Like large SAM Cooke has in the past sung, I was supported by the river. Not Mississippi, but Saskatchewan of the south; and not in a small tent but in the hospital of university of university with Saskatoon, Paris of the meadows. My parents had met by the university, they that both lived during one winter in the same pension. We lived in Saskatoon approximately four years, then moved in England. After two years in London, we returned to Canada and we are established in Toronto. My parents live always there, in the house which they bought "the second hand" in 1965.
When I was nineteen years old, I moved in England being studied with architectural association, and a pleasant time which it was too. My students of comrade taught me as much as the tutors and the lecturers. I lived in London during years of seventeen, functioning initially as an architect commutating then with the programming computer while my interests changed.
Eight years ago, I moved in Stuttgart, Germany where I live now. I had permuted irregularly between London and Stuttgart during several years before which, learning the language and with the retrospection to acquire a circle of the friends and customers.
I work most of the time at the house as a basic programmer of data, but offices of the customers of visit for work of consultation and during the social life. To work at the house is convenient and strongly productive, but can only be smelled. There is also nobody differently to blame when the coffee becomes exhausted.
I am a sharp reader and a collector of the books. Not right antiquities or first editions, things that I read and wishes to still read. I value reserves like objects as much as for their contents.
"To work at the house can only be smelled." Wow, that is so deep. Sartre might have said that, or Jean-Luc Godard on a bad day. I shall have to start collecting Babelfishisms, we'll call it Accidental Philosophy. Coming Soon To A Browser Near You.
There's also a Babelfish translation of my "Personal" page into German and back.
Copyright © John Skinner, 2002. All rights reserved.
Last updated 2002.11.05