bla-esthetics

This blog needs a serious facelift. Any tips?

I just got this new hair glaze, which I've heard is pretty cool. You can judge for yourselves whether or not the stuff works or morphs me back into my grade6, experimenting with kool-aid as hair dye days.

In lieu of buying too many more MAC eyeshadows, I'm eagerly awaiting the new L'oreal knock-off products.

I also have to clean my room, and pack, and move...soon.

But I won't talk about that yet.

It's late here in Owen Sound, so it's time to sleep and stop fetishizing consumer products when I should be finishing my paper.

to de-glamourize is to...

I love the slide of guitar strings.

A while ago, I wished for music. Songwriting, like a lot of things, seemed stuck at the time. For a lot of last year and the bulk of this year I have felt creatively on-hold. First it came from being too busy to relax, and then from adjusting to myself in between two different worlds. I really think that we are rewarded when we struggle with ourselves, even if it takes a while for the frustration to come to a pleasant fruition. Maybe we're just ready, or maybe it takes others to push us out of whatever rut we're in.

I've worked with some incredible musicians over time, but on seperate, smaller projects. Over the last few months, however, I've been slapped in the face by the talent of some of my friends, and it feels great. Piece by piece, a few of us have come together and had a lot of fun cookin' up some new tunes. Sadly, we've run out of time for more performances in the near future, but plans for recording are in the works :)


clockwise from left: Alex Paterson, Brian Fauteux, Chris Crighton, Amy McGuire, Jennie Wilhelm and myself. Missing: Mike Higgins and Kevin Wong.


compass rose

Two weeks ago, I attended a really successful fundraiser called "Git R Done," at which the Drunken Bastards played a bit of a reunion show. They did a fantastic job and had the 300+ people (of all ages) dancing the night away.







I've also met a really cool musician, who is not only skilled, but inspiring and encouraging.

It seems like things are starting to flow again in the creative realm--it's about time!

***

The long-term forecast is looking promising, though scary. Come September, I'll be moving to lovely Montreal at Concordia University. Before that I'll be heading to Jonquiere, QC to re-learn my Francais. Other plans are still in the works, and it's all very overwhelming, so for the moment, I'll just think about now...

and try to relax

the demon barber of fleet street

Theatre Western's Sweeney Todd at Talbot Theatre.

stages overlap

MIT/ARTS formal: a great success!















Not every ending is cut and dry; it's unwise to leave fragments of life behind.
Past and actions can't be retracted, we attract the energy we are afraid to counteract.

An interesting article in the Post today. Makes me wonder about the different ways our past can catch up with us--whether it does so humourously or destructively all depends on current actions.

The Thorny Devil is my new favourite place in London.

If anyone wants Panama pics, let me know and I'll burn you a CD :)

I'm looking for a little peace and quiet, especially when D.B. Weldon has placed a hefty bounty on my head.

Here's something to cheer us all up:


Jennie in her element

aside from that, I'm starting up a big article on Spring Break (the history of, myths and facts, best destinations etc) for the Gazette. If there are any slants or ideas you think I should include, or if you have any ideas for people/sources to interview send them this way, please.

serenity and chocolate

Every day I vow to be more organized, and yet every day
1) my pile of overdue library books stares back at me
2) my costumes from last week are still in a duffel bag
3) my desk is covered in junk
4) the pile of class notes on my floor grows taller each day

And yet, aside from the library books, I don't mind the company of these objects. They remind me that I have things on the go. Having 4 classes is pretty relaxed, a few of my major activites for the year have wrapped, and now I have free time. Will this time go towards schoolwork? Of course not, because I--like many of my peers--have developed a case of fourthyearitis.

Although symptoms do not include apathy, bitterness or boredom, this disease is known to cause restlessness, apprehensivenss, lack of focus, nostalgia, and a general laissez-faire attitude. It can also induce a zen-like state, wherein nothing outside these last few months seems to matter (yet), where hedonism rules (at least until finals), and where you look at all your friends like they're on their last days (since you figure things will be different when you don't live in the same hood).



I'm prematurely sentimental, but that's only because I like where I am, and I've always loved it here. Now the focus is on making the most of the rest of the semester, while remembering that friendships (and more importantly,life) won't end when school does.
* * *

Yesterday my home-on-campus, The Gazette released its [quasi]annual Sex Issue. an incredible amount of planning, creativity, research and humour went into it, with almost everyone on the Ed Board contributing. A few of us were asked to help out by posing for the cover:



I have to say that out of all the photoshoots I've taken part in, this was one of the most fun to do. Obviously the theme was entertaining, the photogs (jen and lulu) were very organized and professional. All of the "models" were easygoing and fun to work with. The outfits were modest (for the most part)and the setting was cute. It was meant to be a campy, friendly, self-consciously cheesy romp in metaphors, stereotypes and, well...fun!

