As 2009 approaches, I find myself feeling more optimistic about my future than ever before. It's probably just that psychological clean slate thing, but I'm feeling very hopeful for all I'm going to accomplish in this coming year and all that's going to happen.
The fixed time where one year ends and another begins is just something we made up, I understand that. But frankly, the timing couldn't be better. It comes shortly after Xmas, just when everything we've been building up to for the last month or so is over and we're settling down and thinking 'what's next?' It gives meaning to a month that is otherwise grey and dull and a little empty. And yes, while I acknowledge that we could thrust our fists into the air and say, "I'm making some changes for the better!," any time that we wanted too, there's something about that established once-a-year time where everything officially starts fresh that's terrifically motivating. During this time, it's somehow less difficult to put our pasts behind us and focus on the possibility our presents and futures hold.
So what is it I'm feeling so darn hopeful about? Creatively, many things. I've got grand plans for a big new project (or maybe two) I'd like to start soon, as well as many more little ideas for my current work. Seg's got a super fantastic camera coming in the mail, so I'm hoping with his help I can get some great photos taken of my work. And with those photos, a website should be in the works as well.
It's not all fun stuff though. I also intend to keep getting better at treating this creative stuff like a job. Learning to focus on my work when I'm producing at home, to take it as seriously as I did when I was in school is still something I'd like to get better at. It's easy to convince yourself it's not that important when no one else seems to take it very seriously, but why should they? It's up to me to show everyone how important it is, not the other way around.
More than anything, thinking about my youngest brother the other day made me realize how much I've got left to do. It occured to me the other day that by the time he's 18, I'll be 30. Not that old, really, I realize. But if I reach that age and still feel like I'm waiting to grow up, it would be a bit of a blow, I think. I want a home by then, I want a car and a bit of security. I want to have established myself as an artist and a designer. I want to feel less like I'm just standing and limply flailing my arms about.
I've got other goals I'll need to attain in order to make this happen, some financial, some organizational, some spiritual. But mostly, I want to keep developing as a creative person with a creative career, because that's what I want to build most of that other stuff around.
I'm curious to hear if any one else is setting goals or making resolutions or just has plans. Tell me, tell me, if you want to. And check out this website too. It's all about making a list of goals, seeing who else hopes to achieve the same things, getting encouragement and tips from others.
Good luck friends, see you all in 2009!
http://www.43things.com/
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Thoughts on a Walk Home
I've always been intrigued by footpaths. I enjoy exploring town made trails, getting behind things and around things and coming out again in unexpected places. But what really fascinates me are the paths people make themselves.
Walking the trails in Oakville, Seguin always laughed at the way I was so tempted by the little footpaths that would branch off the main route here and there. Seeing where they led was always rewarding; sometimes to a backyard, other times a hidden fort, sometimes to secret party places with discarded furniture, beer bottles and fire pits. Sometimes they were just an even quicker route elsewhere. Other times they led to a pretty, hidden clearing, a spot that would feel secret and special to each person who had discovered it.
What's really neat to me though, is how paths like this are made. It's the same idea as what I learned in school about the silk road. As it was explained to me, it was a trade route that came about naturally over time, as opposed to something that had been planned and built. As traders made their way from point A to point B and back again, they started learning which routes were quickest and easiest. Over time, they became the established 'ways to go' that everyone knew to take.
That, for me, is the coolest thing about foot paths, back trails, and short cuts. They grow out of the necessity of a number of people who all want a quicker, easier or more pleasant way to get to the same place. And as these different people discover the same routes and use them time and time again, the earth hardens under their feet, the brush and undergrowth stop sprouting there, and paths are born.
Here's what got me thinking about this today. I seldom meet another person when I walk these paths. I know they must get use because they don't get overgrown, but I didn't realize until this morning just how often one of my shortcuts is frequented.
Coming home from a walk to the store, I cut through a vacant lot that takes me from the main road onto the end of my street. As it had snowed the night before, I clambered over the bank expecting to see the faint indentation of my trail buried under a covering of white. Instead, I saw it nicely packed down with the footprints of a number of people who had already passed through that morning. It was neat reminder of how these paths are really a community creation, and without all these people who had come before, they wouldn't exist at all.
Pretty neat, huh?
Walking the trails in Oakville, Seguin always laughed at the way I was so tempted by the little footpaths that would branch off the main route here and there. Seeing where they led was always rewarding; sometimes to a backyard, other times a hidden fort, sometimes to secret party places with discarded furniture, beer bottles and fire pits. Sometimes they were just an even quicker route elsewhere. Other times they led to a pretty, hidden clearing, a spot that would feel secret and special to each person who had discovered it.
What's really neat to me though, is how paths like this are made. It's the same idea as what I learned in school about the silk road. As it was explained to me, it was a trade route that came about naturally over time, as opposed to something that had been planned and built. As traders made their way from point A to point B and back again, they started learning which routes were quickest and easiest. Over time, they became the established 'ways to go' that everyone knew to take.
That, for me, is the coolest thing about foot paths, back trails, and short cuts. They grow out of the necessity of a number of people who all want a quicker, easier or more pleasant way to get to the same place. And as these different people discover the same routes and use them time and time again, the earth hardens under their feet, the brush and undergrowth stop sprouting there, and paths are born.
Here's what got me thinking about this today. I seldom meet another person when I walk these paths. I know they must get use because they don't get overgrown, but I didn't realize until this morning just how often one of my shortcuts is frequented.
Coming home from a walk to the store, I cut through a vacant lot that takes me from the main road onto the end of my street. As it had snowed the night before, I clambered over the bank expecting to see the faint indentation of my trail buried under a covering of white. Instead, I saw it nicely packed down with the footprints of a number of people who had already passed through that morning. It was neat reminder of how these paths are really a community creation, and without all these people who had come before, they wouldn't exist at all.
Pretty neat, huh?
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Some Christmas Cuteness
Today at work, there was a jolly looking white-bearded man wearing winter boots, jeans and one of those plaid work jackets. He was also wearing a Santa Claus hat, and that was enough to convince one little girl he was Santa.
It was pretty darn cute. He was leaning on his cane over by the movies, waiting for his groceries to be put through. The little girl was at the next checkout lane with her mother, watching him happily from her seat in the cart. One the way out, she waved and said "Bye bye, Santa!", to which he responded, "Be good!", and waved back.
It was great.
It was pretty darn cute. He was leaning on his cane over by the movies, waiting for his groceries to be put through. The little girl was at the next checkout lane with her mother, watching him happily from her seat in the cart. One the way out, she waved and said "Bye bye, Santa!", to which he responded, "Be good!", and waved back.
It was great.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Plans
So as far as travelling goes, I've been pretty much nowhere. As far North as Cochrane, as far South as Buffalo, as far East as Quebec city, as far West as, as what? What's West of here? I don't even know. South Hampton? Anyway, nowheres. My lovely lady Skye has been to Cuba and maybe some other places worth noting as well, but she's never been anywhere else in Canada.
We've had in our head for a while now this lovely trip we would take together somewhere, originally planned for somewhere Southern, somewhere hot. But as the weeks passed by and the time during which we must take this trip approached, it seemed less and less likely. What are we to do, we wondered? Are we going to book something or just let it slide? Then Skye comes up with a wonderful idea, smaller, doeable, and very, very fun. This February, we intend to take a mini road trip! A day in Montreal, a day in Quebec city, a day in Trois-Rivieres, another day in Montreal and finally, a day in Ottawa.
We have a decent idea of where we'll be staying each night and little to no clue of what we'll do in each city other than take lots of pictures and try and find the most fun and interesting ways to spend our time. It will be a bit of a whirlwind obviously, and lots of driving, but that's what a road trip is about, right? Hopefully the weather will be good. Hopefully we will both be granted the time off.
Pretty great, eh? Something to look forward to after Xmas.
In other news, happy December!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Take Off Your Pants
You know how sometimes you'll remember something long forgotten? Only the thing you remember is something small and silly but so great you can't believe how you ever could have forgotten it to begin with?
