set decorating

Potential spoiler alert: If you're planning to see the Sex and the City movie and care deeply about the intricacies of its plot, you may not want to read/view this post.

After finishing and submitting my chapter, Peter and I went to the premiere of the film, just for kicks. It was what it was: eye candy and girlie girl humour. The best part was seeing the majority of the other audience members teetering in (presumably buzzed on pre-movie cosmopolitans) on their stilettos and carefully arranging the folds of their floral print dresses into their seats. Also funny was hearing the shrieks of "Carrie! Carrie Bradshaw!" or "You're so Charlotte," as women greeted each other by the names of their SATC alter egos. It was something.

But, to be honest, after months of being buried knee deep in critical theory, that movie was just what the doctor ordered.

Anyway, the point I am getting to is that the set design was fantastic. What a great job that would have been, carefully choosing all of the colour palettes and pieces with a generous budget. Sigh.

I learned (via Apartment Therapy) that two of my favourite details are featured in this month's issue of Traditional Home.

This mirrored makeup table:

And this framed photo collage:


Now if only I can find a budget version of that makeup table.

surfacing

...aaaaand I'm back. Wow, that last post was terrifying. My steady descent into thesis-induced insanity (which Brian has commented on several times when he's caught me pacing or jumping up and down) was really obvious, even in my writing.

Anyway, the first draft of my last (loooonnng) chapter was handed in last night. I've spent the last month researching, tabulating, filling in spreadsheets, cutting and pasting quotes, synthesizing, writing and editing this chapter—my own original research. It was strenuous, but I am pleased with the final product, even if it's only a first draft. I have to get the introduction and conclusion done, and of course edit the whole whopping thing several times, but that shouldn't be so bad.

In my mind, the worst is over now.

thoughts bobbing up in the midst of my frenzied writing

Hardcore Sex and the City fans are embarrassing me as a woman. Since I'm working at home and constantly taking daytime tv breaks to "wash my eyes clean" (as my writer friend suggests), I have found myself smack in the middle of the the SATC promo target market. If I hear one more person compare herself to Carrie et al, I am going to lose my mind. Your life is nothing like those characters' lives! Get on with your own life!

That being said, I will be at the premiere tomorrow, and enjoying every mindless minute of it.

The smell of frying pork usually holds little to no appeal for me. After 5 days straight of 6-14 hours/day of writing, the stuff Brian has frying in the kitchen (yes, at midnight) is truly tantalizing.

I have a few new beauty products to recommend, that are making my regime easier and wonderful, so stay tuned for that.

Why, when I'm diligently working on my paper in a usually quiet coffee shop, do two girls have to pass all the empty tables and sit next to me while they cram for an exam that has something to do with ancient funeral rites?
e.g. "First they crush up the bones, right"
"No, they burn them, then dance around the fire."
"I was sure they did something weird to the bones first."
"Maybe you're thinking of cremation."
"No, I know what that is...wait, why do they dance?"

kill me.

My eyes are bloodshot to shit from staring at this screen, but here I am blogging. The problem with so much fun stuff being via computer is that I rarely remember to take my breaks away from it. A "break" means opening a Safari window and combing French street style blogs.

A girl who I haven't spoken to since high school added me to Facebook today. For some reason, her incredibly friendly, inquisitive message ("It has been so long....what has it been? Like 7 years since high school? Did you get to be everything you had always inspired to be back then? You really were a star...) was utterly depressing and hilarious at the same time when I looked at myself in my stained sweatpants and garbage-piled desk, and muttered to myself "oh yeah, this is everything I always wanted!" Let this thesis end for god's sake.

that is all

lovely lovely

Last night, I lugged a still-warm rhubarb crisp over to my friend Mark's house. I thought I was just going over for a quiet dinner, but when I walked into his apartment, almost all of my favourite people in Montreal were there yelling "surprise!"

I was genuinely shocked, and really touched. I have met some great people in this city. The rest of the evening was spent eating all the amazing food that people brought, and chatting over all sorts of booze.

Then today, after weeks of combing Craigslist and Kijiji ads, we finally found our new apartment. And it is fantastic. With etched glass french doors, pillars with angel face moulding, beautiful hardwood floors, two balconies, and a big kitchen, it is definitely a place I look forward to calling home.

