Emily Carr

So I tried to post this last night, but blogger was being weird and refusing to upload pictures the right direction. Anyway. On Sunday Sally and I went to the art gallery. It was the last day of the Emily Carr exhibit, which I hadn't made it to yet, so I was pretty stoked. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint. Standing in that room was just incredible. I adore Carr's landscape paintings so much. The lines and the movement are amazing and yet despite that sense of motion in her paintings they exude stillness - it is as if the world is collectively holding its breath. She captures the duality of nature being both beautiful and threatening so perfectly. Nature is alive in her works. It counter's humankind's creations and thus underscores our powerlessness in the face of nature, but at the same time her works are infused with a sense of spirituality, a connection between people and the land. Yes, Carr's nature could kill us, but it is beautiful and draws us into itself at the same time. She not only advocates for human creations, striving to preserve the totem poles she was so fascinated by in some form, but she also advocates for nature itself with works that reveal the decimation created by unrestrained logging and open pit mining. There is a real sense of the tug-of-war between humans and nature in her work. Neither seems to come out on top in the end. It was fascinating to see the changes in her style, the progression and development of her work over time. If you're unfamiliar with her work you should really check it out (one of my personal favourites is Scorned as Timber, Beloved of the Sky, 1935). So, inspired by Carr (particularly The Red Cedar), I present to you this photo from my last trip out to Victoria.

Ten Things...Let's get out of this town

In general, my flight instinct is a lot stronger than my fight instinct. As soon as things get hard, I want out. Life gets stressful and I start dreaming about being anywhere else. This is only compounded by the fact that I really do love to travel. Consequently, I spend a good amount of time thinking about being other places. I daydream about what my life would be like if I lived somewhere else. This longing for other places often finds its way onto the blog. Here's ten posts that reflect a yearning to just get out of this town (and, yes, that is a reference to the Carrie Underwood song):

1. Wanderlust
2. I love the places I ain't ever been to
3. Sometimes I feel I've got to run away
4. Daydreams of Paris
5. The Siren Song of the City
6. The Power of Suggestion
7. Sunset on the Harbour
8. Getaway Car
9. When words fail
10. Fields

In real life, unlike in Shakespeare...

In real life, unlike in Shakespeare, the sweetness of the rose depends upon the name it bears. Things are not only what they are. They are, in very important respects, what they seem to be. -- Hubert H. Humphrey

One of the classes I am taking this semester is called "The Self in the Novel". Intriguing, no? As I've been plowing my way through the first novel on the reading list (Great Expectations by Charles Dickens), one of the recurring themes I have encountered is the connection between a name and an identity. This quote showed up in my quotes of the day email (yes, I do subscribe to a quotes of the day email) today and just seemed to fit the novel so well. I certainly think that there is a link between the name and the self. Think about how different it is when someone calls you by a nickname versus your full name, or one nickname rather than another. I know that I associate certain nicknames with certain periods in my life and they really only sound right when used by specific people. I think that is telling. I might not act like a totally different person around these various groups of people, but there are certainly differences. Plus, each of my nicknames has come from a very different time in my life, when I was a very different person in many ways. Just an intriguing thing for you to contemplate. Or to promptly forget as soon as you stop reading this.

I figured that since the Shakespeare Mr. Humphrey is referring to is Juliet's famous rose speech (which I have previously posted with another rose picture here) that I ought to pair this rumination with a lovely, traditional kind of rose picture. I love the color of this particular bloom. Taken at the Buchart Gardens on Vancouver Island.

This is Calm

This is Calm

Christopher Dallman

So this is calm.

Should I feel optimistic?

Should I greet the sun with a smile?

‘Cause as it is

I roll to my side

And I lay there for a good long while.

So this is calm.

Should I feel okay?

And should this okay set my inspiration reeling?

Should I feel like I am pulled in all directions?

I feel no pull.

I feel nothing.

I ride the train from Queens to Morningside.

I keep my eyes straight ahead,

Keep my face dignified.

But is this linear or a downward slide?

This is calm.

This is calm.

When I asked you to leave

You threw your wine at the wall

And it bled down

Red on white.

My stomach did not turn,

And I could not match your tears.

I just stood there thinking,

“What a beautiful sight.”

I ride the train from Queens to Morningside.

I keep my eyes straight ahead,

Keep my face dignified.

But is this linear or a downward slide?