Last night, sitting in our room, out of nowhere Seguin sings, "I love rock'n'roll," and I instantly remembered that time a few years ago we were riding the Go train together. Some kid and his brother a few seats up were standing in front of the window, bouncing around, and the kid would sing, "I love rock'n'roll, take off your pants," over and over, and Seg and I were cracking up over it.
From that point onward, "I love rock'n'roll, take of your pants,' became a part of our random repertoire, to be busted out and sung whenever one of us felt like it. So it's funny how something like that could be a 'thing' for so long, then forgotten.
I'm glad it's back.
Last night, sitting in our room, out of nowhere Seguin sings, "I love rock'n'roll," and I instantly remembered that time a few years ago we were riding the Go train together. Some kid and his brother a few seats up were standing in front of the window, bouncing around, and the kid would sing, "I love rock'n'roll, take off your pants," over and over, and Seg and I were cracking up over it.
From that point onward, "I love rock'n'roll, take of your pants,' became a part of our random repertoire, to be busted out and sung whenever one of us felt like it. So it's funny how something like that could be a 'thing' for so long, then forgotten.
I'm glad it's back.
Monday, November 24, 2008
A Little Sunshine
Here's something fun and cute for the end of a gloomy November day.
Penelope had just woken up from a nap, and being the proud parent I am, I decided to take some pics while she was sleepy and still. Sleepy kitties yawn a lot apparently, so I got all these.
Pretty great, huh? I also saw this, which made me smile.
Cheers!
Mir
Mir
I just arrived home last night from my whirlwind trip to the city. I had a lot of preconceived notions about this trip; I lived there for over three years of my life, experienced my first real independence there, formed friendships, built routines, made a home. And I was desperate for it, as I hadn't been there in so, so long. This desperation and my tendancy for nostalgia led me to assume I'd be all fuzzy wuzzy the whole time I was there, and that I wouldn't want to leave when the trip was over.
It's funny how differently things can turn out.
Part of the reason for my unexpected response is because you really can't ever go home again. Things shift and change, sometimes drastically, sometimes subtley, but it never feels quite the same. The other part of the reason is that some things never change.
The whole Toronto part of our trip was like that, exactly the same. I'd expected to have some sort of 'Wow, it's great to be back,' feeling the instant we stepped off the subway downtown. But oddly, it was as if I'd never left. We hit the streets and there I was, nothing unusual about it, every part of me felt as if I did it every day. The only sense of longing or relief I had was that I was able to find every item I needed for work in about two seconds, and a wish that Toronto was closer so I could hop a bus and do that every time I needed something.
The Go train was like that too. I stepped aboard expecting to be gazing out the window the entire time, watching all the old scenery go by, my heart warmed by the familiarity of it all. (Seriously, I'm a cheese ball for 'the way things used to be.') But I may as well have done it every day that week, because I found myself uninterested, and spent the whole time beading, barely glancing at the window.
Oakville was where things were different. I was looking forward to riding a bus around again, but we were picked up in a car by a friend and her new (to me) boyfriend. We went back to her apartment in a building we had never been in and hung out for a while with a cat we'd never met. We then went to visit our other friends in their new house in a part of town I'd never really spent any time in. The stores we visited were new, we went out to a new place, even the taxi cab we rode in was different, with some new-fangled, computerized fare meter instead of the old red, digital clock-looking one.
Throughout this whole trip, I kept catching glimpses of my old Oakville world; a restaurant here, a bank there, the very top of the building we used to live in peeking over the wall as we passed it on the highway. But everything I saw was from a slightly different angle, a new perspective; it was as if I was viewing everything from a dream or like it was an exhibit at a museum. I could see it, but at a distance, I couldn't touch it or experience it the way it used to be.
Back in Toronto the following day, it was much as it had been the day before. I felt like a natural and completely ordinary part of my surroundings once again. And one thing that may seem contradictory to that statement had also not changed; I still can't stand the crowds. The mall, the streets, every place we wandered in an attempt to pass time while waiting for our bus was absolutely packed and busy. Sometimes I'm oblivious to it, sometimes I'm not. And when I'm feeling particulary tired, as I was, and a little ill, like I had since Friday, it's hard to deal with. That was one thing I hadn't expected, to be so glad to finally take a seat on the Northlander home.
Now I don't want to make my trip seem like a disappointment, because it certainly wasn't. The only thing I regret was not being able to meet up with a few good friends of mine there. But everything else was nice. It was cool being able to see Jen in her new apartment, which is an absolute dream, let me say. The view was wonderful, the cat was great, her boyfriend seems like a real sweetheart. I liked hanging out with Simon and Shane as well. That new house is great too and I had a genuinely good time. It was nice to see the city and buy everything I needed and remind myself of all the awesome supplies available to me there. And it was really nice to have a quiet morning walk with Seguin around our old town, even if it was completely different, something about it did feel the same.
What made it so strange, I suppose, was not the absence of emotions I'd expected to have, but instead the presence of ones I didn't expect to have. I was surprised by how instantly at home I felt in Simon's new house, by how nice I felt about Jen's new man. I was warmed by the feelings of home and contentment I got from and with Seguin, walking around and having an unexpected talk about Christmas. I was taken aback by how much I missed little Penelope.
But most of all, when the trip was over, I was caught off guard by how relieved I was to be back in Huntsville again. The instant I stepped off the bus, I was so completely grateful for the cold, clean air, the empty road, the space, the dark, the snow, the quiet. That's not to say that I no longer like the city; I'm still eager for the next time I visit. But having felt so torn between two places for the last year or so, I fully expected this trip to trigger a desire to move back. So I was completely surprised by its having the opposite effect, providing me instead with a sense of closure and contentment. Another era of my life has ended and the parts that remain have taken their places in my life. And another era has begun.
It's funny how differently things can turn out.
Part of the reason for my unexpected response is because you really can't ever go home again. Things shift and change, sometimes drastically, sometimes subtley, but it never feels quite the same. The other part of the reason is that some things never change.
The whole Toronto part of our trip was like that, exactly the same. I'd expected to have some sort of 'Wow, it's great to be back,' feeling the instant we stepped off the subway downtown. But oddly, it was as if I'd never left. We hit the streets and there I was, nothing unusual about it, every part of me felt as if I did it every day. The only sense of longing or relief I had was that I was able to find every item I needed for work in about two seconds, and a wish that Toronto was closer so I could hop a bus and do that every time I needed something.
The Go train was like that too. I stepped aboard expecting to be gazing out the window the entire time, watching all the old scenery go by, my heart warmed by the familiarity of it all. (Seriously, I'm a cheese ball for 'the way things used to be.') But I may as well have done it every day that week, because I found myself uninterested, and spent the whole time beading, barely glancing at the window.
Oakville was where things were different. I was looking forward to riding a bus around again, but we were picked up in a car by a friend and her new (to me) boyfriend. We went back to her apartment in a building we had never been in and hung out for a while with a cat we'd never met. We then went to visit our other friends in their new house in a part of town I'd never really spent any time in. The stores we visited were new, we went out to a new place, even the taxi cab we rode in was different, with some new-fangled, computerized fare meter instead of the old red, digital clock-looking one.
Throughout this whole trip, I kept catching glimpses of my old Oakville world; a restaurant here, a bank there, the very top of the building we used to live in peeking over the wall as we passed it on the highway. But everything I saw was from a slightly different angle, a new perspective; it was as if I was viewing everything from a dream or like it was an exhibit at a museum. I could see it, but at a distance, I couldn't touch it or experience it the way it used to be.
Back in Toronto the following day, it was much as it had been the day before. I felt like a natural and completely ordinary part of my surroundings once again. And one thing that may seem contradictory to that statement had also not changed; I still can't stand the crowds. The mall, the streets, every place we wandered in an attempt to pass time while waiting for our bus was absolutely packed and busy. Sometimes I'm oblivious to it, sometimes I'm not. And when I'm feeling particulary tired, as I was, and a little ill, like I had since Friday, it's hard to deal with. That was one thing I hadn't expected, to be so glad to finally take a seat on the Northlander home.
