Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

Last night I had the weirdest stress dream I have ever had. It involved participating in a group heist at a dance hall, being arrested by fake cops and taken to a jail which was actually a bar that we had to work in, having people try to force me to eat food I can't have, secret doors in bathrooms, and uncovering the fact that this was all an elaborate ruse to try to get me to buy the bar. There was a lot of running and screaming at people in the dream, and when I woke up I felt like I had spent the night running and screaming rather than sleeping. Not ideal.

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It's been a while.

I needed to get some distance from this blog, I think. Also, what little time I have between work, school, and a couple of other projects, usually finds me too tired to do much more than watch TV. And sometimes even that is too much and I just end up sitting and staring into space.

There are some big and exciting changes rolling out soon in terms of my photography. When's soon? When the big hand hits the 's' and the little hand hits the 'oon.' Bonus points if you get that reference. Honestly, I can't give you a firm date, and for now I'll still be here. Posting sporadically. Hopefully that's okay with y'all.

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Also, I really like this picture. Just, you know, in case you were wondering.

Birthday Blessings

2013 started off really well. I had high hopes and a good feeling about the year. Then the next week and a half walloped me with stress and anxiety and pretty much every other unpleasant emotion you can think of.

And then my birthday rolled around.

I just had a profoundly lovely, low-key day. There was skating and Beaver Tails, beautiful presents from my family, brunch with a couple ladies who I haven't seen for far too long, a leisurely wander through Chapters, good news on the job search front, good news on the PhD applications reference letter front, delightful news about a dearly missed friend coming to visit in about a month, and semi-plans for some future social outings. I've been crying a lot of happy tears today.

P.S. Remember the first time I took a picture of these bolts? I've accumulated...oh, one or two other shots of them since. I took this one when my family was down at Christmastime.

Hard Choices

Decisions. I am not good at them. And I seem to have found myself in a position where no matter what I choose it feels wrong. Of course, this also means that no matter what I choose it feels right. I am not sure what to do with this. Unfortunately my trusty pro-con lists are failing me. They balance out, making them as unhelpful as consulting the ocean and its ever-changing tides or looking for the truth in the strange combination of seagrass and acorns.

Old Haunts

Despite the fact that I am technically living in Halifax now, I seem to be spending a lot of time in Wolfville. I miss the place. Also, Halifax and I are having a rough go of it, so I often want to escape and try and think things through. And, of course, I have no desire to spend my days off in a mouse-infested apartment, and Wolfville seems like as good a place as any to get away rom that situation. I had a couple of days off at the end of the Thanksgiving weekend and came out here. My friend's family adopted me for dinner on the Monday night, and basically for all eternity with an open invitation to stay there any time I want, and it was lovely to be around a family. On the Tuesday evening I wandered down to the train tracks with my camera, and it felt like a homecoming. The light was beginning to fade, but the colours of the turning leaves were incredible, and I spent about an hour walking and taking photos. Sometimes going back to old haunts is exactly what I need. Although I am slowly acquiring new haunts in Halifax, it is a long and arduous process. It's nice to have a place to come back to where I can just slide back in effortlessly.

I should probably apologize if this post isn't the most coherent thing ever. I'm deep into SSHRC proposal writing and have very little brain power left for anything else.

The Brutal Mechanics

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Cow Head. The sign briefly points, a small road branching, winding among dunes and I want to follow it, imagining long-legged piers, sand spits trailing houses into the sea, but the pavement unrolls smoothly pulling me north, motion itself a tunnel, a spell, and I miss the turn, my chance of seeing Cow Head the way so many chances beckon flickering past, the streams, the little graveyards fenced with sticks, and high on a gravel beach a man spreading nets, his single boat perched on a spruce pole ramp and I want to talk to him, follow into his words, find him alone at dawn launching himself off the earth's edge, I could do it, stop here, let this be the spot it starts, rock, sea opening to whatever they really hold, but I don't, he's gone and I'm still zooming on, the car packed with bedding boots maps and the camera ready for use, I take the hills and valleys in a swoop as though the force it took to tear me away from home has not yet spent itself, and I just grip the wheel and go.

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The brutal mechanics of having a wish come true.