Now that I know where I will be living, and have been reminded once again of the awesome friends I have made here, facing all the other unknown factors doesn't seem as scary.

why I love the rain

These pics of water bursting through a rock face were taken with my trusty point-and-shoot camera, which I am very fond of. I was fortunate enough, however, to be given an amazing new digital SLR for my birthday. Now I can finally look professional when doing shoots. Let the fun begin!

la vie en rose et bleu

It is so incredibly heartening to know that, even in the low times, one of the people I respect most in the world (and who also seems to be one of the most infallible people I know), could be feeling the exact same way that I do. He has the courage to explain it far better than I could.

vingt-cinq

At 25, I have more questions than ever. I've been called a "question asker" on two separate occasions in the last week. More on that later.

birthday photos by brian

romy

my neighbourhood at night

One thing I have noticed about Montrealers is the neighbourhood identity. One of the first topics of discussion when meeting a new person is invariably "where one lives."

Now I don't get to caught up in the politics of chic that seem to be so prevalent here, but I have definitely recognized that certain neighbourhoods have more of a cool factor than others. In fact, when one of Montreal's weekly publications features its "Best of Montreal" section, the "Best Neighbourhood" category is always a hot topic.

Certain people get so attached to their locales that they refuse to leave them. To be fair, most of the fun stuff to do is in the Plateau or Mile End, but I think most neighbourhoods have something unique to offer.

A lot of people do not share my sentiment. When I tell people where I live, I usually receive a blank stare and an "...oh." I can see the person's wheels turning, picturing pigeon colonies, cuisine limited to dozens of low-end noodle restaurants, overpriced apartments, and a generally rushed, unfriendly atmosphere. All true. And, to be honest, I can't wait to move.

But sometimes, if you catch our 'hood in the right weather, time of day, or light, it can be charming. Last night I walked along Rue Sherbrooke, following the perimeter of College de Montreal, a 250-year-old walled seminary-turned private school. The rain had just stopped and there was that fantastic springtime smell in the air. At times like those, I am happy just where I am.

this city and me

My anonymity in this city is starting to slip away. I've gotten to used to feeling invisible in the streets, too comfortable. Today I was out for a walk, shaking my arms and hands to loosen up the typing-induced tension, singing quietly under my breath while I walked. Trust me, shaking my limbs and muttering a melody does not make me stand out in this neighbourhood.

Anyways, so here I was enjoying myself, when who should spot me but my ballroom dance teacher, Laurent. He greets me in French (either humouring me, or forgetting how limited my vocabulary is) and starts asking me when I will be continuing my lessons. Before I finished my last session, I told the dance school I would be very interested in continuing lessons. Then I saw the price tag for a full session. Sure I'm interested, but I'm not insane. I can't afford to spend over a grand, gallivanting with the geriatric crowd at that studio. Sorry Laurent, I won't be seeing you any time soon. Despite your heavy accent and heavy lisp, you were a fantastic teacher, and I still understood you well enough to learn the Viennese waltz pretty well. If only I could dance my way through my thesis.

But back to the anonymity thing. As I meet more people and my chances of running into people I know during the day increase, I guess I should start leaving the house in something besides the same stained ,white hoodie I love so much. My daytime outfits are so bad that, the other day, a pigeon hovered above me and then pooped on me. If he was going to poo on anyone, he might as well do it on someone who is already covered in stains. I can't really argue with that logic.

I may only be running errands, but if too many people see me like this, I am certain I will end up on What not to Wear. And to think I was voted "Most Likely to be a Fashion Designer" in high school. This is what grad school does to ya, folks.

I suppose it's a good thing I'm getting so comfortable here because, big news, I am going to stay in Montreal. I may not have a job lined up, a new place to live, or a mastery of the French language, but I'm staying anyways. Brian will be entering into Concordia's Ph.D in Communication Studies program this September (a mere 2 weeks after he defends his MA thesis, boyfriend is crazy) so he's staying. I made my decision to stay before he found out if he got in, mostly because I didn't want my decision to be entirely influenced by his.

I thought about all sorts of other options: moving to Toronto (could work, but would be expensive), going back to Tanzania (still plan to, but have to make some $ first), moving out to Eastern or Western Canada (no major job offers pulling me to either coast), and many more, crazier ideas. All in all, staying here feels right. I haven't lived in any one house for longer than 2 years in the last 7 years, so it feels right to sink some roots in here.

Plus, why would I rush to leave when I LOVE this city?

We've already started looking for new apartments. The first one we looked at was love at first sight. It was HUGE, affordable, in an up-and-coming neighbourhood, close to a market, charming, and it had an extra room that I could use as a photography studio. We have to wait until May freaking 15th to hear if we got the place, but I have my fingers tightly crossed. After all, now that I'm staying, I need a place to call home.

why miley?