Now I don't want to make my trip seem like a disappointment, because it certainly wasn't. The only thing I regret was not being able to meet up with a few good friends of mine there. But everything else was nice. It was cool being able to see Jen in her new apartment, which is an absolute dream, let me say. The view was wonderful, the cat was great, her boyfriend seems like a real sweetheart. I liked hanging out with Simon and Shane as well. That new house is great too and I had a genuinely good time. It was nice to see the city and buy everything I needed and remind myself of all the awesome supplies available to me there. And it was really nice to have a quiet morning walk with Seguin around our old town, even if it was completely different, something about it did feel the same.
What made it so strange, I suppose, was not the absence of emotions I'd expected to have, but instead the presence of ones I didn't expect to have. I was surprised by how instantly at home I felt in Simon's new house, by how nice I felt about Jen's new man. I was warmed by the feelings of home and contentment I got from and with Seguin, walking around and having an unexpected talk about Christmas. I was taken aback by how much I missed little Penelope.
But most of all, when the trip was over, I was caught off guard by how relieved I was to be back in Huntsville again. The instant I stepped off the bus, I was so completely grateful for the cold, clean air, the empty road, the space, the dark, the snow, the quiet. That's not to say that I no longer like the city; I'm still eager for the next time I visit. But having felt so torn between two places for the last year or so, I fully expected this trip to trigger a desire to move back. So I was completely surprised by its having the opposite effect, providing me instead with a sense of closure and contentment. Another era of my life has ended and the parts that remain have taken their places in my life. And another era has begun.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
I Must Be Pretty Tired
I'm a bit delirious with the tired hypers right now, so I may not find this site to be quite so funny tomorrow morning.
But I hope I do.
http://quotation-marks.blogspot.com/
But I hope I do.
http://quotation-marks.blogspot.com/
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Some Lovely Things from the Last Few Days
First of all, LOOK!!! Poor Seg and John had to leave for work at ten to seven this morning to get this all cleared out of the way for people's feet and cars. I'll have to leave for work 15 minutes early so as not to be late (snow slows me down) but otherwise I think it's beautiful.
I love when cats and humans pose the same. It's one of the best things. Just like this old favourite.
My favourite little family came over last night for Rockband and Scattergories. It was good fun, and really nice as one of the things I like doing most in the apartment is having friends over. Takes it from a house to a home.
Speaking of families, Loki is the sweetest adopted dad I've ever seen.
A friend of mine has me creating a set of wrist pieces as a gift for someone. It's beading, beading, beading. It's been a while since I've done any proper beading, but I'm getting the feel for it again. After I go back and fill in the gaps, I think it will look pretty nice. I'll post the finished pieces as soon as I'm able.
Christmas is coming. This year it's gotten into my head and won't get out. I'm not even bothered by the way all the stores are decorated up already and how you can already hear Xmas carols playing. (Normally that drives me nuts--oversaturation!) But I'm pretty stoked.
That's all. Off to make rotini and bracelets!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
November Morning Thoughts
Winter is pretty much on its way. It's barely, barely snowing; in fact, it's supposed to get up to 11 degrees this weekend or something like that. (When you work in lottery, everyone tells you the weather.) But it's on its way as far as I am concerned. Here are the signs.
1. There is snow on the ground right now. And on people's cars and falling from the sky ever so lightly. It's not much and it won't stay, but the transition has begun.
2. It's dark by 5:30. Completely dark. In grade 6, my brother Eli and I would always watch the Simpsons after school. By the time it was over at 5:30, it was always pitch black out. And that's winter.
3. On Sunday, I made chicken soup and biscuits from scratch. It was delicious, but more importantly, I'm getting the urge for hot, savoury things like soup and hot chocolate and chili more often. Even Fiona's mention of roasting a chicken made me think, 'Mmm. Cozy."
4. I'm not biking to work any more. =(
5. I bought a winter coat. First new one I've had in a while. It's cranberry red and double breasted and falls to mid thigh. I'm excited to have some colour in my winter gear for once.
6. I'm extremely stoked for Xmas. I've been buying people's gifts early this year and everywhere I go I'm thinking of what to do/make/get for people. It's fun, and it's making me very excited for Xmas.
7. I want to be out walking pretty much all the time. In scarves and hats and mittens all rosy cheeked. In the woods especially.
8. Barb is calling on me to make some stuff for the sale up North. Fun!
9. Clementines are showing up in the stores in wooden boxes. Yummy!
10. The light is different. No more bright yellow sun, now it's pale and quiet and almost pure white. Very clean and Wintery.
As Winter's been approaching, I've been thinking of a post I wrote a while ago about the smells of the seasons and how winter doesn't really have any. My friend Devon responded to my note, suggesting that perhaps all of Winter's smells are indoor smells, like hot apple cider and soup simmering on the stove. The more I think it over, the more I've decided she's correct. With the exception of cool, icy pine and that crisp, clean, cold nothing smell of outdoors in Winter, all the Winter smells are indoor smells.
Like she said, soup and cider definitely. The cider smell also makes me think of how my father used to put cinammon sticks and cloves in a pot of water and set it to boil on the woodstove. Mmmmm.
Clementines are distinctly Winter to me. That first potent burst of scent when you break open the rind is very Christmasy. So distinct as well....the other day Eli had a clementine (unbeknownst to me) and then handled the kitten. When I took her back from him, I knew he'd eaten one as I could smell it on her fur.
Wood smoke is a good one. Also that earthy smell firewood gets after you bring it inside and all the snow and ice start to melt off.
Scotch tape is Christmasy (and therefore Wintery) to me as well. When I was younger, the only time I really remember encountering scotch tape was opening gifts on Xmas morning. So the combined smell of scotch tape and wrapping paper does it for sure. Now when I wrap the gifts as well as when I open them.
These are all the smells I can think of for now. Perhaps more will come back to me as Winter progresses. Or maybe you have some of your own you'd like to share?? Please, comment!
1. There is snow on the ground right now. And on people's cars and falling from the sky ever so lightly. It's not much and it won't stay, but the transition has begun.
2. It's dark by 5:30. Completely dark. In grade 6, my brother Eli and I would always watch the Simpsons after school. By the time it was over at 5:30, it was always pitch black out. And that's winter.
3. On Sunday, I made chicken soup and biscuits from scratch. It was delicious, but more importantly, I'm getting the urge for hot, savoury things like soup and hot chocolate and chili more often. Even Fiona's mention of roasting a chicken made me think, 'Mmm. Cozy."
4. I'm not biking to work any more. =(
5. I bought a winter coat. First new one I've had in a while. It's cranberry red and double breasted and falls to mid thigh. I'm excited to have some colour in my winter gear for once.
6. I'm extremely stoked for Xmas. I've been buying people's gifts early this year and everywhere I go I'm thinking of what to do/make/get for people. It's fun, and it's making me very excited for Xmas.
7. I want to be out walking pretty much all the time. In scarves and hats and mittens all rosy cheeked. In the woods especially.
8. Barb is calling on me to make some stuff for the sale up North. Fun!
9. Clementines are showing up in the stores in wooden boxes. Yummy!
10. The light is different. No more bright yellow sun, now it's pale and quiet and almost pure white. Very clean and Wintery.
As Winter's been approaching, I've been thinking of a post I wrote a while ago about the smells of the seasons and how winter doesn't really have any. My friend Devon responded to my note, suggesting that perhaps all of Winter's smells are indoor smells, like hot apple cider and soup simmering on the stove. The more I think it over, the more I've decided she's correct. With the exception of cool, icy pine and that crisp, clean, cold nothing smell of outdoors in Winter, all the Winter smells are indoor smells.
Like she said, soup and cider definitely. The cider smell also makes me think of how my father used to put cinammon sticks and cloves in a pot of water and set it to boil on the woodstove. Mmmmm.
Clementines are distinctly Winter to me. That first potent burst of scent when you break open the rind is very Christmasy. So distinct as well....the other day Eli had a clementine (unbeknownst to me) and then handled the kitten. When I took her back from him, I knew he'd eaten one as I could smell it on her fur.
Wood smoke is a good one. Also that earthy smell firewood gets after you bring it inside and all the snow and ice start to melt off.
Scotch tape is Christmasy (and therefore Wintery) to me as well. When I was younger, the only time I really remember encountering scotch tape was opening gifts on Xmas morning. So the combined smell of scotch tape and wrapping paper does it for sure. Now when I wrap the gifts as well as when I open them.