(John Steffler, The Grey Islands)

Sometimes life is hard. This is not the same as saying that it is bad. In fact, sometimes the hardest things in life turn out to be the best for us. The past month has been hard. Really hard. There have been adjustments, and setbacks, and rejections. There have been failures, and sickness, and sadness. There have been heartwrenching situations with friends, the kind where there is nothing I can do, but I want so badly to be able to do something. I think pretty much every day I say (usually out loud), "I don't want to be a grown up." I have, at times, wondered why I didn't just move back to Edmonton.

Don't get the wrong idea. It's not like my life has become some kind of catastrophe. There have been moments of exquisite happiness, and love, and wonder. There has been satisfaction, and contentment, and the feeling of being in the right place. There have been some excellent times with friends. And when all else has failed, there has been a dog to make me feel incredibly loved. Every time I drive the highway between Halifax and Wolfville, or take a walk near the ocean, I say (usually out loud), "I love living here." I have, at times, wanted to stay here forever.

It's been a while. And honestly, this blog might become much more sporadic. And it might become something entirely different than it is right now. I've been mulling some things over in regard to it, so we will see what shape it takes as time goes on. My life is shifting a lot right now, so it seems only appropriate that the blog shifts right along with it.

Brought to you by water

My life: brought to you by water. 

Last night I killed my phone by managing to get it into a sink full of water. See, I was texting someone while walking through my apartment, I tripped on one of my shoes that was sitting by the door, launched the phone across the kitchen/entryway, and got it into the sink full of soapy dishwater. Impressive in its own way I suppose. If I had been playing basketball it would have been a great shot. Anyway. The phone is deader than dead and I am currently waiting for a rather important call. Cue panic.

It poured today. And I mean POURED. Which was actually okay with me. It meant that I didn't want to go outside so I stayed home, cleaned the whole apartment, did some work, had a wonderful Skype date with Audrey, and listened to Elenowen's new EP on repeat all day (currently available for a free download at Noise Trade).

The rain came to a stop for a while around dinner, so I popped outside to take some post-rain photos. Sunlight + Water = SPARKLE. It was rather lovely.

So aside from the whole phone fiasco, things are pretty good here right now.

Heart-achingly Beautiful

heart-ache, n.
1. Pain in the heart; formerly = HEARTBURN
2. Pain or anguish of mind, esp. that arising from disappointed hope or affection.


I find the phrase "heart-achingly beautiful" rather useful at certain times of my life. When I am moved by something tremendously beautiful, I actually experience a physical sensation of heart-ache. Lately life has been heart-achingly beautiful; there is just so much joy kicking around that my heart feels a little full, and, consequently, a little achy in the best possible way.

Plan-less

A few days ago, Audrey sent me a text message: "What did you want to be when you grew up when you were a kid?" The question stymied me, not simply because it was out of the blue but because I actually didn't know. Not, I don't remember, but as a kid I really didn't know. So I told her this and related an assignment I distinctly remember from some point in elementary. We had to draw a picture of what we wanted to be when we grew up and do some kind of report on it. I had no idea. I think I drew myself being a teacher.

"I never knew either...I'm wondering if that contributes to my lack of career direction now."

I don't think I have ever had someone else tell me they didn't know what they wanted to be as a kid either. (Evidence that we were meant to be best friends? I think so.) And I think her connection is fair. It's hard to pick a direction when you never really had one.

We ended up talking about how odd it seems to still not know what we want to be when we grow up. In stark contrast to ourselves, we both grew up with a lot of friends who knew exactly what they wanted to do with their lives. They wanted to be teachers and doctors and nurses. And, guess what, now they are teachers and doctors and nurses, or at least in school to be these things. For Audrey, this was causing some panic and concern about her lack of direction, things that I am very familiar with. But my reaction when I consider the disparity between these people with a life plan and myself is quite a bit different now. I've come to love my plan-less state. 

I wish it was easier to explain this to other people, those plan-loving people I'm related to and friends with and meet at the bar. I suppose though, that they can just be concerned and panicked and stressed for me about my apparent lack of direction. It means there is no reason for me to be.

For Most of My Life

I was having fun playing around with this photo, and I really like how this version turned out.

I don't really have all that much to say right now.

