door neighbor had a dog who looked EXACTLY like Zoe but quite a bit larger. Zoe's mom went into heat and her Dad dug under the fence into Zoe's Mom's yard and the sparks flew. The pregnancy wasn't planned, obviously and now this family needed new homes for thee little guys.

Zoe's Dad. Much bigger than Zoe but a dead ringer.

Zoe's Dad. Much bigger than Zoe but a dead ringer.

They had the puppies in the basement... a horrible damp, dark dungeon-like basement where things went to die. They were in a little pen and they were tiny and moving around in there. The Mom was sniffing around but it looked like she had lost all interest in them. She jumped in the pen and the puppies started getting her scent and gravitated towards her but she didn't seem to care. Then she jumped out.

I asked about "Zoe" and asked to hold her.

The owners had given each puppy a different coloured cat collar so they could tell them apart. The husband reached in and picked out a puppy and handed her to me.

She was tiny, so small, so fragile. I remember this very well, her puppy smell, "her" just being "her", with me next to her and it was just like that. I was smitten. I didn't want to hold another dog, thanks. I found what was missing.

I had never had my own dog.

The family told me they had given her the name "Porky" as she was the first-born and gained the most weight in infancy and for a while she outweighed all her other siblings. They laughed and thought it was cute. I didn't. I didn't think it was funny that she was being weaned a month early and supposed to eat kibble and water. That's what they had in their pen; bowl of water and a bowl of kibble.

There you go guys, make your way...

I spent some time with her and really wanted to take her right then and there but after what I had seen I was worried about a few things and I needed time to think and maybe get some advice. I was making a big decision. I wanted a healthy dog.

I left telling them I was looking at other puppies. That was a lie. What I really wanted was the dog in that picture.

I went home and did some thinking.

There was no way I was leaving her there. If I had $1400 I would have taken each one.

Couple of days later, we pick her up.

She gets a bath. Once she couldn't fit in the sink any more all baths were chaos and struggle.

She gets a bath. Once she couldn't fit in the sink any more all baths were chaos and struggle.

And Zoe becomes a part of my life, and I have no idea what I am doing.

Zoe, first day at home, hairless guinea pig for scale.

Zoe, first day at home, hairless guinea pig for scale.


Goodbye, Punky Punk


Goodbye, Punky Punk

I had to put down my best friend Zoe on Thursday, August 23, 2018.

She was suffering. A lot. She had cancer that had spread through her whole body and her quality of life was poor. It was in her lungs, everywhere. Her mobility had declined and she was uncomfortable lying down, standing. She was no longer able to sit.

I went in for a 4:30PM appointment thinking she had Mastitis in one of her teats, making walking, sitting and lying hard. The Vet updates her shots, drains the infection, gives Zoe a course of antibiotics, a cone of shame and she would be back.

No, an hour later she was gone.

I saw signs yet I missed them. Her appetite was good and hadn't changed but I was fooling myself - thinking her mobility was due to Arthritis and old age - and I should have taken her to the Vet weeks before. Sooner. Much sooner. Would the outcome have changed? Would blood work, x-rays and surgery have changed the outcome? No, according to the Vet and she went on to tell me that Zoe had been quite the soldier and was in worse shape than she had let on. Her decline in the last two weeks was very quick and distressing. Lying next to her on the floor of the vet office I held her until she passed, weeping tears of pain, loss and the knowledge I could have done more to ease her suffering.

I held Zoe a while longer and continued whispering the mantra I gave her every night while we cuddled in bed, "I love you, Zoe, you're a good girl, Zoe is a Good Girl and I love Zoe." While hearing her Mantra she would make her "purr" sound as I whispered and I would pet her head and scratch her ears. She needed to know that. She was an amazing companion. I wanted her to be happy and that in turn helped me. I could count on her silent composure to get me through anything. She deserved to be cherished.

She changed my life for the better and made an impact on everyone who met her.

I numbly left and walked home without her to an empty house where for 24 hours I kept imagining hearing her claws on the hardwood, her collar. My mind not yet dealing with her absence. I am still thinking, "Zoe needs a walk and a poop" but that reality is gone. And that finality is devastating.