These are all the smells I can think of for now. Perhaps more will come back to me as Winter progresses. Or maybe you have some of your own you'd like to share?? Please, comment!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Feeling Pretty Stoked
Yowza. Just came from downtown. It's funny.....just when it seems I'm starting to run out of stimulation, when I think I'm not getting what I need from this place anymore, I go downtown and recieve so much good stuff that I feel completely the opposite. It's awfully nice.
I was speaking with a gallery about possibly displaying/selling some of my work (went pretty well I think, fingers crossed!). When I came out, I was feeling completely abuzz with excess energy. I'd been really nervous beforehand. I didn't feel entirely ready to present my work, but I knew I would never feel completely ready, and it was getting me down a bit. That lack of confidence can really make one question the validity of what they're doing. But I had a really nice talk beforehand with a woman here in town who's acting as a driving force behind my career and she gave me a lot of motivation and inspiration that I needed. The positive feedback and general exposure to other artsy folks in the gallery helped me touch base with that side of myself a little bit, reminded me that an awesome arts community does exist here. A nice phone call to my mother and genuine conversations I had with two people I ran into on the street afterwards (a casual aquaintance and a best friend) really served to remind me of the other big reason I am still in this town; the people and how great they make me feel.
Yeah. Sometimes if I get too stuck inside routine, work, the house or myself, it's easy to forget why I've chosen to live in the place I do and in the way I do at this point in my life. It's awfully nice to be reminded of why this works, where it's leading, why I'm here.
=)
I was speaking with a gallery about possibly displaying/selling some of my work (went pretty well I think, fingers crossed!). When I came out, I was feeling completely abuzz with excess energy. I'd been really nervous beforehand. I didn't feel entirely ready to present my work, but I knew I would never feel completely ready, and it was getting me down a bit. That lack of confidence can really make one question the validity of what they're doing. But I had a really nice talk beforehand with a woman here in town who's acting as a driving force behind my career and she gave me a lot of motivation and inspiration that I needed. The positive feedback and general exposure to other artsy folks in the gallery helped me touch base with that side of myself a little bit, reminded me that an awesome arts community does exist here. A nice phone call to my mother and genuine conversations I had with two people I ran into on the street afterwards (a casual aquaintance and a best friend) really served to remind me of the other big reason I am still in this town; the people and how great they make me feel.
Yeah. Sometimes if I get too stuck inside routine, work, the house or myself, it's easy to forget why I've chosen to live in the place I do and in the way I do at this point in my life. It's awfully nice to be reminded of why this works, where it's leading, why I'm here.
=)
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Lovely November
I'm feeling pretty good today. I woke up to sun and fresh air and didn't even realize until several hours in that I had forgotten to set the clock back, and was therefore further ahead than I thought. I ade some telephone calls and wrote some e-mails, things that always make me feel productive and responsible even though they're such little accomplishments. (Probably has something to do with the fact that I am oddly scared of the phone. Calling anyone for business, work or even sometimes fun reasons makes me anxious...silly,huh?)
I've got so much work to do with this week on artistic pursuits. A project to finish for one person, two more to design for another. Some work of my own to finish off, as I finally feel ready to show some stores my finished pieces. Another personal project I'm absolutely itching to start. And two local women to speak with about moving forward in the textile world. How exciting to be making these contacts! I'm pretty stoked. And my week has been scheduled in just such a way that I ought to have plenty of time for all of it (famous last words). But still. Feeling good.
Hallowe'en was great. I finished my costume and was utterly pleased with it. Everyone else looked great too. We swung by my mother's place so she could see us all dressed up (just like being a kid again) and then went out to the Hideaway, the only party in town. It was a pretty good time, Seguin even won second place in the costume contest, I was the super-cheesy-proud girlfriend for sure.
It had been a long time since I had a costume idea I was as enthused about as this one, and it had been since grade 13 that I worked so hard on a costume. Now that I'm all finished with it, it goes in the closet, I suppose. My last handmade costume is still there, a white corseted fairy dress made of old sheer curtains. It's been out and used again several times since then, once by my friend Skye, once by Fiona, two or three times by me. I was talking to a woman at work the other day about keeping old costumes for reuse, and now that I'm adding Lydia's wedding dress to the stash, I realize I really like the idea of keeping them all, of building up my own personal costume wardrobe. What fun to have access to a whole variety of dress up possibilities; for Hallowe'en of course, and for lending to others, but for any sort of dress up party, for fun photo shoots, for videos and good times and crazy nights where you might just feel like dressing up. And think what a collection it would be if I did this every year!
Here's some pictures of the costumes. Enjoy!
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Two Movies, One Website
Tonight I ended up watching Beetlejuice with my roomies. Few things. For one, I do like a good Tim Burton movie, let me just say. Secondly, it's cool to know a movie I liked as a kid I still like now, though there's lots I appreciate about it now that I didn't then. Funny how some things you enjoy as a kind, you don't care much for as a grown up, but other things stick with you. Finally, I have to say I really love the visual style of the movie. I mean, there's the trademark Tim Burton things, the stripes, the crazy angles, the dead, dead, dead. But what I liked about this movie in particular was the looks Lydia and her step mother had going. Lydia had the goth thing, obviously, which I'll always love, but the step-mom had this look going that was trendy-artsy eighties with a slight gothic edge to it as well. Nothing I'd ever wear, but really fun to look at.
This reminds me of watching Penelope the other day; I really liked the look of that movie as well. The house was great, Penelope's room in particular, as it had to have all kinds of things to make up for the fact that she could never leave the house. I loved the trees and the Autumn leaves and all the cold weather wear. The city was neat, both modern and quaint at once. The scenes where she sees the world for the first time are beautiful and magical to look at. And I absolutely loved Penelope's look. Modern, but a bit old fashioned at the same time, all skirts and heels and tights, but without coming across as too uptight and done. Mostly classic, simple shapes, but colourful and cutesy and different without being at all over the top. Love it, love it, love it. And that James McAvoy guy was all right too. ;)
Anyway, here's one more thing just because I feel like adding it. It's a link to a website I heard about on CBC yesterday, pretty fun if you enjoy sneaking little glimpses into other people's lives. Have fun!
http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/
This reminds me of watching Penelope the other day; I really liked the look of that movie as well. The house was great, Penelope's room in particular, as it had to have all kinds of things to make up for the fact that she could never leave the house. I loved the trees and the Autumn leaves and all the cold weather wear. The city was neat, both modern and quaint at once. The scenes where she sees the world for the first time are beautiful and magical to look at. And I absolutely loved Penelope's look. Modern, but a bit old fashioned at the same time, all skirts and heels and tights, but without coming across as too uptight and done. Mostly classic, simple shapes, but colourful and cutesy and different without being at all over the top. Love it, love it, love it. And that James McAvoy guy was all right too. ;)
Anyway, here's one more thing just because I feel like adding it. It's a link to a website I heard about on CBC yesterday, pretty fun if you enjoy sneaking little glimpses into other people's lives. Have fun!
http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/
Friday, October 24, 2008
October 24
Today is the day Seguin bought me a GINORMOUS choclate bar. It actually weighs one kilogram. It's my favourite type of chocolate too.
What a sweetheart. =)
What a sweetheart. =)
Meet the Cats
This post is for you, Meghan, to catch up on the kitties in my life. ;)
Magic is Skye's kitty. She's teeny tiny and black in colour and is about 10 years old. She has the funniest scratchy little meow and will often hop from surface to surface following you about in a quest for pets, but gets peeved if you pick her up.
Penelope is the newest member of the family. Her full name is Doctor Penelope, sometimes known as Penny or Squeaker or The Kitten. She was a member of the last litter of the Grandview straw Delta, who was mercifully taken to live in the observatory just recently. We'll have had her two weeks this Sunday, but she's made herself very much at home.
First of all, we have Loki. You know who he is, Meghan, but for those who don't and might be interested, here ya go.
Inherited from our former roomies in Oakville, he's been a part of the family for about two years. He started out as a pretty crazy guy, high energy, high strung, loud and heavy on personality. He's quieted down a fair amount now, and even seems rather grown up now that we have the kitten, but he's still a pretty unique guy. He's also rather large. I never truly appreciated what a big cat he is until we got Penelope, but after cuddling her, he seems big and muscular and heavy by comparison. He really isn't the skinny ninja he used to be.
