The Right Angle

Baylee Wolfesberger enjoying her Sunday afternoon.

On Sunday, October 19th, I went slacklining. I’d never heard of this before last week; it means to tie a broad, flat rope between two trees and walk across it. With or without your hand on someone’s shoulder – or two people, in my case. The trick is to step quickly, have both feet on the rope as much as possible, look at the tree instead of the ground, and grab on to your companions for dear life. It was more fun than it sounds.

It also made for some great photos.

I took a photography class in CEGEP, about six years ago. I can’t remember now what any of the developing fluids were called, how long to soak the negatives in them or even how to program an analog camera, but I do remember what my teacher said about photography and truth. She said even though the camera never lies – or at least it didn’t, before Photoshop – you always have a choice which truth to tell.

The scene in front of you is what it is, but the angle, lighting, zoom, or even whether we take the picture or not – that’s where your message comes through.

Slacklining may be fun, but there’s a lot of wobbling, grimacing and tumbling on the grass. On the other hand, when it’s done right, it’s as graceful as any tightrope walk. You can focus on their faces, their feet, a single person playing a stunt, two or three supporting each other, or the entire bunch of us around the trees in one wide shot. If each one of the eight people at the park with me had used their smartphones too, we would have all had slightly different angles.

What I liked was the smiles. Balancing in the air is exhilarating, and my schoolmates’ faces show it. I also loved seeing three people gather around to help someone climb the rope, and then to stay balanced. I saw her fear turn to joy right in front of me.

I swore when my dorm mates invited me that I’d never go on that rope, but seeing them encouraged me to try something new. That’s why I take these pictures, almost every day: because I never want to forget what I’m learning here.

Review: Beyond the Pale Motel

Maternal, sexy Catt and her beautiful, daring best friend Bree are hairdressers at an L.A. salon called Head Hunter, and work out at a gym called Body Farm. They have over a decade of sobriety behind them and are getting close to living the lives they've always wanted.

But when Catt's husband, Dash, leaves her, and then her neighbor is brutally murdered, possibly by a man being called the Hollywood Serial Killer, Catt's world begins to come crashing down. The murdered victims all seem to bear a chilling resemblance to Bree. Catt suspects that Bree is the next target of the Hollywood Serial Killer...is she losing touch with reality or simply coming to terms with the truth?

In Beyond the Pale Motel, a terrifying and intensely erotic novel, Francesca Lia Block explores the dangers of modern living, loving and dying with lyrical edge and sensational attitude.

Since her publication of the Weetzie Bat series, the Ecstasia books and Echo in the early 1990’s, Ms. Block has become famous for her magical, idealistic fairy tales and her signature dreamy prose. In these books, a genie shows a suffering gay man visions of his future lifelong lover; four musicians turn a desert green with their love for a newborn baby; a woman falls in love with a winged man who may not be an angel. L. A. comes to life as both hell and paradise, as well as lush images of fashion, food and love.

Since the late zeroes, however, Ms. Block’s tone has been growing steadily darker. Beyond The Pale Motel is her darkest novel yet.

It is also her first shift in genre, from fantasy to murder mystery. As such it is very well written; the vagueness of information and plot holes her early work shows have been replaced by solid realism – all too solid in a world where Jack the Ripper and other serial killers not only exist, but fascinate. The identity of the killer comes as a complete surprise, especially to those unfamiliar with this genre. It is revealed in a very graphic, very disturbing scene, the last of many sexual and/or violent elements in this novel. It is not recommended for children.

The story begins when Catt Berns, hairstylist, recovering alcoholic, devoted godmother and loving wife, finds out her husband is seeing another woman. When he leaves her, a flood of insecurities bursts the dam: shame about her weight, jealousy of better-looking women, the need to drink, resentment for her neglected childhood, frustrated longing for a family of her own. At the same time, a so-called Hollywood Serial Killer dismembers beautiful women and leaves them in public places: women who look far too much like Catt’s best friend Bree.

Her virtues are also her flaws: she makes soup for the sick, tirelessly babysits her godson, comforts her clients at the hair salon and gives all of herself to the men she dates, but all because she cannot stand being alone. She tries to take care of everyone except herself, which becomes more and more difficult as the story goes on. Even her bond with her godson Skylar, her saving grace, is at risk. The chopped-off arms and legs of the murder victims are a repeated metaphor for Catt’s own fragmenting soul.

Her self-destructiveness does not feel contrived as it does in some novels; it’s a real vicious cycle of guilt for her behavior, fear of being judged, hope that the next man will be the right one, and guilt again when it isn’t. Her support network – her best friend Bree and AA sponsor Shana – do their best, but they are only human too and make mistakes. Even Catt’s lovers, which some writers would have turned into one-note distractions, are flesh-and-blood men. There is Dash, her rock-star husband and fellow AA member; Cyan, his estranged brother, a photographer who finds beauty in Catt when she can’t see it; Carlton, a good-natured foot fetishist; Jarrell, a macho baseball coach suffering from his own divorce; even Scott, a soft-spoken gym trainer suspected of being gay, whom Catt and Bree treat as one of the girls. They all have their own quirks, lovable qualities, and dark secrets. Any one of them, or none, might be the killer.

For anyone new to Ms. Block, and used to serial killer stories, this book is a tightly plotted, suspenseful and entertaining read. Fans of her early fantasy, however, or anyone with a low tolerance for horror, may want to think twice.