Feliz Año

When I was in high school I wanted to be a writer. To travel the world and drink wine in the wee hours and spend weeks with lovers who I didn’t understand all while wearing really expensive shoes. I wanted to weave stories about life and love and adventure that I’d seen with my own eyes. Some throw away words from a teacher about how often I became “wordy and a tad self-indulgent” gave me doubts. When I went to university, fully enrolled in the Creative Writing program, the thought of sitting through classes where my peers critiqued the words I’d poured over turned my doubts into fears. I quit. I focussed on someone else’s art. Years and years of someone else’s passion. I poured over it and let it fill me up. Still, with every step I take a story weaves itself in my head until my thoughts are full with a rich inner-dialogue from a narrator to the story of my life who sounds just like me. Last year I jumped fast on the overflowing Mommy-blogger bandwagon. It was an excuse to write, a way to feel less alone and a place to find the overwhelming peace that has always come with telling my story. I thank you all for listening. I hope that soon I can find something worth your attention again. It’s been too long since I’ve had a story worth telling. I pride myself on my love affair the silver linings of life and for the past few months those silver linings have receded so far my narrator got lost in the clouds. My inner voice went on a vacation with happiness, passion, self-respect, dignity. I could go on forever. They must have chartered a jet. Rented a whole hotel in Vegas. Like no other this year has been full of the most epic highs and the most devastating lows I hope to ever encounter. There is a story here I’m sure, but not one I’m willing to tell and certainly not the one I thought I’d be writing. The moral to this untold story? Today, for the first time in months I saw the silver lining and the briefest glimpse of my narrator through the clouds. I hope her travelling companions aren’t far behind.


Tomorrow would have been my first wedding anniversary. Instead I’m choosing to let it mark the beginning of my new life. My new year. My new chance. To promise myself to search around every corner for the pieces of myself that went missing until I feel whole again. To stare at the sun and play in the ocean and buy myself a pair of really expensive shoes. To make myself good again. To be myself again. The truth is, if it were just about me I could wallow in the darkness indefinitely, but this year has brought me the biggest reason to always find a silver lining. She’s been the best silver lining I’ve found.

The icon of my fresh start. Wonder. Adventure. Beauty. Gaia.

FUN Theory

So I know this is just another painfully clever gimmick from the marketing geniuses at Volkswagen (or rather DDB Stockholm) but seriously... SERIOUSLY... it is awesome. Mission accomplished VW. You sick bastards.







PS. I also think this whole “Fun Theory” business, while clearly having an agenda, is an interesting social experiment resulting in some fantastic food for thought. Discuss.

Giving Thanks

Music Credit: Thank You by Led Zeppelin

Walking the Tightrope

On what a parent looks like:

"You know how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see he's really just hoping he makes it all the way across?"
-- My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

In spite of the emotional avalanche that was reading this book the first time around, I'm now re-reading it in the hopes of avoiding looking stupid at my new bookclub this week. I'm also studying for a Spanish quiz, trying once and for all to get my house organised and unpacked, reading over one hundred pages of art history essays on the culture of exhibiting and making appropriate discussion notes (which have to be submitted weekly thankyouverymuch), organising an oral presentation on Emily Carr at the Vancouver Art Gallery (or should I do something less entrenched in Canadiana... hmmm... perhaps I should spend another two hours online researching blockbuster exhibitions), going to the gym five days a week (and baby yoga and stroller fitness and Starfish lessons), doing never ending amounts of dishes and laundry and seriously considering moping my floor. Oh, and I'm also taking care of six month old on my own. The last few weeks it has also become a serious goal to get at least four hours of sleep a night. Here's hoping.

Art Prodigy (Blow Your House In)

If you're a regular here you might remember this. Well, Gaia and I spent this morning at the MacKenzie Art Gallery and as always she came home with a lot to say. Perhaps I need not state the obvious but come on, clearly she's an artistic genius. Foisting my dreams on my child - who me?

G – Mama, I wanted to talk to you about the exhibition we saw today if I may.

Me – Of course. Did you enjoy it?

G – Well, it was nice to go to the gallery, as always. I do so enjoy contemporary art. But I’m left troubled by some of the issues being addressed by Vernon Ah Kee.

Me – Was it the faces? They are a little scary.

G – Don’t patronise me. While the faces were a little disturbing I wouldn’t demean them by referring to them as “scary”. Please. I thought they were a very appropriate and moving depiction of the artist’s view of how others see the aboriginal community. The hollow, black eyes and mouth offering a clear vision of a silenced, disrespected people. I found them moving.

