...when the only thing that will make things better is looking at cute pictures.
This week has been exhausting and it is only Tuesday. I'm only making it through because I have plans to meet up with friends every single day this week. It helps.
So, in case your life is shaping up to look anything like mine, here are some cute pictures to (hopefully) help you make it through. Exhibit A: A hawaiian rubber duck that was the wedding favour at one of the weddings I went to this summer. Exhibit B: An old post with some adorable dogs. Exhibit C: A picture of of a teeny tiny kitten. (I can't look at this without making odd squeaking sounds.)
Tonight I sat in one of the local pubs with a lovely person who is rapidly becoming one of my dearest friends out here. There was live music and good wine and delightful, meandering conversation. At some point our conversation turned to the future, to leaving Wolfville, and to the discomfort we both feel with that idea. This town is wonderful in so many ways. Of course it has it's problems. It's a small town. You run into people you would rather not see. Everybody knows everybody else's business. There's a lot of chatter, some of which is simply gossip. But it's also beautiful here. We talked about how this is the first point in our lives where when something goes horribly wrong our first instinct isn't to long to be back with our parents. There are places here that feel like home. I can go out. I can meet up with a friend. Basically, the things that would have made me feel like my world was ending only a year ago are now painful, but somehow more manageable. Thinking about leaving is unpleasant. This is a strange town though. Almost everyone here is in transition. None of this is permanent. Yes, there are people who actually live here, but for the most part people's time here comes with an expiry date. In some ways this impermanence is what allows for such a wonderful atmosphere here. Consequences are diminished somehow. But if the loveliness of living here is predicated on this transitory nature, then one can also outstay one's welcome. So staying sometimes seems impractical. How will the experience of the town change once all of my friends have left? We didn't really come to any conclusion, other than my feeble suggestion that perhaps we have reached a point in our lives where every decision we make means passing on something potentially wonderful. When I was trying to decide where to take my master's a very wise friend told me about her experience and said that no matter what decision I made I was always going to be missing out on something, but if I made a good decision then while I might wonder what would have happened if I'd chosen differently, I wouldn't be able to picture it any other way. I feel like this has become the case for every decision in my life. I just hope that I can continue to choose wisely, because right now I couldn't picture my life any other way.
In an effort to counteract the combination of winter blahs and stress about school and the future, I've been trying to immerse myself in artistic pursuits as much as possible. Today I took a break from my mountains of reading to break out the oil pastels and get good an messy. It felt wonderful.
I have a few friends here who I am not Facebook friends with. I've been thinking about this quite a bit lately. I really like Facebook. It makes it nice and easy for me to stay in touch with friends and family regardless of where they are. But I think there are some problems with constant contact, with artificially extending friendships beyond their natural limits. In some cases, I think it just isn't healthy. Sometimes when you move away from people you should lose contact with them. Sometimes it should require effort to find out how someone is doing or what has been going on in their lives. I kind of appreciate having friends that I have to call or send a text message or see in person in order to find out how they are doing. There's more intention behind it. It means more.
By the way, I do realize the oddity of posting about how great it is to not be Facebook friends with people when most of you are probably getting here via Facebook. This is just something I've been thinking about lately.
It's late, but for the first time in many days I am not up because I can't sleep. Or rather, I am up because I can't sleep, but I can't sleep because I'm immersed in something creative, not because I'm having a panic attack about my future. I've been trying to assemble some submissions for a particular arts publication, so I've been editing up some poems and trying to select and title some photos. It's fun work. I've noticed something as I've been doing this though: the quality of light in my photos has changed since I've moved. Partly this is just normal seasonal shifts, but I think it also has to do with place. The light is different here in some fundamental way. I like it a lot.
When I decided to move out east I was frequently asked "Why would you want to move there?" (Most notably I was asked this by someone who was considering moving to Saskatchewan for a retail job...I asked him the same thing.) Well, this post is for all of you Albertan folks who couldn't fathom why I would want to come out here.
Consider today's weather in the afternoon:
Wolfville: 3C
Edmonton: -26C with -43C windchill
Friends, this may not be why I moved out here, but I sure am enjoying it.
(PS - We do now have some snow. Not a lot, but more than this photo.)
One of my favourite subjects while I was taking my undergrad was art history. You probably wouldn't have guessed this if you had been talking to me while I was trudging through the ridiculous amounts of reading and studying or the three hour lectures, but I genuinely enjoyed the material. I actually considered taking this year to get a second BA in art history. Anyway. One of the really interesting things we talked about was self-portraiture and how it convey's the artist's opinion of and way of seeing his or her self. It's fascinating stuff. I could go into all sorts of details about how this particular self-portrait reveals stuff about me and how I'm feeling about myself and my life lately, but I'll let you try and figure it out on your own if you so choose rather than boring you with my own analysis of myself and my work (which, depending on your theoretical school, may not even matter in the end). I find it interesting though that in almost all of my favourite pictures of myself, I am either not looking at the camera or I'm making a ridiculous face. I'm sure that reveals some sort of deep psychological truth.
It's my birthday in 3 minutes!
Just a little somethin' somethin' for you all to enjoy. This is one of my favourite shots from a photo walk I took in early December.
Can't Go Back Now
The Weepies
Yesterday when you were young
Everything you needed done was done for you
Now you do it on your own
But you find you're all alone, what can you do?
You, and me, walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now
You know there will be days
When you're so tired that you can't take another step
The night will have no stars
And you will think you've gone as far as you will ever get
You, and me, walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now
Yeah, yeah
Go where you want to go
Yeah, yeah
Be what you want to be
If you ever turn around
You'll see me
I can't really say
Why everybody wishes they were somewhere else
But in the end the only steps that matter
Are the ones you take all by yourself
And you, and me, walk on, walk on, walk on
Yeah, you, and me, walk on, walk on, walk on
'Cause you can't go back now
Walk on, walk on, walk on
You can' go back now
I think if I had to pick a theme song for 2012, it would probably be this one.
I am now the only person in my program at school. It was never a big program, but the other two, for very good reasons, left over Christmas break. This was a weird realization, and to be quite honest the reality of it hasn't totally set in yet. I'm trying to make the best of it. After all, it's not like there is anything I can do. I just have to keep on trucking. But I'm also feeling a little bit exposed and insecure and just a little bit scared. I've always relied a little bit on my fellow students to keep my sane and grounded. There have always been people who could commiserate over stress levels, and that always made me feel less crazy. There have always been people to talk me down from the precipice of full-on panic attacks. So going it solo is a bit scary. It's like having the training wheels taken off before I'm really ready.
I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.
So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.
Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.
Make your mistakes, next year and forever.
-- Neil Gaiman, from his New Year's blog post
If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably already know that I have a fondness for a good quote. These often become guideposts in my life, and this Neil Gaiman quote is one such marker. This man is wise. Really, really wise. It is rare for me to come across something he has written or said and not latch onto it. This New Year's wish really struck home for me. What a wonderful way to live 2012. So for the next 12 months, I am going to fearlessly make mistakes. Maybe this means my life will look a little bit messy to people on the outside. This most certainly goes against my perfectionist tendencies. But these are going to become some of the words I live by this year.
