Went to a presentation of the Vancouver Writer's Festival last night. Had a grand old time - mainly thanks to the company I was with. But, on an odd note, I got told by one of the writers, a poet named Benjamin Zephaniah, that I look like Andy Warhol. Um - I don't. Well, other than having white hair, that is. We got to talking - briefly, as I was actually busy being sort of rude, photographing him with a friend who happens to be a big fan of his work - and his next remark was that Andy had fake hair. Thanks, Ben. My hair looks fake. Oh, that's just great! O.K. - laughed. Mr. Zephaniah was a very nice guy. It would have been interesting to wander across to the bar nearby and talk, but, the obligations of fame called. To him, not me. Just in case you were wondering.

On the other hand, I'm a huge fan of Warhol, so being told I look like him (no credit to me - wait long enough and your hair'll be white, too) was sort of oddly flattering. Now, if only I had one one thousandth of Andy's talent.