I'm writing this because this magnificent being deserves a tribute fitting to Gods and Heroes. Zoe was my co-pilot . The emptiness and size of the space she's leaving in my life is overwhelming.

This is therapy and to cherish her memory; I can barely function right now.

I Love you, Punky Punk.

RIP (October 7, 2005 - August 23, 2018)




What the hell is Kevin?

He started out without a name and was just a nightmarish thing I wanted to make real.

I've never been crazy about spiders. I've also suffered a few spider bites and if you've never been bitten by a spider, a bite is not fun. I'm not phobic, I just don't like the eight eyes. And those eight eyes became the focus of this piece.

I like to research stuff in order to be as accurate as possible. I found the above image on Google, printed it out and tried to find the the eye configuration that was the most unsettling. I posted these two tests to Facebook:



Maker Faire Ottawa, 2016

Maker Faire Ottawa 2016 was a total blast.

Here’s my take:

Having a booth there was weird. You ever seen a video of that poor dog that has a tasty treat on their snout and they just sit there until a command is given? Cruel. Just as cruel as having a booth at Maker Faire and not being allowed to play.

And around 2:30 Sunday afternoon, I realized the command wasn’t ever going to come and just went on a walkabout.

A lot of 3D Printer stuff. The guy’s to my right (ORD Solutions) had an incredible printer. It had five extruders and they were showing off mixed coloured prints using CMYK and a translucent filament (see pic). The samples they had out er

They guy to the left of me, Ed Blaser, turned out to be the same guy whose Kijiji ad I had replied to about cheaper filament AND better quality. I learned so much from him about best-practices, and some really cool tricks and work-arounds. He was really cool, I got a bust-type 3D scan and he’s offered to scan all my bowls. Nice guy and will probably be my source for filament (when I can afford it).

A lot of Star Wars stuff. I’m a geek, proud of it, but not a fan of the franchise since someone let Lucas wipe his ass with it. I will say, there was an awesome moment when a robot dog bumped into a life size R2 and it freaked out like in the movies. The company/people who designed it know what they’re doing.

There was an art installation I wish I had spent time talking to the artists about. The write-up on the MF site is poor.

There was a wall of plants with projected imagery. Amazing. A walking stick bug in a bowl that through just “being”, took selfies of itself every time it moved with the several iPhones surrounding it.

It seemed very equal in gender. A lot of booths were a woman, who had an idea, made it, and was there to show it off. I was impressed with the wearable tech, clothes that reacted to the wearer’s emotional state, and the IoT sculpture that you waved your hands over to move a projected puzzle to a solution, where it was duplicated in another city… very cool.

Another company was set up to help artists at a communist level.

The Ottawa Tool Library was there and the Ottawa Public Library.

The Ottawa Public Library. I Pimp those guys out any chance I get. When I got asked how I made my stuff, I plugged OPL_BPO.

This is a follow up to my post about my bowls.

I wanted the Maker Faire experience to be about getting feedback on my bowls, what did people think, etc.

On a scale of 0 to 10, solid 10. Now it’s about making them practical.

Having Ed Blaser set up next to me was a fortuitous thing. I’m sitting next to the guy I was dealing with online about getting better and more affordable filament. The dude even scanned a bust of me (pic attached)

What got crazy weird is this. Celeste (La Petite Masquerade) and her husband Jacob, were at Art in Fashion 613 as well. Celeste had a show on the runway of her masks and I had a table. We left Maker Faire early to set up and got there, everything was just in the knick of time, things were good.

 I went home and changed so I didn’t look and feel like I did at the Mod Club in August, came back.

I wanted to showcase my art at Maker Faire, my bowls at AiF613. So I stood there, behind my table and suddenly, this guy called Derek comes up to me and is like, “Hey David! Great to see you here!”

He’s the guy who cuts all my wood for the laser cutter. He saw a couple of bowls months ago, offered some way more exotic hardwoods, and he was here because his wife was catering the desserts for the event.

Now, that evening, once he showed my bowls to his wife, things got really exciting.