This is calm.

I guess I should feel like I can do anything,

But I can’t do anything at all.

I can’t do anything but fall down on my knees

At the whims of my dreams.

I can not do this to myself anymore,

Stay so strong.

Still, this is my voice.

I wonder why I can’t feel this.

I wonder why I can’t feel this.

I wonder why I can’t feel these questions in my throat.

I don’t know how,

I don’t know how to live,

But I will learn to live,

To stand,

To breathe,

To taste,

To love.

I will move on.

I ride the train from Queens to Morningside.

I keep my eyes straight ahead,

Keep my face dignified.

But is this linear or a downward slide?

I felt very calm all day today. While I enjoy being calm, there is always a part of me that finds it odd. I'm naturally a relatively high-strung person, so I spend a lot of my time stressed out and running on overdrive. For some reason though I was completely calm today despite being at work. It was kind of interesting. I love this song by Christopher Dallman. He has genuinely gorgeous songs, this particular one is from his "Race the Light" CD. If you've never heard his stuff you should definitely check it out. The lyrics of every song are poignant and beautiful and the instrumental arrangements are fabulous. I like that this song captures the strangeness of feeling calm. It's like you've forgotten something and you aren't quite sure whether it is a good thing that you are so calm.

I took this picture in Victoria last summer. Despite living in a landlocked city and not being someone with a fondness for beaches or swimming, I love being on the coast. There is something about the feeling of salty ocean air as the sun sets and the temperature drops that just can't be replicated anywhere else. I am always at my most content at sunset and twilight. I don't know why, but the world just seems to pause and take a giant, calming breath as the sun sets. Things melt away and the promise of a new day begins to creep in. I love that sensation. So, a picture of a sunset over the ocean seemed to capture the serenity I'm feeling right now.

The Cracks, They Start to Show

I went to Shakespeare in the Park tonight with my parents to see Macbeth. I've talked about how much I love Lady Macbeth on here before, but in case you missed it the first time, she is one of my favorite characters in all of Shakespeare. Fearsome, chilling, strong, ambitious, haunted. She fascinates me. I think one of the reasons I enjoy Macbeth so much is the psychological aspect to the play. I think it's interesting how Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are so haunted by their guilt, how it manifests itself in thier minds. The hallucinations, the sleepwalking, they are truly tormented. Lady Macbeth's much quoted "out damn'd spot" speech is the very embodiment of this breakdown. The cracks in her normally impenetrable armour begin to show. They appear slowly and without her knowledge, but the ultimately rip her apart.

The past little while I feel like some cracks in my armour have begun to show. I pride myself on being strong and independent, but sometimes it gets exhausting. Life has been getting to me. Needling me. Slowly wearing me down. This week was supposed to be really great, but yesterday was kind of disasterous and today (with the exception of the play) was only slightly better. I've been constantly frustrated lately. I really wish I had access to a sound proof room so I could just scream as loud as I can until my voice is gone. Obviously I'm not Lady Macbeth. I haven't abetted any murders lately, nor am I expecting any of this to lead to a complete mental breakdown, but the sentiment is similar.

I took this picture at Hatley Castle on Vancouver Island last summer. A very beautiful building. The carvings are what first captured my attention and led me to take a picture. It wasn't until I was home and editing pictures that I noticed the cracks running through the facade. It's interesting how true that is of most things. At first glance almost everything and everyone looks perfect. It isn't until you get a bit closer, until you get to know them, that you find the imperfections.

Brilliant

This photo has absolutely nothing to do with my day today. However, I captures my Saturday perfectly. I spent the afternoon at the park for my best friend's birthday party and it was splendid. The weather was perfect, the company was delightful, and I got to be in the woods while the sun was beginning to set and taking on that golden sunset quality. Sublime. Afterwards a few of us went back to her parents' house and just sat around the kitchen table talking for hours. I do not even have words to express how perfect a day it was. That's not true, I have one word: brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

I've been wanting to post this photo for quite a while because it is one of my favorites, but I haven't had the ideal occasion until now. I took this while I was in Victoria last summer. We were driving through Beacon Hill Park the first evening I was there and the sun was just beginning to reach the horizon and kept coming through the trees in these brilliant flashes. There is a certain feeling to summer evenings and I think this picture captures it perfectly. Warm and somehow magical, the world is awash in soft light and everything seems beautiful and perfect. That is exactly the way that yesterday felt as well. It's funny, because as much as I love language sometimes I find that words just fail and I begin to think in pictures. This is one such instance. There is so much more wrapped up in this picture than I could express here.

