the road to success is paved with... angst?

I know even the word itself sounds dramatic and kind of old-fashioned, but there's something to be said for brooding. Sometimes you just have to take a few hours, a weekend, or a week, to mull over something, and to let all the stormiest of emotions flood your senses. Feeling bad, and allowing yourself to do so, to feel the worst of it, can feel so good. I was so into brooding this past weekend that I spent 3 hours wandering alone in the Botanical Gardens with my camera. With my iPod blasting and hoodie pulled up, I was the picture of teen angst.

There have been a lot of changes going on in my city, in my life, and in the lives of the people I love. Some heart-wrenching, and some wonderful. Life is growing more complex and the right answers are eluding me, both at steadily increasing rates.

I try to write about these things, but I also try not to write about them, here. I try to write, but the moment I hold back or try to transform my posts into something more simple and digestible, I succeed - my words turns to mush. No one wants to read mush.

I'm going to be honest with you and tell you that as my life is changing, so is this blog. As my parallel careers start to bloom and my audience grows, I kind of feel like the world is getting uncomfortably small, and that I should be somehow shaping what I write to meet my changing audience. I'm succumbing to the pressure to act like a grown-ass woman with a burgeoning career, basically.

But, I always swore that I would never affect my writing to earn a job, that if someone wouldn't hire me because of my blog, that company wouldn't be somewhere I'd enjoy working. I still believe this.

I'm thinking about my personal brand a lot, but not just for the sake of self-indulgence. I'm thinking about what my dream career and the company I plan to build with my own hands will look like when it is at its peak. I'm thinking about what I want to build the foundation of so that it can grow strong and successful. I'm thinking about what kind of people and businesses I would kill to work with.

I want my brand - the way I present myself here and everywhere - to be consistent with what I want to become. In doing this, I want it to be consistent with myself and what I love most. I'm hoping that if I do and say what I really feel, I will find opportunities that are what I really want to do, and what I'm honestly good at. I want people to want to hire me or work with me for what I'm really like.

I've been laying low and hiding beside my photos, using my lens to show what I've been seeing. Photography is something I'm comfortable with, and something that I work hard every single day on getting better at. I'm ready to work at my writing, at and getting better at being honest and expressive. This may mean my late-twenties angst (yes, I'm 27 now, so y'all know what that means) may surface from time to time!

A photographer who I greatly admire, Jasmine Star, talks a lot about how building a brand as a photographer is all about putting your real self out there, for better or for worse. Jasmine truly leads by example, and her work — and the way she presents it as something intimately tied to herself — is inspiring.

After a lot of thinking, brooding, feeling sorry for myself for not being where I dream of being yet, and then finally listening to Jasmine and other successful business people I admire, I've come to realize this: the best way to get where I want to go is to earnestly pursue what I love, and to be honest with myself and the whole world (critics included) about what my biggest dreams are, and about the process of achieving them.

So here is me being honest:

- I try to learn something new about photography or business every day because I feel like I know SO little

- I think I suck at Photoshop, so I signed up for a night class

- It's hard working full-time, teaching, planning a wedding, trying to become a photographer, and having long-distance relationships with my family and most of my close friends, but I always feel guilty when I say this because I feel so lucky, too

- I feel like I should be stronger, smarter, better, thinner, and more assertive than I am

- I'm so nervous about shooting my first FULL wedding next weekend. Help!

Here's to honesty, to my next post being more coherent, to being there for everyone I love in the best way I can, and to being okay with making huge mistakes and not knowing what the hell I'm doing!

block it like it's hot

I'm not sure when it started, but over time, I've been losing my ability to write. This blog has become, primarily, a photo blog. I'm happy about this, because I'm shooting all the time, playing around on Photoshop, taking night classes to improve my craft and learn about entrepreneurship, and I love sharing my work here. Everything I've been pouring my energies into has been connected in some way to photography.

So that's great, right? I'm starting to see a return on all this time and passion I've invested. The photo stuff (minus the stolen camera) is really flourishing.

But my ambition creates a hydra that constantly stands in the way of confidence. Every time I chop off a head by accomplishing something, 3 other heads pop up, screaming, "but you suck at this area of your life, and you need to be really good at it — focus on this!"

Right now all the heads are screaming the same thing: "you suck at writing!"

As you can see here, I'm not exaggerating. But I want so much to be better, to write well, to hold a candle to the writers I admire. As always, I read voraciously, hoping to absorb some of their eloquence, but I just get... stuck.

I thought our skills were supposed to sharpen as we aged, enhanced by time and effort. My writing abilities are growing duller by the day. The only way I figure I can reverse this is to start, um, writing again, even if does mean subjecting you to some low-calibre stuff.

So, I suppose this is a disclaimer of sorts. I'm blocking the block by pretending I can write, and tricking myself into having the confidence to try.

french fights and equal rights

Back to the issue of anger in a second language that I mentioned a few days ago. Today was freaking frustrating.

Basically, 5 minutes after inviting me to her wedding, and telling me that, "it doesn't matter that we don't have much. Love is all that matters," the same girl who I mentioned in my previous post proceeded to go on a homophobic tirade.