Crazy coincidences. And, seeing Derek at AiF613, he’s giving me a box of mixed hardwood scraps, perfectly milled for cutting to pick up tomorrow.

I am so looking forward to seeing the topographic bowls with some rich striations running through them.

I spent quite a bit of time getting my art ready for Maker Faire. That’s not what people wanted. They wanted something they could “touch”, something on the table.

However, I did get an invitation with the art, so there’s that.

I also got asked, twice, by the Museum of Science and Technology to hold a workshop about Art & Technology. The Visitor Experience Director at the museum and her assistant both asked me, separately and I agreed to do it. Some time in the new year in their temporary location. They open officially November 2017.

What I learned is this:

  • Get more business cards. Better quality
  • Get a pop-up or two. VistaPrint has them for about $60. I used to think they were a waste of money. Not any more.
  • Have something interactive. This year was market research. Next year is Full-On noise makers
  • Have an LCD display with a loop on the production process. Easy to make and will make people stop and take a closer look.
  • Have an assistant. I’m tired of doing this alone. I’ll pay someone if I have to but I’m done doing this alone.
  • Less is More. Keep key art pieces at gallery height, everything else is wasted.
  • Get some lanyards and branded inserts.
  • Product catalogue (early days, just writing it out)
  • Get an iPad. I swore I would never get one but they are useful.
  • Have a giveaway. Get email addresses, follow CASL.

Next year, is gonna be great. Next year is sound. Next year isn’t bowls you can’t put guacamole in.



RAW:Toronto presents VERVE AUG 25th and 26th @ 8:00PM EDT | Mod Club


RAW:Toronto presents VERVE AUG 25th and 26th @ 8:00PM EDT | Mod Club

So, I had my second, and I believe final, showcase with RAW Artists at the Mod Club Friday night as an artist.

Did I sell anything?


Did anyone come out to support me?

Again, nope.

Do I measure the experience as a success?

YES. 100%.

Let me explain from the beginning.

My first showcase was huge for me. It gave me the confidence I lacked, to do, and continue doing, something I hadn't touched in twenty years.

I was invited to do the Toronto show rather than the Montreal showcase. As much as I love Montreal, I still consider Toronto home and I understand it a bit better.

By the way, I hadn't been in Toronto since last year. What I noticed this time is the amazing cultural diversity everyone says Toronto is known for. It really gave me faith in humanity and made me proud to be 1, Canadian and 2, human. It showed me that there is hope that one day, maybe, the biggest fight between races is who gets the tv remote.

I digress.

This last year has been very trying on a personal level. I went through some extreme hardships that only a handful of people know about and I was (and still am) fortunate that they were there. No details, not here, sorry. Let me just say that simple daily tasks became monumental efforts during the darkest parts.

To rise from that and keep going meant some changes. And change I did.

I try to face challenges head on. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes a distraction is more viable than dealing with a cold hard fact. One of those distractions was Art. I'm capitalizing the word now, but I didn't back then. Then it was a crutch, now it's a Voice. A croaky, rusted unused Voice, but it works. I'm using it and it feels great. I still need to sand and oil it but it's going to look and work like new, trust me.

That Voice, and a new house with all the space I need to exercise it, have really helped me heal parts of me I was worried were damaged forever. It was extremely cathartic... So cathartic, that the transformation from broken shell to "plays well with others" literally happened overnight.

I had actually and gradually cured, to a large extent, my years long fight with insomnia. I woke up one Saturday morning to continue working on a few pieces, and I looked at them for a bit, noticed they were silent - the cacophony they started with, like screaming birds, was gone - and I said to them, "Goodbye."

And I feel nothing for them. Would they have been cool to look at, finished? Hell yeah. Would I have been happy they existed? Hell no. That's why they were pulled apart. Pieces got used in other things. Other parts will be used somewhere else. Canvases sanded down and reused. When they start talking again, I'll take notice. Hopefully, they remain silent. I fixed some things by the simple act of creating

That out of the way, I have achieved an inner "something". I don't think a word exists to really describe it but it pulls together so many righteous and positive things all my heart at once. I'm sure the Germans have a word for it like Schadenfreude (something I try never to practice) Their language is awesome for that.