All You Need is Cheese

I realize that this picture has nothing to do with cheese. However, in my head, which is a very strange place most of the time, this picture and cheese are connected. I shall try to explain. Cheese makes me think of a) the food and the really annoying "all you need is cheese" ad campaign (does anyone else find those ads mildly disturbing?) and b) cheesy things, like movies and music and tv shows. I've been in a really weird headspace for the past few days and I really have no idea why. Maybe the weather has something to do with it, but I think it has been compounded by other things that are going on in my life right now. Regardless of the source of it, I've been a bit 'off' lately and have been trying to figure out how to cheer myself up and break out of my funk. Turns out the solution has been cheesy tv, movies, and music (and you were wondering how cheese and my mood were connected...patience Iago...). I've been listening to pop music (of the variety that it is vaguely embarassing to admit that I like it, but I love it nonetheless) and watching cheesy Disney channel/Family channel tv shows and movies (again, some people I know would be ashamed to associate with me if they knew that I was spending copious amounts of quality time with Disney channel stars). I know that this probably makes me incredibly uncool, but since I was never cool in the first place I am okay with it. Besides, it seems to be just what the doctor ordered. I am loving it.

If you have made it through that convoluted explaination of how cheese is even on my mind then you are probably thinking "That's great Breanna, but how does this connect to a picture of sunshine and flowers?" Well, my mood has become significantly sunshinier since my last post because of the vast quantities of cheesy media I have been consuming. Thus, even though it was grey and rainy today, I feel kind of like this picture on the inside. Bright, colorful, sunshiney, just plain old happy. It's nice. I took this picture last summer in Victoria at the Hatley Castle grounds. It was such a gorgeous day and we spent quite a while wandering through the gardens. Good times, summer, and sunshine are all things that suit my newly improved mood. Apparently sometimes it really is true that all you need is cheese.

Moments of Brightness

Let's face it, this week has not been that great for me. Between being sick (which I am still fighting off the spin off ramifications of that flu) and not yet having a job and discovering that very few of my clothes actually fit me any more (and yet, due to the job situation, I lack funds to replace said clothes), this simply has not been one of the best weeks ever. However, there have been bright spots. I saw a fantastic play on Sunday night. The Citadel does a Shakespeare play every season and this year it was As You Like It. The best live production of Shakespeare I have ever been to (and I can think of 11 productions that I have been to so this isn't a "it's the best I've been to" but I've actually only been to two). I got my marks back and did waaaaaaaaaaay better than I was expecting to. I had a major photography project that I finally wrapped up get good (dare I say rave?) reviews so far. I'll share that with you some time in the next couple days. I read A Little Princess and watched The Young Victoria. So, even amongst the disgusting week there have still been bright spots.

This picture seemed to capture that sentiment nicely. I love the bright pops of orange flowers against the grey rocky background and in amongst the dry, dead twigs. This was taken in Victoria last summer. Just along the side of a parking lot. I made my family stop while I took pictures. Man, I must be annoying to travel with...

Sunset on the Harbour

Can it just be summer already? It hasn't been that long since reading week, but I am so ready to be done this semester. It's not even that I'm not interested in my classes...okay, so many days I could pass on lit theory and my Shakespeare class isn't exactly peachy all the time, but in general I'm at least interested in what I'm learning about. I'm just...tired. It's mid-semester burnout is what it is. I would really like it to be summer, and I would really like to be somewhere on vacation. Toronto, Nova Scotia, Victoria...I keep scrolling through past vacation photos and have this ridiculous urge to be on a sunny bench somewhere, reading a book and drinking some iced tea. That would be lovely.

Anyway, on to the picture. I took this one in Victoria this past June. Sorry about the strange faint wavy line in the sky. My camera decided that vacation was a good time to act up. I don't think it's noticable enough to ruin the picture though. I would love to be strolling along the harbour in Victoria at sunset. Despite the fact that I really don't get along with boats I love to take pictures of them. They are just so beautiful. Also, I think my favorite vacations have all involved going to a coast of some kind, although it is never the hot, sandy, sunny "vacation spots". I'm not a beach person, but I am a coast person. Does that make sense?