So I can't wrap my head around the controversy surrounding this picture.

Taken by the diva of photography herself, Annie Liebowitz, this portrait of teen pop culture queen Miley Cyrus has stirred up a lot of mixed feelings. Some say the photos of a 15-year-old with a bare back are to revealing, others say the "come hither" look in her eyes is not age-appropriate.

Who can decide what her eyes are saying? In my opinion, Liebowitz did what any great photographer does, and chose the photo where her subject's eyes were most intense. Just because her eyes are flashing, we do not know what she is thinking. Why, when a young girl has a brazen look on her face, do we automatically assume she is making love to the camera?

I know we've seen had some bad examples set by Britney et al, but in the case of Miley, it seems like people are projecting a precocious sexuality onto her. Not every young starlet is a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode into a drunken (or drugged out) nymphette.

She is a young, vibrant girl whose career is soaring. She is having her photo taken by one of the world's greatest photographers. Her eyes are probably shining because she's having fun.

In the Vanity Fair article that this photo accompanied, Miley shrugged off inquiries as to whether she was nervous about exposing "so much skin." When asked if she was uncomfortable she said, “No, I mean I had a big blanket on. And I thought, This looks pretty, and really natural. I think it’s really artsy.”

Now that the issue has hit shelves, and the photo has been widely criticized, Miley is reportedly ashamed. Her official statement states:
"I took part in a photo shoot that was supposed to be 'artistic' and now, seeing the photographs and reading the story, I feel so embarrassed," she said in the statement. "I never intended for any of this to happen and I apologize to my fans who I care so deeply about."

It appears she has been shamed out of her former excitement about the image. After all, nothing about the image has changed since it met her and her family's initial approval during the shoot. The only thing that has changed is how she has been made to feel about herself.

I wonder: the look in her eyes aside, is showing her back setting a bad example for her fans? Did Liebowitz take advantage of her innocence?

According to an article in the New York Times, Disney believes so. A spokesperson blamed Vanity Fair, saying that "a situation was created to deliberately manipulate a 15-year-old in order to sell magazines."

Let's not insult Miley's intelligence. At fifteen, girls are pretty self-aware. In the photo, she knowingly clutches the sheet to cover herself. She is no longer a child with nothing to hide; what she covers is her blossoming sexuality. A sexuality that—were Disney to have it their way—would stay under wraps for as long as possible, so that they could continue profiting from her squeaky-clean image.

As the NYT article notes, Portfolio magazine recently quoted president of entertainment for Disney Channel Worldwide, Gary Marsh saying, “For Miley Cyrus to be a ‘good girl’ is now a business decision for her. Parents have invested in her a godliness. If she violates that trust, she won’t get it back.”

Miley's handlers seem more concerned about losing the "godliness" of their meal ticket than about helping Miley deal with her own self image. In this sense, it seems to me that Disney is just as guilty of manipulating her as Liebowitz might be.

I look at the photo from a photographer's standpoint and I think it is artsy rather than sleazy (though more corpsey than sexy). I look at it, furthermore, from a female's standpoint. Would I feel embarrassed of a similar photo at age 15? No, I would be proud of my youthful beauty...until, of course, someone reprimanded me.

If it were in some indie publication by a lesser-known photographer instead of VF by the photographer, would it have been so contested? Did the context of its publication dictate the nature and volume of the reaction? Or, is it simply so scintillating that it would have elicited shock regardless?

I'm not sure. Poor Miley, the latest victim of America's culture war.

on bodies

These are a few samples from the shoot I did with Brian's band, On Bodies, last week. I'm keeping their official photos (to be used as press images) under wraps for now. The above ones were just for fun, playing around with lighting and reflective umbrellas.

below the surface

Writing, over the last few months, has felt a lot like swimming. I am using all of my energy to make it through the water, only taking the occasional breath. The last few days of every chapter has felt like diving to the bottom of a deep pool, swimming to the top, taking a huge breath, and diving under again.

While I've been writing (and finishing another chapter!), so much other stuff has been happening too. I need some time to actually talk to people about things, before posting on here. Especially since lately, I have become more careful about what I'm sharing and with whom. I have always been a very open person, but lately it's been catching up with me.

If my friends mainly learn about the state of my life through things I've posted online, that doesn't seem right. Out of respect for them, I want to keep some news for certain ears only.

But I'll be back, with new photo shoots and big plans to show and tell.