The genders were balanced, there was representation of more than one sexual orientation, and the photos showed both sweet and funny scenarios (my favourite being Jennie snapping a wet towel at Brian).

And yet, you had to expect something to happen...

"What the fuck is this shit? Happy false reality of love and heterosexuality day" was scrawled across the cover by the always courageous anonymous. I personally find the cover photo to be fairly ambigous, not to mention inclusive. It is not oversexualized, though it could certainly be a bit more ethnically diverse. But the photographers asked lots of people to pose, and those on the cover were the ones who volunteered. We can't fault them for that.

As for the defacer, I am curious to know how they would reverse their oxymoron "false reality" and explain the true reality of love? Also, since when did Valentines Day exclude people who aren't heterosexual? Obviously a lot of people have beef with Vday to begin with, so having imagery around probably exacerbates any distaste they may feel.

But really, apart from the hypercommercialization of the day, what is wrong with a day to celebrate love? Maybe you love your family, your friends, your dog, your frickin' ipod. Love is the most positive force around, so don't hate on the love you do have in your life. Feeling and showing love for other people does not merit condemnation.

I think that the idea of Valentine's day being a celebration for "lovers" should encompass every notion and expression of love. My friend Gill, for example, fell in love with a chocolate fountain and Krissie loved Amy Pye's heart pizza...and who wouldn't?

I think our bitterness will dissipate if we look for love, infatuation, pleasure and kindness in more than one place. I'm a hippie here, I know, but it stems from hearing and seeing too much hatin' on those of us who choose to have fun with a fun day, single or attached.

finally!!!!!!!

After months and months of work, the first of my grad school applications are in!

My blogging hiatus has come to an end.

Charity ball was fantastic.

I love my new position at The Gazette.

I have wonderful roommates.

I feel so much better, now that the first step towards a possible future plan is laid down.

I hope all of you have something to be relieved/excited/passionate about.

love, me


Christine, Boucher and myself with our pretty corsages

forgive me

Forgive me for my absence. Also, forgive me for the above awkward pose.

That's right, yours truly, good old squished-face is in a production. Now that these ridiculous posters are all over campus compliments of J. Antonio Tan, I'm reminded that I better learn my songs and dances, cause the show is fast approaching. If only I hadn't worn too-low jeans to rehearsal, and consequently spent the whole night holding them up instead of dancing....maybe then I would know the choreography.

I'm so close to applying for grad school. 2 more days and they'll be sent off. I'm hoping at that point the daunting, condescending, figure-out-your-future-idiot cloud above my head will dissipate.

brb (tomorrow)

it'll be a good one

A few days late, perhaps, but I'm sure everyone has been busy digesting the season.

I am as pleased as a peach, and though my writing has been sporadic, I assure you that my adventures and though processes have not. I've been very busy doing a lot of things I've neglected for far too long.

The best way to round yourself and bounce into a new year is to sink into a deep, shameless indulgence of food and liquor, laughter and laziness. After decadence, you are ready to return to the spartan life of a student. Or are you?

In the case of this year, I have taken the time to get to the things I've been dreaming of. Of course I still have a lot of songs in my head that have to get out, but that's what bandmates are for.

I've been wading in political rhetoric from many an ideological stream. All the platforms and promises are swirling around me, leaving me more and more uncertain as to how to cast my vote. I have a feeling this January 23rd will be tricky one for a lot of us.

Family Christmas was more like a hilarious and twisted sitcom than ever. For example, my cousin's dad (who's 40 and drives a Grand Am and recently spent time in India for "business") showed up wearing this:



and he was serious.






(these 3 pics by b. fauteux)

I got a chance to go to Burlington too. Despite the fact that my family and I lived out of a cabiney hotel room, my friends and many local bars opened their doors for me. It was great being home, especially because there must have been something in the air that night. For the first time in years, everyone showed up looking for a great time. Old arguments were mended, grievances dismissed, inhibitions shed and all was working it's way back to great. It's always great to go back to "home" friends and see what everyone's been doing. From hormone research with mice, to masters of childcare, changing careers, true artistry, and solid plans to become marriage counsellors, my friends are all on unique and wicked paths.





