Happiness is a line of gumdrops

Happiness is a line of gumdrops on the roof of a gingerbread house.

Happiness is an evening spent with a bowl full of candy, a piping bag full of icing, a goofy dog, and a friend you're so comfortable with that you have no need to filter out the weirder aspects of your personality.

The Good Things

I am finally done my SSHRC application.

I move on Tuesday.

I went out for dinner with a friend last night.

I spent Thursday evening catching up with some good friends.

I am lucky enough to work in a store that is already kitted out for Christmas.

I have some really wonderful coworkers.

I am currently drinking a lovely soy rooibos chai latte.

And, yesterday, while I was walking, the wind was blowing giant autumn leaves all around me.

Happy Canada Day!

Or, Happy Dominion Day!

Yes, I am aware that this is not the Canadian flag. See, for the past few years I've spent Canada Day at places like Fort Edmonton and the Ukrainian Heritage Village, where they put on Dominion Day events. I therefore don't really have a time-period appropriate picture to post today. Oh well. I have history-buff friends who will appreciate this.

I'm off to spend the day in Halifax with some friends. I hope you are having a lovely long weekend.

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.

Close to Home

Sometime around 7.30 the light outside became absolutely exquisite again, so I roused myself from my office and wandered around the block taking pictures. I really hope no one was looking out their windows at the time, because I probably looked like a crazy person (at one point I may or may not have crawled underneath a bush in front of the house next to mine...).

Shh! It's a Secret!

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

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.

Things That Might Go Wrong

Things That Might Go Wrong

John Steffler

I was trained to be cautious:

my father always there

two steps ahead of my every move:

"If you hold it like that it'll slip....

Now what are you going to do with it?...

I saw a guy try that once and it tore off his arm."

But I go beyond such rote-learned caution.

I am creatively cautious, exquisitely

sensitive to things that might go wrong.

Quicker than any computer my mind

scoots down dozens of possible turns events might take,

spotting the dangers,

clucking warnings automatically as a hen.

Now, lying in bed, I listen as

my young daughter goes to feed the dog.

Not in his water bowl! I think to yell.

Such a nag, I tell myself.

Always your fretful plaint rotting everything.

Poor kid.

Still free. Purely happy getting his food.

Keep out of it.

You'll make her hate you in the end,

look back some day and see

you were the hole that let in doubt and fear.

Even when there's no rattle of dry dog food,

even when I hear the dog slurping his breakfast

I don't say a word.

I lie grinning, victorious,

having checked all the dangers

and dodged the worst.

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.

Love Notes

I bought some watercolour pencils last week and have been having so much fun playing around with them. Last night I decided to make some of my experiments into little note cards to send to friends via snail mail. I have a pretty big collection of stationary already, but there is something extra sweet about sending something handmade.

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.

Snow-bound

It snowed a lot today, and I honestly could not be happier about it. It was an absolutely beautiful day. Not too cold, and perfectly wintery light. With the exception of a quick trip to the grocery store, I've been at home reading all day like the good, studious grad student that I am, even though my heart was trying to convince me that I should go take a good long photo walk. Well, I couldn't NOT pick up my camera when there was an abundance of snow and the perfect fading light of the end of the day, so I went out (without a coat!) and took pictures just outside my apartment for about 10 minutes. Hopefully the snow will stick around tomorrow and I can squeeze in a photo walk in the morning.


One of my friends came over for dinner on Friday before we headed out to a concert and party, and she left her bike here since it is generally unadvisable to bike after drinking. The weather hasn't exactly been bike friendly since then though, so her bike is still living outside my door. Turned out to be lucky for me, since it made for a couple of great shots this afternoon.

Stuck on You

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.

Getting Messy

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.

Non-Facebook Friends

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.

A little somethin' somethin'

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.

Words to Live By

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.

Here

I kind of love living here.


This past week was long and difficult, but somehow confirmed for me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

Focus

Sometimes you just have to focus on one thing at a time. That's what I've been doing lately and it is helping me keep my balance.

Explanatory Notes

I am a verbose person. I struggle with word counts and page limits. I've come to the realization as I've been writing my thesis proposal that part of the reason for this is that I write ridiculous numbers of explanatory notes. I'm constantly trying to clarify, to make things crystallize into a beautiful and clear diamond of meaning. Unfortunately, I usually just end up being wordy and therefore obscuring the point even more than if I hadn't tried to explain it. I'm in the home stretch with the proposal, but, surprise surprise, I'm over the page limit. Not by a lot. It's only four lines of text. Excising is always the hardest part of the editing process though. It requires you to be ruthless with your own work. And I find that it is harder the less I have to edit out. I can slash and hack, getting rid of whole paragraphs much more easily than I can carefully make tiny incisions to trim the text back one or two sentences. It's almost there. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.