On the other hand, he's still pretty dynamic. He can wrestle and chase with the best of them and is teaching Penelope all the moves. He'll carry on a conversation, he loves to lick faces with his sandpaper tongue, and he likes to sleep on the computer chair at night. If Seguin stays up late playing games when Loki wants to go to sleep, he's not shy about stealing the chair the second Seguin gets up for a drink. He also loves hugs.
Magic is Skye's kitty. She's teeny tiny and black in colour and is about 10 years old. She has the funniest scratchy little meow and will often hop from surface to surface following you about in a quest for pets, but gets peeved if you pick her up.She gets along okay with Loki and tolerates the kitten. Her favourite person is definitely Skye, but she will show up looking for company if Skye is not around. She eats lots of strange things, or example, she prefers tuna with mayonaisse to tuna juice from the can, but her favourite treats are moochies. Toss one down the hall and she tears after it like it's the last morsel in existence, pouncing on it with a mad efficiency. It's pretty cool to watch.
I think she feels pretty comfortable living here even though she pretends to hate the other cats. A few months ago, she licked all the fur off her back end. It's was strange looking, bald and skinny; Skye and roomie at the time called her Sir Patchy Bottom. Since she's been here, however, she's allowed it all to grow back, and she has a normal cat bottom again. I think that must be a good thing.
Penelope is the newest member of the family. Her full name is Doctor Penelope, sometimes known as Penny or Squeaker or The Kitten. She was a member of the last litter of the Grandview straw Delta, who was mercifully taken to live in the observatory just recently. We'll have had her two weeks this Sunday, but she's made herself very much at home.Her favourite playmate is Loki; they chase and they love to wrestle. Sometimes if he's not interested in play, she'll just lay there and look at him. He takes care of her, attempting to bathe her and burying her messes in the litter box (as she's not yet figured out how to do it herself).
When Loki is not around, she's happy to play with the mouse or the bee or the ball. She'll play with feet, she'll climb legs, she'll attack your arm, she'll relentlessly chase her own tail. She spends all her waking moments in full-on play mode, attacking, pouncing, jumping. When she finally tires, she'll lounge a bit, fall asleep, wake up, and after a bite to eat (sitting completely inside the cat dish like a child's ball bin) she'll start playing all over again. She is in hardcore training for ninja catdom.
Though they're incredibly independent and need less companionship from us than other kinds of pets, cats still appreciate friends more than one would think. I know our cats love us the way we love them, so it always makes me feel better to know they've got company when we leave the house to do our human stuff. One cat is always fantastic, but another one or two seems to make things more complete. =)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Loki meets Dr. Penelope
Loki has been having a difficult time with the new kitten, Penelope. (That's Doctor Penelope to you. She has a phd in cute.) At first he was wary and a little bit jealous of the fluffy new presence, hissing, growling and generally keeping his distance. But watching them now, on day four, I can see the tide is turning, and know it won't be long now before I feel comfortable leaving them in the same room alone together.
She's become relaxed enough around him to jump and play and dart about without worry. He's been watching her do this all morning. And now it seems he's trying to get in on the act. It's a little awkward. Loki plays with Magic (Skye's kitty) by suddenly jumping out in front of her and then tearing off in the opposite direction in a bid to have her chase him. Problem is, Penelope's so tiny and unused to play with larger cats that Loki's attempts at play are probably a bit terrifying. All the same, he is trying and I think that is a good sign.
I think Loki will agree with me soon that kittens are pretty great.
She's become relaxed enough around him to jump and play and dart about without worry. He's been watching her do this all morning. And now it seems he's trying to get in on the act. It's a little awkward. Loki plays with Magic (Skye's kitty) by suddenly jumping out in front of her and then tearing off in the opposite direction in a bid to have her chase him. Problem is, Penelope's so tiny and unused to play with larger cats that Loki's attempts at play are probably a bit terrifying. All the same, he is trying and I think that is a good sign.
I think Loki will agree with me soon that kittens are pretty great.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
October 12th Part 2
Holy kittens! Today is also the day I was featured on the front page of etsy!
http://flickr.com/photos/getglassy/2936358074/in/pool-etsyfrontpagers
http://flickr.com/photos/getglassy/2936358074/in/pool-etsyfrontpagers
On the Evening Air
There are a many different things that make summer really 'Summer.' And Autumn 'Autumn' and Spring 'Spring.' But biking home today, I decided there is one way in which I really prefer all of them to winter.
Now I'm a multi-season girl. Any time of year, you'll find me content with the seasonal state of my surroundings. Spring is so fresh and sunny and exciting; when I was in public school, I loved that first warm day when everyone could go outside in snow pants and sweatshirts (no need for your coat) and run around on sun dried pavement and make wet snowballs out of slowly melting snow. Summer is great because of how beautiful everything is pretty much all of the time. The nights are warm and the swimming's good and I want to be outdoors every second I can. Autumn leaves me feeling even more invigorated than Spring. Maybe it's that the back-to-school feeling never goes away, but the bright colours and the clear skies and the crips air seem so fresh and alive. And Winter makes me happy too. As I feel it approaching, I look forward to nights spent cozy indoors while the snow flies outside the window. I love skiing and building forts and getting all dressed up in scarves and hats and getting rosy cheeks from the cold. And maybe it's just me, but I feel like the stars are brighter and the sky is bigger during the winter.
The one thing I've really come to appreciate about the other three seasons, however, I never really noticed until these past few months. Early morning and twilight were common times for me to be travelling to or from work, and it seems those times are when the smells in the air are the most noticeable. I'd just never really noticed before what a variance of sensations the evening air can carry to me as I speed along on my bike. Tonight was especially nice. Rotting leaves, a smell like dry hay, dusty gravel, wood fires, moist earth, all sorts of plant smells, spicy and pungent and fresh. They all blend together in a very harmonious way, changing so subtley that with each inhalation I'm aware of the scent having changed, but I can't quite remember what was different about it before.
Each season brings its own potpourri; Spring has that earthy smell of mud and thawing earth, Summer has daisies and freshly sweet grass and lake water, Autumn has dry hay and that leafy smell of decay. I shouldn't say that Winter has nothing. There is that distinctive smell of cold, fresh, clearness that comes with a crips Winter's night. There's also the smell of icy pine and moist firewood. But it seems to me that winter doesn't provide quite the 'glad to be alive' variety of sensations that the rest of the seasons do.
Could be I'm wrong. Like I said, I never noticed these things until just the last few months. Perhaps I haven't given winter a proper chance, and over the next few months, as I walk to work in the snow, I'll discover a whole variety of treats for the nose I'd never been aware of before. But in the meantime, I just want to send a shout out to Mother Nature in appreciation all the varieties of evening air I've enjoyed this year. Enjoy them while they last.
Now I'm a multi-season girl. Any time of year, you'll find me content with the seasonal state of my surroundings. Spring is so fresh and sunny and exciting; when I was in public school, I loved that first warm day when everyone could go outside in snow pants and sweatshirts (no need for your coat) and run around on sun dried pavement and make wet snowballs out of slowly melting snow. Summer is great because of how beautiful everything is pretty much all of the time. The nights are warm and the swimming's good and I want to be outdoors every second I can. Autumn leaves me feeling even more invigorated than Spring. Maybe it's that the back-to-school feeling never goes away, but the bright colours and the clear skies and the crips air seem so fresh and alive. And Winter makes me happy too. As I feel it approaching, I look forward to nights spent cozy indoors while the snow flies outside the window. I love skiing and building forts and getting all dressed up in scarves and hats and getting rosy cheeks from the cold. And maybe it's just me, but I feel like the stars are brighter and the sky is bigger during the winter.
The one thing I've really come to appreciate about the other three seasons, however, I never really noticed until these past few months. Early morning and twilight were common times for me to be travelling to or from work, and it seems those times are when the smells in the air are the most noticeable. I'd just never really noticed before what a variance of sensations the evening air can carry to me as I speed along on my bike. Tonight was especially nice. Rotting leaves, a smell like dry hay, dusty gravel, wood fires, moist earth, all sorts of plant smells, spicy and pungent and fresh. They all blend together in a very harmonious way, changing so subtley that with each inhalation I'm aware of the scent having changed, but I can't quite remember what was different about it before.
