The caffeine isn't helping...

Sorry that I missed posting last night. I went to see "The Glass Menagerie" at the Citadel and then crashed at my parents' house and didn't have my computer with me. So here is what I had planned to post yesterday. I'll probably still put something up tonight. On a related note: "The Glass Menagerie" is probably one of my all-time favorite plays and the rendition at the Citadel right now is beautifully acted and uses music in a truly wonderful way. Despite the fact that I was completely exhausted, it was a lovely evening.

This picture pretty much sums up how I (and most people I know) have been feeling the past few days and how I'm probably going to feel for quite a while given the fact that those of us in the school world have had papers, final projects, and the looming prospect of exams descend on us. I took it on choir tour my first year at King's. It was a rainy/snowy afternoon in Jasper so a few of us decided to hole up in an internet cafe for a while and enjoy some chai lattes. We were pretty tired though so sitting down in a warm place made us a bit sleepy. That day in Jasper is one of my fondest memories of university.

After 17 pages I have a rough draft...

Welcome to my life this week. I just finished a rough draft of final paper 2 of 5 and it is 17 pages long. My brain is shot. Unfortunately I need to edit it still (and if you know me then you know that editing is not a quick, throw-away kind of process) and then I get to start on the paper that is due on Thursday. Such is the life of an English major. Particularly one who is as bad for procrastinating as I am. It's the Easter long weekend this weekend though so even if I still have copious amounts of reading and research to do I at least get to go home and don't have to go to classes.

So this is a bit of a photo essay of sorts, all images taken during late night paper writing sessions over my university career. First up we have a lovely paper in the process of being edited. I'm pretty sure this one was on the depiction of Natives in early Canadian literature. I find it rather amusing that the part of the paper that is in focus uses words such as 'cannibalism' and 'killing' multiple times. Somehow that seems very appropriate for the mood that I hit around 3 in the morning. Next up is a stack of paper writing essentials: Oxford English Dictionary, a good Thesaurus, and an anthology. Swap the anthology with my Canadian Writers' Reference Guide and you would have the three books that I must have within easy reach during any paper writing session. I have no idea what anthology that is though. I do know the picture is from last year some time. And last up we have a stack of library books (that is a pretty baby stack actually...given that I have more books than that out for my Shakespeare paper right now...) coupled with my giant Art History textbook and huge literary theory textbook. I'm willing to bet that those books weren't all related to the same paper but somehow ended up piled on my desk. Picture is from sometime in the insanity of last semester.

All right. There you have it. A slice of what is eating my life this week (and the weeks to come). I better get back to my Victorian Lit paper.

Picture Perfect Ending

Today was warm out but overcast, which was okay since I was inside writing papers all day and wouldn't have gotten to enjoy the sun even if it had been out. The clouds started to thin just in time for sunset though and the sky was full of wispy purple and blue clouds and the world was washed in a golden light. It was actually quite gorgeous. I took this picture from the window in front of my desk. I looked up from my paper and the sun was hitting the brick on the corner of the building so perfectly that I had to grab my camera and document it. There is something so peaceful and soothing about the golden light of sunset.

Sunshine on My Shoulders

Today actually felt like spring, which was absolutely lovely after the snow of the past week. The sun came out and I even walked across to the school in just my tshirt without freezing. It was one of those that puts the song "Sunshine on My Shoulders" in my head, a smile on my face, and a sense of hope in my heart. Normally I wax poetic about fall and am rather disparaging about spring, but there is something about spring this year that just feels like such a relief. Does anyone else feel that way? It is as if some giant burden has been lifted off my chest every time the sun decides to show its face.

This picture is from last summer and evokes lazy days of hanging out with friends, eating picnics, and lounging on the grass. Ah, how I wish I was doing that instead of working like a mad woman on the papers that are due in the next few days. It's supposed to be lovely this week and I think that will make the copious amounts of homework I have quite a bit more bearable.

Wine and "Chess"

No, I did not spend my evening playing chess. Although I wouldn't put it past myself to do so. Instead, I was hanging out with my best friend, drinking wine and watching "Chess In Concert", which is so incredible that I am not sure there are words in the English language to describe it. It is, as Erin so rightly pointed out, everything that a musical ought to be. Plus, the all-star cast of Josh Groban (who is just plain phenomenal and has the ability to cause me to feel like I'm melting), Idina Menzel (who is pretty much my musical idol), and Adam Pascal (who's rock and roll edge is incredibly sexy) is pretty much my dream cast. Thank you Erin for a FABULOUS night!