I haven't been sleeping well. I crawl into bed thinking I am so tired and am going to have an awesome sleep, and then, no matter how exhausted I have felt all day, no matter how long or busy my day was, I can't fall asleep. I've taken to listening to audio books - mostly children's stories: Winnie the Pooh, Peter Pan, The Chronicles of Narnia - in an effort to help myself fall asleep. I need something for my mind to focus on so that it will stop thinking so loudly. When I told my mother this, she said, "It reminds me of when we used to play music for you to fall asleep as a kid." I'd forgotten this little biographical fact. I distinctly remember though, that a) I couldn't fall asleep without listening to something, and b) there were nights when the tape would finish before I fell asleep, and I really hated that. Apparently, insomnia, like perfectionism, has been plaguing me for most of my life.

Apparently, I had more to say than I thought.

Gatherings of the loveliest sort

Jean soon learned that at Ewa's parties there was always a project on. Huge rolls of brown paper were unfurled and everyone painted a mural; a sheet was tacked to the wall and a film projected while the Dogs played, sewing together a melody out of silence and the whirring of the projector. Actors gathered in the middle of the living room and, with nothing more than a spoon or a dishtowel, transformed reality - having a Sunday row on a pond or floating in a lifeboat on the North Sea; suddenly they were lovers on a picnic blanket, or thieves, or children on a swing. Jean knew these actors had worked together for a long time, a bodily history among them. She had seen Avery perform loaves and fishes with objects, with stones on the beach, with rulers and wooden blocks, creating bridges, castles, entire cities. But his magic was solitary and intellectual compared with the instantly complex communication between these bodies, the moment continually changing, deepening into humour or sorrow. And sometimes this pathos was intense, and a hole opened, and everyone watching from the edges of the room found their own sorrow pouring into it. Crack! the earth of the scene split open and down everyone tumbled together into the wreckage of memory. And then the actors melted back into the party, and the food and the bottles were passed around again.

-- Anne Michaels, The Winter Vault 

Some day, I would love to host gatherings like the one that Michaels describes in this passage.

I was fortunate enough to spend quite a bit of time over the long weekend at low-key gatherings with dear friends. It was a pretty delightful way to celebrate the start of summer, if you ask me.

Well hello, long weekend!

I am currently listening to the soundtrack from Smash and getting ready to meet up with a couple friends to sip beers on a patio in the sunshine. I think this long weekend is off to a rather excellent start.

Despite that...

Despite the fact that I'm drowning in secondary sources right now and am having regular existential crises (seriously, this comic is my life right now), I am actually profoundly excited for the next few months. If the last several weeks are any indication, this is going to be one awesome summer. And, honestly, I am totally okay with that.

Shh! It's a Secret!

...and I can't tell you...yet.

Adventure and Passion

I see life in angles, in lines of perspective, a slight turn of the head, the blink of an eye. Subtle glimpses other folk might pass by. Cameras help me translate, interpret, and understand what I see. It's a simple act that keeps me grinning. I never set out to become anything in particular, only to live creatively and push the scope of my experience through adventure and through passion.

-- Mickey Smith, Dark Side of the Lens

If you haven't watched Dark Side of the Lens yet, do it. Now. I can't properly explain how inspiring I find this video. It's stunningly shot and exquisitely narrated. The twin ideas of adventure and passion are things I've been trying to incorporate into my life more. Or, rather, they are things I've been trying to follow more regularly. I'm starting to learn that I will never regret saying yes to an adventure, and I'm starting to try to shape a life for myself that is defined by my passions, no matter how impractical it may seem. Apologies if you feel like I've been harping on about this particular video, since I posted a couple of quotes from it on my other blog, and shared it on Facebook. When I find something this good, something that articulates things I'm trying to wrestle to the ground this clearly, I have to share it with everyone I know.