Each season brings its own potpourri; Spring has that earthy smell of mud and thawing earth, Summer has daisies and freshly sweet grass and lake water, Autumn has dry hay and that leafy smell of decay. I shouldn't say that Winter has nothing. There is that distinctive smell of cold, fresh, clearness that comes with a crips Winter's night. There's also the smell of icy pine and moist firewood. But it seems to me that winter doesn't provide quite the 'glad to be alive' variety of sensations that the rest of the seasons do.
Could be I'm wrong. Like I said, I never noticed these things until just the last few months. Perhaps I haven't given winter a proper chance, and over the next few months, as I walk to work in the snow, I'll discover a whole variety of treats for the nose I'd never been aware of before. But in the meantime, I just want to send a shout out to Mother Nature in appreciation all the varieties of evening air I've enjoyed this year. Enjoy them while they last.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
October 9th
Today is the day I saw Mom and Roger in the grocery store and thought about how I've reached that point in my life where I can live in the same town as my mother and run into her out and about without seeing her at home.
Today is also the day I saw Angie in the grocery store and missed her a lot.
Today is also the day I saw Angie in the grocery store and missed her a lot.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
October 8th
Today's the day I helped a man in customer service who sounded just like the cowboy from The Big Lebowski.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Smoke, Baby
This is just a shout out to my brother's cat Smokey. I still see him every two or three weeks, but I used to see him every day, so I miss him a lot. He is a big lug and very soft and when he's feeling affectionate, he's wonderful to cuddle with. And he has a great meow.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Pics
Here are some of my favourite pictures from the last little while.
Some of them are quite blurry....I've had this obsession with blurring out certain photos lately. I think it has something to do with the emphasis it places on the colours.
Some of them are quite blurry....I've had this obsession with blurring out certain photos lately. I think it has something to do with the emphasis it places on the colours.
October 5
Today's the day I finally took a walk down the dead end street near West Road Convenience. The houses were small and nice and reminded me of my Aunt Deedee's. It was chilly and there were Autumn leaves everywhere and there was a cat curled up on someone's porch chair.
There's a big empty lot at the end of the street, down by the river. I wonder what they're going to build there.
There's a big empty lot at the end of the street, down by the river. I wonder what they're going to build there.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
October 2nd
Today's the day I had my first proper guests since I got this apartment.
They brought cookies. =)
They brought cookies. =)
Too Much!!!
Sometimes I feel like the creative urge is both a blessing and a curse. This usually happens at times when I feel so full of thoughtful energy and inspiration, I just don't know where to direct my focus. There's just so many great things I could be doing. There's things I want to paint and things I want to journal and things I want to write. Photos I want to take and then a million different things I want to do with them.....stitch them and collage them and use them to tell stories. There are things I want to sew and manipulate and create and build, sometimes the ideas come so quickly I have to stop and draw them all before I forget, and even then I know I won't actually pursue even half.
There are just too many inspiring things....photos that are so aesthetically appealing I want to duplicate them or add into them and draw attention to them. Others just give me some sort of feeling that I want to capture and communicate somehow. There are techniques I want to explore, to see what I can do with them, what I else I can come up with. Even certain materials just beg to be used, their colours, their textures so tempting I feel like I just have to do something with them.
The problem is, how's a girl to find time for all of it? Even if I didn't have to cook and eat and earn a little moolah and clean up once in a while, there wouldn't be the time. Even if I completely shut out my friends and family and the beautiful world and refused to leave the house, it couldn't be done. (And then, I think the inspiration would go as well. How can one continue to spew colourful life without taking any in to begin with?) This is where the curse part of it comes in; having this ocean of inspiration and so many ideas, and barely being to dip in a toe.
Even if I did, someday, work out a life for myself where I could pursue my artistic endeavours to my heart's content, can someone as unfocused as myself ever really become successful?? Would I be able to develop anything to the extent I would like if I have so many other ideas? Does that 'jack of all trades, master of none' concept apply here??
How does one decide what to master? Do they have to?
There are just too many inspiring things....photos that are so aesthetically appealing I want to duplicate them or add into them and draw attention to them. Others just give me some sort of feeling that I want to capture and communicate somehow. There are techniques I want to explore, to see what I can do with them, what I else I can come up with. Even certain materials just beg to be used, their colours, their textures so tempting I feel like I just have to do something with them.
The problem is, how's a girl to find time for all of it? Even if I didn't have to cook and eat and earn a little moolah and clean up once in a while, there wouldn't be the time. Even if I completely shut out my friends and family and the beautiful world and refused to leave the house, it couldn't be done. (And then, I think the inspiration would go as well. How can one continue to spew colourful life without taking any in to begin with?) This is where the curse part of it comes in; having this ocean of inspiration and so many ideas, and barely being to dip in a toe.
Even if I did, someday, work out a life for myself where I could pursue my artistic endeavours to my heart's content, can someone as unfocused as myself ever really become successful?? Would I be able to develop anything to the extent I would like if I have so many other ideas? Does that 'jack of all trades, master of none' concept apply here??
How does one decide what to master? Do they have to?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
October 1st
Today is the day I had my first real bank appointment to discuss my finances and my future.
It felt pretty grown up and empowering.
It felt pretty grown up and empowering.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
A New Feature
I'm sure all you other bloggers have noticed that while some days inspire reflection and sharing and are worth recording, there are many others that don't. However, it seems there's bound to be at least one moment in every day that is for some reason memorable and is worth noting despite the nature of the rest of it. Something that stands out, something that you'll think back to, weeks or even years later, when you no longer remember anything else that may have happened that given day. Wouldn't it be cute, I thought, to go on picking that moment out of every day I have, and noting it somewhere; on a calendar, in a notebook, on my blog. Keep track, sort of. So even when a few years have passed and the day to day of 2008 has long since slipped from my memory, I'll have a tiny memorium of each day I lived.
So that's what I'm going to do. I aim to do it every day, here on my blog. The moment I choose could be anything. It could be huge and significant, or small and passing. It could be good, bad, or anywhere in between. It could be 'Today's the day I gave that nice tourist couple directions to the bingo hall,' or 'Today's the day I crashed my bike coming home.' Or my favourite so far, 'Today's the day I accidently kicked that guy's case of beer in the sushi restaurant.' It could be anything. But with a whole year's worth of new days coming up in just a few short months, I'm quite eager to see what they're all going to be. I hope you guys enjoy them too.
September 30, 2008.
Today's the day I learned to do an invisible hem on the boy's new suits (and cut a big hole in Seguin's).
Ooops.
So that's what I'm going to do. I aim to do it every day, here on my blog. The moment I choose could be anything. It could be huge and significant, or small and passing. It could be good, bad, or anywhere in between. It could be 'Today's the day I gave that nice tourist couple directions to the bingo hall,' or 'Today's the day I crashed my bike coming home.' Or my favourite so far, 'Today's the day I accidently kicked that guy's case of beer in the sushi restaurant.' It could be anything. But with a whole year's worth of new days coming up in just a few short months, I'm quite eager to see what they're all going to be. I hope you guys enjoy them too.
September 30, 2008.
Today's the day I learned to do an invisible hem on the boy's new suits (and cut a big hole in Seguin's).
Ooops.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Megan and Thomas and ????
My best friend had a baby a little while ago. There are three of them now, her and her husband Phil and little Thomas making up a cute little family. And I'm Auntie Mir.
Thomas is great. It's been thrilling watching him grow. With all I've missed while I was off experiencing other things, I'm so grateful just to be here to see it. And Megan is a beautiful mother. There aren't many I've seen who seem as naturally taken to motherhood as she.
They're having another one. I couldn't be more stoked.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
A Personal History of Radio
Back in the day (aka grade 8) my main source of audio entertainment was the radio. I first started out just listening to the local station while I spent time in my room by myself, cleaning, making things, whatever. It was friendly, it was reliable, and I didn't have to think about what I was in the mood for listening to. I just turned it on and there it was, and I could enjoy some tunes while putting my main focus on whatever I was doing at the time.