Anyway, That "Something", became besties with Voice and Art. They're usually inseparable but once in a while they have an argument about something like what show to watch and who should have the remote. It doesn't last long and before you know it, they're binge watching crap like two and a half men, and swilling hipster beers. Dicks.

These three things are my super power. I can't fly (yet) but they are an incredible cure for having a direction and a place where you want and need to be.

Where I NEEDED to be, was Toronto, doing this showcase and it came very close to not happening.

Here's why.
My car sucks and I had to get a rental. That delayed my departure I was behind in what I wanted to accomplish so I had to make some decisions: what got left behind, what could work, etc. I really wanted to get my latest piece working, a capacitive synth, with 12 triggers that could fire loops I created. Next time.

I had to make sure I had everything I needed… I couldn’t dash home and get it.

I was running on fumes. I was up til 3:00AM mocking up my placement of my pieces, gathering cables and packing my crash kit in case something decided not to work. Like the Atari Punk synth, which was working again finally… somehow and somewhere a bunch of wires pulled out of the circuit board. I packed the SUV very carefully and after some initial settling the ride was very quiet. I left at 12:30, three hours behind when I wanted to leave and I was going to hit much hour.

The 401 was great until near Ajax, for no reason, we were all at a standstill for 15 minutes. Half hour later, same thing. I started to panic a bit, it was going to be close. At the RAW show in Ottawa, I was late setting up and it showed. I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

So, finally I’m on The Gardiner nearing my exit but I need to get in the right lane. Didn’t happen, which added 20 minutes to my journey. That dull panic earlier is now my rapidly increasing heart rate, becoming and audible thing.

I get to the venue and I like the area, never been. It’s ten to six and I hold off until I can park on the street, pretty close to the front doors.

I start bringing things in. Its warm and humid which is my least favorite weather. I perspire a lot, I’m wearing jeans and the shower I took just before leaving is a distant memory.

This is where things go totally pear shaped really quickly. The artist on the other side of my setup has used up all the outlets. It takes some convincing to free one up (she was charging her phone… seriously?)

I had a plan on setting up everything that needed power, had a screen was gallery height and clustered together. I had to change that. A big problem I had in Ottawa was the two power bars I brought didn’t work. I brought two different ones. THEY DIDN’T WORK EITHER. Internally, I am freaking the hell out now, sweating profusely. I need to take a step back, calm down and figure this out. I’m shaking and not thinking right. Daniel Anaka, one of the other artists, comes over and introduces himself while I’m flying around like a madman. I wish I had been a but calmer so I could give him the attention he deserved. Sorry about that, Daniel. Also, apologies about not being able to shake your hand but you could see I was bleeding like a stuck pig. Blood was everywhere. I brought Windex, thankfully, wiped up what I could and tried to figure out power situation.

The event photographer was also pressuring me to pose for my headshot. A few things had to happen before I could do that but most importantly I wanted a goddamn shower. I was soaked and felt 100 different kinds of gross. I was not a happy camper and I was questioning my involvement in the show, my parents conceiving me, art in general, people, everything. For a brief time there I was not to be approached. I was fucking pissed at myself.

Around 7:45PM, I think, I had no choice but to take my packing stuff back to the car plus some extra pieces I didn’t have room to show. Maybe, magically, a power bar was lying in the back. I need to clean up. The blood especially. I had so much adrenaline flowing through me, I felt no pain but that small cut was like a fountain.

Haha. Made it downstairs to change shirts, took a pic of my hand, posted to Facebook “shit start to the night.”, got rid of all the blood I could, washed up and TRIED to look dry long enough for my headshot. Didn’t happen.

Make it upstairs, get my headshot, and the photographer (you were awesome, dude) lends me an extension powerbar. I still have to move my car. Meter’s run out and I move it to the parking lot across the street. $20 but it will be safe for the rest of the night.

Park the car, light a smoke, take a deep breath, count backwards from ten, look at the sky and ready myself for a busy four hours, reach one, look at the venue and there’s a line up and people are already heading in.

