The sound of silence (or something) at Still Creek

 

 

Here's a favourite place of mine – Il Centro, the Italian Cultural Centre of Vancouver – just a short bus ride from my home base.  The fabulous art director at their gallery -- Il Museo  -- curates 4-6 exhibits a year, and I try to catch each one.  After viewing July's exhibit, I ambled through nearby Beaconsfield Park and saw construction signs posted.

 

Hey!!  Hydration!!  I'd heard of Still Creek, of course, but didn't know of this significant City of Vancouver project – and its evolving success, bringing spawning salmon back to its waters.  You can scroll down in this City link for a YouTube video and see lots of salmon in action, in just the first two minutes.

 

On my July visit, the wetlands recovery was just getting underway.

 

Back at home, I was soon delving into all kinds of internet sources.  Here's a vintage photo that slightly resembles the outflow shown beyond the blue fencing.

 

Here's another, which could be anywhere along the course of the creek, showing early 20^th century boys doing what boys do.

 

It was time for me to get going on my next production, and I was still uncertain what to do.  Putting a sombre base coat on my panel qualified, at least, as "doing something rather than nothing."

 

And, you know what?  I'd already had my fill of abstraction.  I wanted to get back to people in their settings.  That outflow and bridge looked promising – add two small boys in knickers, maybe?

 

Well, suddenly the ground shook.  Earthquake?  Revelation?  Realization!  It was the middle of August, and how could I have forgotten what was about to erupt on the world stage?!

 

 

 

And here they were!  I didn't need to do a thing except push some paint around and get out of their way.  Here's "Tsunami at Still Creek" – Hydration Series, copyright 2025.

 

"This is zany," you say?  Here's the guy to hold responsible – Zanni, one of the stock characters of the Commedia dell'Arte.  (and yes, the source of the English word "zany.")

 

 Just think:  As of September 1^st, this whole gang has another 21 days to go!

 

 

Let's keep hopping upstream!

  

Flowing along with our Hydration theme, we last convened on one of the early 19^th-century footbridges over Brewery Creek—not in wintertime, granted, but this snow scene was welcome during the past week's super-hot weather.

 

Now we're headed south to the higher elevation from which Brewery Creek flowed.  The route is by no means a straight line as you can see on the map.  Usually a click on the picture will enlarge it, and I've added a wide circle and another red arrow to indicate roughly the borders of our next destination, Tea Swamp.

 

Those who prefer coffee might make bad jokes about the liquid contents of Tea Swamp, but it's called that for a good reason.  Labrador Tea is the common name for a wild shrub that grows across the cooler regions of North America, as one of three varieties in the rhododendron family.  Indigenous peoples used it variously to brew a liquid drink, often for medicinal purposes, or to flavour their cooking.

 

Just as Brewery Creek and its footbridges are lost in the mists of time, so too has Tea Swamp become just a memory.  Well, the memory lingers on in wonky streets and rollercoaster sidewalks.  I regularly walk this familiar route on East 19^th Street.  My camera couldn't quite capture the thrilling changes of elevation as tree roots and city utility lines have held their ground while the land continues to subside.

 

Our old house was a few blocks uphill and eastward from here.  When the first multi-storey building was built on the slope, we endured pile-driving for days on end – and more of the same just ten years ago, after moving another six blocks away, as this intersection was further developed.  (If you've become hooked on this fascinating!!! story, take a browse in this local journalist's account.)

 

It was here, just beyond the new building in the upper right, that I once chatted with a construction worker at a vacant lot being fenced off for development.  He recalled early school days when field trips would bring his class here to see the vanishing remains of Tea Swamp.  And that brings us back to Summer Camp 2025, and a semi-abstract hint of what Tea Swamp might once have been.

 

Mixed-media is the way to go, and I began with a favourite "loosening up" technique – applying plastic wrap to a still-wet painted surface and lifting it when the paint is almost dry.

 

 

Using acrylic gel, I attached some old found bits of hardware and a stream of threads from worn rags.  Next I used a couple of printmaking has-beens to stamp some darker colours. 

 

 

Then, as I was preserving Tea Swamp for all time, why not preserve crumbs from the most beautiful leaf I found last fall?  It was otherwise destined for the green organic waste bin.

 

Here's the finale, "Tea Swamp Unearthed – Hydration Series" copyright 2025.

 

We've travelled from the footbridge at what is today East 7^th Ave to Tea Swamp at East 19^th.  If we continued our ascent (spoiler alert -- that's not on our itinerary), the source of Brewery Creek would be near this intersection at East 31^st.  I took this photo, looking downhill towards the old environs of Tea Swamp, after having an eye exam.  I hadn't quite realized how indistinct it would appear, but maybe in the distance, those are "the mists of time."