Somewhere around grade nine or ten, I discovered a call in program that came on in the evening and ran into the night. The music was varied and I even called in myself once or twice, something I hadn't done since I was in grade school and called More FM to tell Santa what I wanted for Christmas. Something else I started doing around this time was to tape songs (that's right, TAPE) off this program. That left me with a whole box full of Maxell tapes filled with songs that have the beginning cut off or spoken over, and the occaisonal run of commercials from when I forgot to shut the recorder off at the end of a song. But at least I had something good to put in my walkman.
Towards the end of grade 10, my best friend gave me her old CD player, as she was getting a new one. A stereo all my own! Around this time, I was seriously starting to get into some of the bands I was hearing on the radio and I started buying CDs. I listened to my CDs a lot, on my way to and from school, all evening while I hung out in my room, while I did my homework, art, etc. But I still had a serious relationship with the radio. In the morning, I listened to the Deejays on the Edge. I loved them. They played good music and they were hilarous. I even won concert tickets from them once.
I would also listen to the radio at night sometimes if I was staying up really, really late (all night) to finish an art project. When I stay awake late, CDs are good up to a certain point, but eventually, the empty silence between one CD finishing and another being put on just makes me feel lonely and a little creeped out. At this point, it's nice to have the radio playing, as it helps me to feel I'm not the only one still awake out there.
My favourite grade 11 radio time, however, was when I would go to my father's house for the weekend. At this point in my life, I was heavily into writing in journals. And I must admit, I was also seriously lovesick. So when I finished writing about whatever else was on my mind, I would write about a boy. Friday and Saturday nights, I would stay up very late in my little bunk with curtains around it, writing by candlelight, listening to the radio. The particular station I listened to played some sort of soft rock (the complete opposite of what I listened to on CDs at the time) and it played a lot of sappy songs. Even when I was finished writing, I would often stay awake, listening to 'just one more song,' waiting for one that would leave me with a lovely gooey feeling to finally fall asleep to.
After that, the radio pretty much left my life for a while, short of waking up to it every morning (I can't stand a traditional alarm) and listening to CBC Radio 3 online with Fiona when we were staying all night at the textile studio.
How I finally came across Coast to Coast, I really can't remember. I think I heard it once before, late at night in the textile studio, but at the time, I had no idea what it was. Just some wacky program featuring this lady who claimed to have grown up with the man who killed John Lennon, and how he was filled with demons and that's why he did it. I didn't recognize it for what it was until months later. Seg and I were laying in bed listening to a random AM radio show. The host was taking all these calls from people who had crazy stories about ghosts and aliens and the supernatural. It had bumper music between segments, where they would play about half of some song and then lead into the program. Other times, they would play the show's theme music for about a minute, then say we'll be right back, then a clap of thunder, and back to commercials. When the show finally ended around three in the morning, they played a strange song some guy named UFO Phil had written for the show; the lyrics were hilarous, it was so bad it was good. It was odd and quirky and very funny, and we were hooked.
We listened to Coast to Coast every night for the rest of our final months in Oakville, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for an hour or more. It played all night; one morning I had to get up really early for a gallery show and the Coast to Coast theme music was what was playing when my alarm went off. It was horrible. It was still dark out and my bedtime show was playing...it was all wrong!! Now that we're back home and can't quite get reception for the show, it's one of the things I miss most about our times down South. I could listen to it on the computer, I suppose, and sometimes I do, but it's just not quite the same as rolling over, almost asleep, to finally shut it off for the night.
For about a year now, I'd been without regular radio in my life. Working during the day, I would listen to CDs or nothing at all. I'm not sure what possessed me to turn the radio on to CBC 1 about a month ago now, but I did, and once again I'm hooked. Every day now, my routine involves the radio at one point or another. I'm becoming familiar with the Deejays, the programs, the features. I like hearing the news. The discussions are intriguing. I think this sort of radio has made a nice change from CDs for me because it's somewhat more engaging. While a CD is often times still nice for the afternoon, in the morning it's good to tune into the world around me, to find out what's going on beyond my four walls. It helps me feel connected even when I don't have time to leave the house. And while it's sometimes so easy to bock out the music I've listened to a thousand times, the radio keeps me guessing, thinking, wondering, anticipating, a welcome accompaniment to what can sometimes be tedious work.
What's best though, is the balance radio offers between this sort of stimulation and a certain familiarity. When I was in grade 5, my brother would listen to Back to Bible every night as he fell asleep. I could never hear the show itself, but I could just make out the theme music faintly sounding from his room across the hall. It eventually became a source of comfort to me, safe and cozy and familiar. The Coast to Coast music brings me right back to my bedroom in Oakville, lying in bed in the dark, the sound of our roommates, the green glow of the clock radio. The one o'clock time signal that CBC sounds each day makes me think of my Gramma's house where I would always hear it from up in the loft, reading a book or petting a cat, while she puttered about down in the kitchen. I think perhaps some of the reason I've gone back to radio now is the reguarlity if offers. In this new part of my life, where most days are self structured and I'm trying to establish a responsible routine, it's nice to have something familar to tell me what time it is. I don't mean one o'clock, midnight or three in the afternoon, but breakfast time, break time, sewing time, organizing time.
Anyone else have a history with the radio? I'm sure I'm not the only one. Maybe it's just the interactive nature of the CBC getting to me, but I'd love some feedback. Talk to me, friends.
Mir
Somewhere around grade nine or ten, I discovered a call in program that came on in the evening and ran into the night. The music was varied and I even called in myself once or twice, something I hadn't done since I was in grade school and called More FM to tell Santa what I wanted for Christmas. Something else I started doing around this time was to tape songs (that's right, TAPE) off this program. That left me with a whole box full of Maxell tapes filled with songs that have the beginning cut off or spoken over, and the occaisonal run of commercials from when I forgot to shut the recorder off at the end of a song. But at least I had something good to put in my walkman.
Towards the end of grade 10, my best friend gave me her old CD player, as she was getting a new one. A stereo all my own! Around this time, I was seriously starting to get into some of the bands I was hearing on the radio and I started buying CDs. I listened to my CDs a lot, on my way to and from school, all evening while I hung out in my room, while I did my homework, art, etc. But I still had a serious relationship with the radio. In the morning, I listened to the Deejays on the Edge. I loved them. They played good music and they were hilarous. I even won concert tickets from them once.
I would also listen to the radio at night sometimes if I was staying up really, really late (all night) to finish an art project. When I stay awake late, CDs are good up to a certain point, but eventually, the empty silence between one CD finishing and another being put on just makes me feel lonely and a little creeped out. At this point, it's nice to have the radio playing, as it helps me to feel I'm not the only one still awake out there.
My favourite grade 11 radio time, however, was when I would go to my father's house for the weekend. At this point in my life, I was heavily into writing in journals. And I must admit, I was also seriously lovesick. So when I finished writing about whatever else was on my mind, I would write about a boy. Friday and Saturday nights, I would stay up very late in my little bunk with curtains around it, writing by candlelight, listening to the radio. The particular station I listened to played some sort of soft rock (the complete opposite of what I listened to on CDs at the time) and it played a lot of sappy songs. Even when I was finished writing, I would often stay awake, listening to 'just one more song,' waiting for one that would leave me with a lovely gooey feeling to finally fall asleep to.
After that, the radio pretty much left my life for a while, short of waking up to it every morning (I can't stand a traditional alarm) and listening to CBC Radio 3 online with Fiona when we were staying all night at the textile studio.
How I finally came across Coast to Coast, I really can't remember. I think I heard it once before, late at night in the textile studio, but at the time, I had no idea what it was. Just some wacky program featuring this lady who claimed to have grown up with the man who killed John Lennon, and how he was filled with demons and that's why he did it. I didn't recognize it for what it was until months later. Seg and I were laying in bed listening to a random AM radio show. The host was taking all these calls from people who had crazy stories about ghosts and aliens and the supernatural. It had bumper music between segments, where they would play about half of some song and then lead into the program. Other times, they would play the show's theme music for about a minute, then say we'll be right back, then a clap of thunder, and back to commercials. When the show finally ended around three in the morning, they played a strange song some guy named UFO Phil had written for the show; the lyrics were hilarous, it was so bad it was good. It was odd and quirky and very funny, and we were hooked.