This picture isn't actually from tonight since both Erin and I are white wine people. These are actually a couple of the worst martinis I have ever tasted. Seriously. Anyway, they at least looked pretty. I tend to be fascinated by light and the way that it was shining through the drinks onto the table cloth was to beautiful not to take a picture of it.

Luggage or Baggage?

I love to travel. Part of the wonderfulness of traveling is living out of a suitcase. Now I don't enjoy the actual packing part because it stresses me out. I am what I call a "mood dresser" so I typically can't even pick out an outfit the night before. This makes the concept of picking out outfits for an extended period of time that use a limited number of pieces incredibly daunting for me. However, once I actually get the packing done, I love living out of a suitcase. It makes me feel like I'm on an adventure even if I'm just going to my parents' for the weekend. Plus I end up saving so much time in the morning since I don't have to figure out what to wear. Vintage luggage is great. I think the idea of packing in trunks and hatboxes is simply charming and if it was at all practical I would go out and invest in a great steamer trunk. In reality this is a horrible idea. Can you imagine trying to check a trunk on a plane? Yikes. Anyway, all of that is why I originally took this photo at Fort Edmonton last fall. Yesterday I was scrolling through pictures trying to decide what to post and came across this one and considered it in a whole new context. I spent Tuesday night hanging out with my friend Steph and we were talking about the excitement of new beginnings. One of the great things about moving somewhere that people don't know you is the ability to hang out with people who don't see you through the lens of your personal or relational baggage. They don't look at you and see the thirteen year old who was having a rough go of it, or the sixteen year old who bounced from guy to guy, or the person that once said that really mean thing to them because you were hurt and angry. Starting over with a fresh slate can be phenomenal. This isn't to say that I don't love having friends who have known me for a long time. Sometimes it's great to have people around you just get you, who have seen it all and aren't weirded out by your little quirks. I think it takes a special type of relationship to last for a really long time though. I don't know exactly what quality it is, but it has to do with the ability to not hang on to baggage or view people through past difficulties. Lasting relationships are ones where the past isn't forgotten, but you are allowed to grow and change. I'm definitely not perfect at this; I don't think anyone is. But that's the difference between luggage, the stuff you need to carry with you, and baggage, the stuff that needs to be let go. Sometimes telling the difference is hard. Sometimes the only way to get away from baggage is to literally get away.

Art

The new Art Gallery of Alberta (www.youraga.ca) building opened at the end of January and since I am a bit of an art nut I was pretty excited to go and check it out. I finally made it out this afternoon with a bunch of people from my literary theory class. And it was DEFINITELY worth it. The building itself has caused a bit of controversy and I'm not really sure I like how it looks. Sometimes I think it's cool and other times I just think it's weird. But, from the inside it is pretty sweet. The stairs between level are inside the swoopy (very technical term) bits of the building so it looks pretty sweet inside. They don't have their permanent collections out yet, but the current exhibits are pretty awesome: Degas (his "Two Dancers" is probably my favorite piece of artwork), Goya, Karsh (who must have had an incredible life since he met so many famous people through his work as a portrait photographer), and a couple of installation pieces by Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller ("Storm Room" and "The Murder of Crows", both of which are really cool but thouroughly creeped me out). All in all it was an absolutely lovely way to spend an afternoon.

So, since I'm thinking about art I was trying to find a picture that related to this somehow and I remembered these posters that were in a coffee shop in Toronto. Now, this is a pretty amazing coffee shop in the Distillery District of Toronto (which, by the way, is probably my dream address should I ever move to Toronto). They have all of these really old ads for coffee companies that are pretty awesome. I spent forever just staring at them. This particular image is of the wall and most of the poster that was just above the table I was sitting at the first time I went there. The space just lent itself to sepia tone photography. I love the industrial feeling of the exposed brick and metal light fixtures and (although you can't see it in this picture) exposed duct work in the ceiling. Anyway, I think that these posters qualify as art. The idea of what constitutes art intrigues me because I think it is really difficult to define. I'll spare you my ramblings on this subject for now. I'm always up for a good conversation about such topics though.