Leap and Shuffle

I've taken to walking down abandoned railroad tracks. It turns out they are good places to think these strips of solitude that run along the edge of town. There used to be trains running between here and Halifax, carrying people with stories of their own toward lovers and family and friends, or away from lovers and family and friends. I think of them and their stories. And as I walk I find myself pushing past trees that have taken root along the rails, pushing my way deeper into silence, deeper into solitude, deeper into history. And I think about the workers who laid this track. I wonder if they carried a picture of someone in their pocket - a sweetheart, a mother, a daughter, a sister - and if they took it out to look at when the work seemed like too much. I wonder if they missed home. For some unknown reason, a strange personal superstition, I suppose, I only step on the ties. I focus intently on this task, and suddenly that old childhood singsong rhyme floats into my mind. "Step on a crack and you'll break your mother's back." I smile, because my mind stores strange and useless information like this and because here there are no cracks, or perhaps there are only cracks, and I am not entirely sure what this means. This practice makes walking difficult though. Sometimes the ties are too far apart, sometimes they are too close together, so I have to leap and shuffle along this path into the past. And I find this appropriate, for the weight of history always seems to make us walk a little oddly.

Wonder temporarily overpowering the mind

astonishment, n.
4. Mental disturbance or excitement due to the sudden presentation of anything unlooked for or unaccountable; wonder temporarily overpowering the mind; amazement.

I've been finding myself astonished quite frequently lately. Here are some of the (good) things that have been provoking this sensation:

The friends I've made out here. They are some incredible people.

The fact that it has already been 8 months since I've moved. Crazy!

The small, simple moments of beauty that are everywhere.

All of your wallowing is unbecoming

Come Back Down
Greg Laswell (feat. Sara Bareilles)

Come on now you good friends, are you waiting this one out
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
Look around you, you're the only one dragging this out
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
All of your wallowing is unbecoming
All of your wallowing is unbecoming
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here

What you set out to kill off has been gone some time now
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
Head out any further and you might just forget how
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
All of your wallowing is unbecoming
All of your wallowing is unbecoming
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here

All of your wallowing is unbecoming
All of you wallowing is unbecoming
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here
You've gotta take it on your own from here
It's getting pathetic
And I'm almost done here
You've gotta take it on your own from here
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down
You've gotta come back down


If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know I like my singer/songwriter artists, and that I am a serious fan of Sara Bareilles. So, I ask you what could be better than one of my favourite singer/songwriters teaming up with Sara Bareilles? Pretty much nothing. Plus, at this point in the term, sometimes I could use a reminder not to wallow. And frankly I would rather hear it from Greg and Sara than from someone else.

Obsession

obsession, n.
3. An idea image or influence which continually fills or troubles the mind; a compulsive interest or preoccupation; the fact or state of being troubled or preoccupied in this way.


I may have a bit of an obsession with photos of sunlight through tree branches. I hope this doesn't bother anyone.

On Days Like This

Today was not a good day. I did have a lovely dinner with a friend, but aside from that there just wasn't much good going on. When life sucks and nothing seems to be going quite right, I find that searching out beauty and inspiration is one of the ways I can maintain my precarious grasp on sanity. Here are a few of the places I wander to online when I'm in need of a reminder of the good and beautiful things in life. I thought I'd share them with y'all so that you too could turn to them in moments of need.

A Cup of Jo - I visit this blog every single day, without fail. Every. Single. Day.

rockstar diaries - I'm obsessed with this blog. It is impossible for me to not be inspired by Taza's posts.

Clumsy, Creative Bliss - Gorgeous photography and a consistently positive outlook on life. This is a must-visit blog any time I'm feeling sapped.

wit + delight - Consistently reminds me why I appreciate the finer things in life, and how wonderful the simplest things can be.

Note to Self - Just a gorgeous blog. And the Monday quotations always resonate with me.

Nancy Straughan - The sheer volume of visual and artistic inspiration I find on this blog is astonishing.

thxthxthx - Because I find this concept absolutely delightful and Leah's view of the world is so wonderful.

Ring Them Bells - Witty. Funny. Touching. Slightly bizarre. Elizabeth is a delightful writer.

The Storialist - Ekphrastic poetry that is incisive and touching and challenging all at the same time. Hannah's discipline astonishes me.

Live Creating Yourself - Always something beautiful to be found on here.

The Meltdown

Winter just doesn't seem to want to stick around out here. Everything started melting today. It made for some pretty photos, but not exactly the kind I was hoping to take. Oh well. I was just excited about being able to squeeze in a half hour photo walk before my afternoon class. Sometimes I'm pretty certain that art and my friends are the only things keeping me from having a total meltdown.