We listened to Coast to Coast every night for the rest of our final months in Oakville, sometimes just for a few minutes, sometimes for an hour or more. It played all night; one morning I had to get up really early for a gallery show and the Coast to Coast theme music was what was playing when my alarm went off. It was horrible. It was still dark out and my bedtime show was playing...it was all wrong!! Now that we're back home and can't quite get reception for the show, it's one of the things I miss most about our times down South. I could listen to it on the computer, I suppose, and sometimes I do, but it's just not quite the same as rolling over, almost asleep, to finally shut it off for the night.
For about a year now, I'd been without regular radio in my life. Working during the day, I would listen to CDs or nothing at all. I'm not sure what possessed me to turn the radio on to CBC 1 about a month ago now, but I did, and once again I'm hooked. Every day now, my routine involves the radio at one point or another. I'm becoming familiar with the Deejays, the programs, the features. I like hearing the news. The discussions are intriguing. I think this sort of radio has made a nice change from CDs for me because it's somewhat more engaging. While a CD is often times still nice for the afternoon, in the morning it's good to tune into the world around me, to find out what's going on beyond my four walls. It helps me feel connected even when I don't have time to leave the house. And while it's sometimes so easy to bock out the music I've listened to a thousand times, the radio keeps me guessing, thinking, wondering, anticipating, a welcome accompaniment to what can sometimes be tedious work.
What's best though, is the balance radio offers between this sort of stimulation and a certain familiarity. When I was in grade 5, my brother would listen to Back to Bible every night as he fell asleep. I could never hear the show itself, but I could just make out the theme music faintly sounding from his room across the hall. It eventually became a source of comfort to me, safe and cozy and familiar. The Coast to Coast music brings me right back to my bedroom in Oakville, lying in bed in the dark, the sound of our roommates, the green glow of the clock radio. The one o'clock time signal that CBC sounds each day makes me think of my Gramma's house where I would always hear it from up in the loft, reading a book or petting a cat, while she puttered about down in the kitchen. I think perhaps some of the reason I've gone back to radio now is the reguarlity if offers. In this new part of my life, where most days are self structured and I'm trying to establish a responsible routine, it's nice to have something familar to tell me what time it is. I don't mean one o'clock, midnight or three in the afternoon, but breakfast time, break time, sewing time, organizing time.
Anyone else have a history with the radio? I'm sure I'm not the only one. Maybe it's just the interactive nature of the CBC getting to me, but I'd love some feedback. Talk to me, friends.
Mir
Friday, August 29, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Always always torn.
I think I am fated for the rest of my days to be leading a double life. Ever since my parents' divorce at the age of nine, I've been split between two homes, two families, two ways of life. In high school, it became two groups of friends who represented two different aspects of my personality. In college, it became my life when I was away and my life at home.
For a long time, I've had this dream, this yearning to find myself a little apartment here in Huntsville, to decorate it, to fill it with my books and music and art, and with the people I love, make it my home. I think a big part of that longing had to do with always feeling so torn between one life and another, and wanting to make one perfect place, a base to lay my heart down and let it take root. But for a long time now, I've been suspecting college has killed that dream for me.
I lived in the city for over three years. I made friends, developed routines, found favourite places, built memories. I made myself another life. My whole time there, part of me was longing to return to this life here. But now that I'm back, and I knew this would happen, a new part of me I grew while I was away longs for the life I led there. A life of back and forth is always how I've dealt with this sort of situation in the past. And technically speaking, it seems like a totally feasible solution. But having lived this way for as long as I have, I've come familiar with the flaws. The main one being this. Part of what makes a life a home is a commitment to it, I think. And when you spend half your time somewhere else, life there goes on without you. You miss things. Children grow, trees fall, people live and love and change. And each time you come back, as much as you feel you are coming home, you feel like an outsider as well, because of all you missed.
I suppose this is the life I'm fated to. Many people live this way, I'm hardly unique. And I suppose, with time, I'll get used to it. Here's hoping.
For a long time, I've had this dream, this yearning to find myself a little apartment here in Huntsville, to decorate it, to fill it with my books and music and art, and with the people I love, make it my home. I think a big part of that longing had to do with always feeling so torn between one life and another, and wanting to make one perfect place, a base to lay my heart down and let it take root. But for a long time now, I've been suspecting college has killed that dream for me.
I lived in the city for over three years. I made friends, developed routines, found favourite places, built memories. I made myself another life. My whole time there, part of me was longing to return to this life here. But now that I'm back, and I knew this would happen, a new part of me I grew while I was away longs for the life I led there. A life of back and forth is always how I've dealt with this sort of situation in the past. And technically speaking, it seems like a totally feasible solution. But having lived this way for as long as I have, I've come familiar with the flaws. The main one being this. Part of what makes a life a home is a commitment to it, I think. And when you spend half your time somewhere else, life there goes on without you. You miss things. Children grow, trees fall, people live and love and change. And each time you come back, as much as you feel you are coming home, you feel like an outsider as well, because of all you missed.
I suppose this is the life I'm fated to. Many people live this way, I'm hardly unique. And I suppose, with time, I'll get used to it. Here's hoping.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
First Day of School
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I was aware of was that it felt like fall. I was cozy under the blankets; the sky was grey and the light a little gloomy, and the air coming in the open window was cool and fresh and almost crisp. And there was something about it that smelled of Autumn. It wasn't that earthy, dead leaf rot smell you get when fall is in full swing, that's not here yet. What it was is too subtle to pick out exactly, but it made me feel the way I always felt on the first day of school. Like fresh paper and new beginnings and a mind still optimistic to the possibilities the year might offer.
And it was awfully nice too; lately, as summer draws to a close, I've been feeling my busy time for art ending. It's not that winter makes it harder for me to design and create. If anything, it's easier....I'm called into work less, I have fewer hours, I'm less tempted by the sunshine and flowers that live on the other side of the window glass. Friends don't want to go out swimming or eating ice cream or even dancing nearly so much, so I'm not tempted to join them. Instead, everyone hibernates a bit more, doing their own thing in the coziness of the house, and it's an atmosphere far more conducive to me actually getting work done.
I guess the change I was anticipating was more about the drive I've felt because of summer. So many people see summer as lazy days and good times, but here it's the busiest time of year. Work is busy, the streets are crowded, there are shows and events and plans going on nearly all the time. The hectic pace makes working seem that much more urgent, and as things slow down with fall approaching, I guess I was worried I might slow down too. But the air this morning told me different. As it does every year, that fresh start autumn smell has instead given me new motivation to get moving. The air is fresh, the sun is out, the day is early and stretched out before me. Time to go out and take some pictures.
~M
And it was awfully nice too; lately, as summer draws to a close, I've been feeling my busy time for art ending. It's not that winter makes it harder for me to design and create. If anything, it's easier....I'm called into work less, I have fewer hours, I'm less tempted by the sunshine and flowers that live on the other side of the window glass. Friends don't want to go out swimming or eating ice cream or even dancing nearly so much, so I'm not tempted to join them. Instead, everyone hibernates a bit more, doing their own thing in the coziness of the house, and it's an atmosphere far more conducive to me actually getting work done.
I guess the change I was anticipating was more about the drive I've felt because of summer. So many people see summer as lazy days and good times, but here it's the busiest time of year. Work is busy, the streets are crowded, there are shows and events and plans going on nearly all the time. The hectic pace makes working seem that much more urgent, and as things slow down with fall approaching, I guess I was worried I might slow down too. But the air this morning told me different. As it does every year, that fresh start autumn smell has instead given me new motivation to get moving. The air is fresh, the sun is out, the day is early and stretched out before me. Time to go out and take some pictures.
~M
Monday, August 11, 2008
No Time Like the Present
My pal Fiona has been bugging me to start a blog. I'd been thinking about it for awhile anyway, and as my internet presence grows, it seems like the obvious next step.
So here it is. A blog for Miranda Thomas. And Fiona. And everyone else too.
So here it is. A blog for Miranda Thomas. And Fiona. And everyone else too.
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