It's as hard for me to translate the class discussion that followed, but it essentially consisted of this girl and a Peruvian man saying incredibly offensive and closed minded things about queer people. I don't even want to repeat the things the girl said. Suffice it to say that our teacher had to reprimand her. When she began to backpedal and said she doesn't respect gay people but she would talk to them if she had to, I called her a hypocrite (which is the same word in French).

When she said she sympathizes with people who say they would kill their child who have what (in her words) "is widely considered a mental illness," I asked her if she would be equally eager to kill a child that had any other kind of "mental handicap." Thankfully, my classmates and teacher stood behind me.

Our teacher told the girl that she has the right to her opinion, but that the school insists on tolerance, and she has to at least respect that while she's in the building.

The Peruvian man said: "the problem begins when you let them marry. It's even worse when they want to adopt. They should NOT be able to have children. " For him, gay marriage is as the destroyer of the nuclear family and basically heralds the apocalypse.

I am not a person who gets easily angered, but discrimination and hate speech are things that I refuse to tolerate. The girl and the man attributed their viewpoints to being latin-american. This excuse angered a lot of the other latin-American students in the class, who absolutely disagreed with them and were furious to be lumped in with their beliefs. For me, being intolerant has nothing to do with what country you come from, rather it is a matter of personal choice.

Anyways, this argument went on for about half an hour, ending only because the class did. Our teacher asked the two students to, if nothing else, reflect on what we've discussed today, and to consider opening their minds and hearts. She asked them:

"If you were in a car accident and someone came to your aid, would you ask them what their sexual orientation was before they saved you?"

I wonder if my classmates will go home and think more about this, or if they will go home to their respective households and reaffirm their close-minded beliefs with their sympathetic partners. I have been thinking about this discussion, and the protestation against equal rights a great deal lately, especially in light of Proposition 8, which "eliminates the rights of same sex couples to marry."

Jessica recently posted a video of Keith Olberman on MSNBC, discussing this very issue. In his words:

"This isn't about yelling, and this isn't about politics. This is about the human heart. And if that sounds corny, so be it. If you voted for this proposition, or you supported those who did or the sentiments they express, I have some questions, because truly, I do not understand.

Why does this matter to you? What is it to you? In a time of impermanence and fly-by-night relationships, these people over here want the same chance at permanence and happiness that is your option. They don't want to deny you yours. They don't want to take anything away from you. They want what you want: a chance to be a little less alone in the world."

Olberman claims to have no ties or sense of obligation to the gay community. He simply cannot fathom why people would be so against giving the equal rights to people who are in love and who want to marry.

I do have ties to the queer community, as many of my close friends are gay and lesbian, but that is not the sole reason I get so angry when I encounter intolerance.

I get angry because I believe that all humans who are honest, good people should be treated equally, and should be given equal status as citizens in country that claims to offer equality and freedom for all. I am always for things that promote love, and against things divide and discriminate.

I have a hard time dealing with the notion that immigrants who arrive in Canada with refugee status, and are given a chance by this country after suffering some kind of injustice or persecution in their own, would not be able to grasp the concepts of equality, compassion and respect for other humans.

I think it's obvious how excited I was by Obama's victory and the election of North America's first African-American leader. On the same day of his election, however, people voted yes for proposition 8. While a step forward was taken, there was also a large step back.

Today I struggled again to express my opinion in French. It's unfortunate that anger is what's driving me to push myself harder to speak well, but that's the way it is.

I am not giving up on either fight.

slowly moving along

This weekend had more than one tragedy. Though still rough around the edges, emotionally, I endeavour to get this apartment packed up, and move on to the next step.

In the meantime, I am blessed to have wonderful family and friends, including those who I (until this weekend) had not seen in years. I am thankful for brothers who treat me to dinner and movies, even though I am older and would happily be treating them were I not broke. I am thankful for my dad who kept kleenex in his pocket for me because he knew my tears were inevitable, despite me feeling steely enough not to need them. I am grateful for a mom who actually wears the necklaces that I clumsily make as gifts. I am grateful for Brian's awesome family, for taking me in this weekend. I am grateful for friends that refuse to let distance affect our friendships.

I am grateful to wake up to the sun in the morning, and I don't even mind the rain every evening. I am thankful for everything that isn't set in stone, and that I have the freedom of possibilities ahead of me. I am grateful for the clichéd yet legitimate tendency for death to remind us to be thankful for every day of life.

So often I am waiting for something, anything, to happen. There are always lulls, and then everything happens at once. My mixed emotions are like opposing weather systems, warm and balmy confronted by cold and dark. When the storm hits the calm, I feel like this.

On Tuesday, most of the news arrived by phone. I woke up to hear my oldest friend (the one who recently got engaged) tell me that her father had suddenly passed away. Just like that, while taking a nap at their cottage.

After hanging up the phone, it rang again, this time with a job interview for me.

It rang again shortly thereafter, when the head of Brian's Ph.D program called to tell him the department has a substantial amount of additional funding to offer him.

The phone rang once more, when the people buying some of my furniture called to tell me when they were coming to pick it up.

This same day, Brian, Peter and I met up at the printing shop and—almost $40 in photocopying later—all handed in our completed theses to the graduate studies office, and to our supervisors and readers.

And now, with half our furniture gone and an apartment half full of boxes, I am heading home for a funeral, only to return just in time for an inevitably hectic moving day. I will be back once the storm of everything passes.