I myself have been talkin' bout some resolutions (sorry)...and no, not silly, unrealistic ones. I deal in practical goals like chocolate mastery and wine tasting.

Anyways, here are some new years images (Dan's apartment and The Velvet Undergroud in Toronto):
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My dad has been asking me all week if I would come in and sing with his bank's choir group. Since he never made it clear that they had asked me to come, I refused several times. I wasn't going to show up and crash the party. Then his assistant called and personally invited me to join in the fun.

I meant to go home and put something pretty on before serenading seniors, but my mom and I got trapped by various talkative shopkeepers and I arrived at the bank in a paint-covered hoodie, jeans and hiking boots (yes I transform into this person while in the country). My fellow carolers were all spiffed up in christmas sweaters and ribbons. They had a song book waiting for me. Under sunbeams filtering through seasonal window paintings, these ladies transformed a plain old bank into the sweetest atmosphere I've seen in a while.

Aided by a mini-keyboard, we huddled together in the centre of the building and busted out the usual holiday favourites. The customers were bewildered, yes, but pleased. They got me to sing "O holy night" and though my rendition will never compete with the drunken, 8-verse long epic performed by my comrades in a GTs basement, it's still my most beloved carol. Upon request, I decided to sing a Christmas tune that Jennie and I jokingly wrote a few weeks back, which went over well until I hit the chorus: "Christmas time in an Irish pub"...

One lady grabbed my hands and said "You don't know how much that meant to me" and walked away crying. I was happy but I hope I didn't upset her...

So wouldn't you know it, I'm going back tomorrow for the "Afternoon performance" and then to a Christmas eve service at a church. I don't know much about Church festivities, so anyone feel free to pass on any ettiqutte I may need to know..hmmm.

I am so charmed by some of the people I've met up here. Although Owen Sound has MORE than its fair share of characters...



it is also home to some of the sweetest people I've met.

mysterious new moon rising

Tomorrow is the winter solstice. I've been buried in books for a while now--both for school and fun--but I can still feel a change in the air. Is it the turning of the season, the breath-holding before a final semester, monthly fluctuations or is there something else...different?

Lately I've been struggling with this blog. I love writing so much that if my thoughts aren't transcribed onto a page, they don't know where to go. I would tell you everything, but it wouldn't feel right. I am a firm believer in the idea of a sacred space for some thoughts, for secrets. I am not a "daily me" blogger, and yet I apparently am, right this minute.

What I mean is, this is a public space and I want to share but how can you explain the in-between-updates moments where you haven't done anything remarkable or scandalous? Some periods of time lend themselves best to silence, or at the very least, to privacy.

If there's ever a post for anyone to relate to though, maybe it is this one. Since blogging has caught on, it seems like every baby step of our lives is thrown online. Passing comments, funny incidents, regrettable actions, social critiques are translated into a blog-able format (which often means enhancing or misrepresenting what actually happened) and archived into a chronological, quasi-interactive "journal".

When we sum up, stretch or sexify our stories we place them in a strange context. We publicly rewrite our own histories, and engage friends and strangers to join as we immortalize things that may not have happened as we blogged. No one wants an empty comments section, bloggers want to stay in the sphere of interest, so we feel pressured to post at certain intervals. If we fall behind, we are not only disappointing our audiences, but almost betraying the increasingly common practice of recording our lives as they unfold.

It also seems to me that we even choose situations and behave in ways that are blog-able, that will make great stories and rake in the hits. We catch up with eachother by clicking on our links, as we see eachother less. That's what blogs are also wonderful for though: keeping in touch. Hell, I managed to show you all a piece of my life in Tanzania. Who am I to bemoan blogging? It opens up glimpses into new worlds and it keeps loved ones in touch when face-to-face contact is not possible.

But when face-to-face contact is available, we are still connecting via blogs. I love this and I hate it. I love being able to know what everyone is "up to" but would much rather see them in person. I want to hear the real stories, or watch them happen, to share experiences with people rather than read...

But we're growing up and gradually diffusing into the world. If I can't see everyone, at least I can "watch" as some of the most talented, sincere and phenomenal friends I have venture out to carve their places in the world. Their blogs will tell me the way things are happening to them, personally. That, I look forward to.

On another note, it is the break and it's been awfully pretty up here.


The Festival of Northern Lights






snow monsters







Peace for a few!