I run to get inside because my booth still looks like crap, I need to put price/name tags on each piece, plug my backup battery packs into what won’t fit on the extension cord and light everything else up.

Something else I was dealing with, somewhere dimly, was possible repercussions regarding the Blue Violin. My imagination is… very cinematic. Very dark, violent, twist ending, Indie, cinematic which isn’t helpful. My worry was someone would make things difficult. But, honestly, once the place started filling up, I didn’t think about it again. I did have a 90 second smartass stop motion video (GREAT Idea, Jenn. Thank you!) of the violin being caressed by the spider legs on loop all night. And I enjoyed telling a few people parts of the controversy. Snigger.

I think it was around 9:30 that I was finally relaxed and was enjoying myself. I was kinda hoping to sell a piece or two, ergo the price tags. However, I can’t price art worth crap and thought my prices were too high so I surreptitiously, removed all the tags and would give a lower price if asked. Molly Koenig, who I shared a fence with HAD IT TOGETHER. A very talented young woman, she had her original watercolours available as well as smaller flammable prints. She accepted credit cards. Business for her was booming. I learned so much from her approach and took mental notes.

That mad against the world angst and anger I felt earlier was gone. I was here for a reason. I was doing it and I felt great. I still wanted a shower more than ever.

I met some very very cool people that night and connected again with a couple of people I knew already. Michelle, the director is an awesome person. We shared a smoke and we talked music after listening to The Scroll play. Great MYL, eighties sounding band (check them out). Turns out, she loves synths as much as I do. The event DJ spun some great industrial (sploosh) during a couple of performance breaks and that really helped me calm down and focus on the here and now. People were curious and asked questions, and I chatted with genuinely interested people.

As it turns out, anything I brought that was a noise maker would have been lost. My only complaint was the volume throughout the night. Great sounding system. Just was too loud.

Again, did I sell anything?


Am I disappointed?

Not in the slightest. I wasn’t there for that. I was there to grow. The business cards I received, the box of business cards I gave out, the upcoming interview with Culture Fancier, the chance to submit for MUSE 2016, the amazing Torontonians I talked to, are things that would not have happened, sitting here in Ottawa.

I was also surrounded by incredible talent. I was humbled by what I saw and very happy to have had a chance to meet some of them and friend them on Facebook. It would have been nice to meet everyone. Maybe another venue.

RAW Artists, the organization, gives the aspiring artist - whatever it is you do - a real chance to get out there and be seen.

I’ve learned patience. I know rejection. It’s cool. Some things take time. Some things will never happen. I’m happier engaging the Here and Now, expecting nothing but appreciating living those moments fully.

THANK YOU RAW Artists, your organization and the faith you place in us. I am so grateful for these two opportunities. And, a huge thank you to Michelle Bylow, who unfortunately got tangled up with the Blue Violin fiasco, for seeing it for what it is. Thank you to all the RAW Artist Toronto/Ottawa staff. Your events are flawless.

THANK YOU fellow artists that I have met, friended and become genuine friends with. I appreciate everything about you and I gain strength from what you do. I wish you all the success.

Molly and Tara Koenig for offering to help me bring stuff to my car. That was such a nice unexpected gesture and it was a pleasure chatting with you. Thank you. And congrats, Molly, you had a very successful night!

Thank you Daniel Anaka. The brief chat we had about what I should charge for my pieces opened my eyes and frankly shocked me. I have much to learn

Petr and Steve. I enjoy the spitballing ideas, the casual hang outs and trading bits of junk to make new stuff. Petr, we will make the Analog Electro Sounder. I’ll leave out the Radium and Asbestos for MKI.

Stuff I learned:

Power bars inexplicably die on me for some reason
Leave more room for debugging and breadboard before assembling
Bring a duplicate of important things
Have an assistant
Show up in grubs, shower, change before show. Man, I felt so gross all night.
Arrive the night before, relax and enjoy a few drinks after, stay the night, leave in the morning
Don’t bleed all over everything

I have a couple of art things I need to finish up but I'm taking a bit of a break. I have a couple of REALLY COOL projects I'm just starting.

Stay tuned