Me – Oh.

G – I also enjoyed the exhibition title and how it suggests a re-examination of the story of the Three Little Pigs from the perspective of the wolf. I’d never thought about how we only hear one side of the story and how Ah Kee encourages us to consider different perspectives such as the pigs as colonisers taking the land from the wolf and the acceptance of a villainous characterisation and the validity within that construct.

Me – How do you know the story of the Three Little Pigs? I don’t remember reading it to you.

G – You know I do read when you’re not around. Seriously mother, can you focus? As I was saying, I just think his point of view, as an Australian aboriginal has so much resonance here in Saskatchewan with our own aboriginal community being as large as it is. He really spoke to some universal issues. The work has brought up a number of troubling issues in my mind, ones that I think are important to bring to the forefront. My hope is that exhibitions like this one might get people talking about their own biases so they can eventually be deconstructed.

Me – Wow. That’s a great point. You know, I thought it was really interesting, at the artist talk on Friday as Ah Kee was explaining his point-of-view, how he noted perhaps the wolf was trying to warn the pigs about a meteorological phenomenon (the wind that eventually “blew their house in”) or perhaps it was all just a misunderstanding because the wolf and pigs spoke a different language or came from different cultures.

G – Yes, well I would comment on that but you chose to attend the event on Friday on your own. Ahem.

Me – Gaia-bear we talked about this, it was an evening event and you know you get cranky if you’re not in bed by 8:00pm.

G – Whatever you say.

Me – Can we move on?

G – I suppose. Beyond the content I also found the presentation of his work quite striking – the row of faces and the large, bold words on the walls. In fact, the text reminded me of the work of Jenny Holtzer, who I know you enjoy, and the use of simple but evocative text to convey a message.

Me – Yes, I had made that connection as well.

G – Oh? You didn’t say. That’s convenient. Anyway. I also thought the large portrait of his grandfather was beautiful. It’s my understanding the artist does a number of these of his family members and that they have some correlation to the black and white archival photos of the Australian aboriginal community. I think it’s moving to take something used to classify or rationalise a people and transform it into a media that offers some dignity and respect.

Me – Speaking of portraits, did you enjoy the student exhibition we went through? You know, that’s the project I was working on last year while you were still in my belly.

G – I know, I remember.

Me – Oh do you...

G – Of course. It really was amazing though, to see two years of work from students up there in the gallery. I’m so looking forward to meeting the artists at the opening this weekend.

Me – Yeah. Me too.

Vernon Ah Kee: Blow Your House In is on at the MacKenzie Art Gallery until January 3, 2010. The exhibition is a culmination of the work he did as a artist-in-residence with the gallery this summer.

Looking In, Looking Out: Qui suis-je maintenant? is on until Februrary 28, 2010. It’s an exhibition of work by students who took part in an incredible bridging project which aimed to bring youth from different 'cultures' within Saskatchewan (specifically École Monseigneur de Laval, Sacred Heart Community School, Scott Collegiate, Michael A. Riffel High School and Chief Kahkewistahaw Community School) together to explore their identity and the identity of others through engagement with the variety of work displayed at the gallery from 2007 to 2009. Students got the opportunity to tour the exhibitions and respond to them with the help of a number of talented artists. Their finished work ranges from three dimensional plaster masks to Warhol-esque portraiture to video screen tests to beadwork and more. They also had the opportunity interact with each other, facing preconceived notions of their differences and breaking them down as they recognised all the ways in which they could relate. I feel incredibly lucky to have been a part of this amazing adventure while working at the gallery last year and am so looking forward to celebrating in the achievements of these students at the opening on Sunday, September 20th (1:00pm-4:00pm). If you’re in town I highly recommend you join us. It’s truly a unique and inspiring exhibition.

Decir Adios

Tonight I had fully intended to finish an epic post about just what G and I had been up to for the month of August when posting was nearly non-existent. Yup. That was the plan. Except I've just arrived home from a particularly confusing Spanish class and I'm currently in engendered-language-conjugation hell and suddenly I feel like what I actually need to do is sit in front of my already well-worn copy of ¡Hola, amigos! and hundreds of flashcards until I can miraculously speak enough Spanish to a) quell my increasing level of panic and b) pass a quiz on Thursday. And before you say it, I'm well aware that we're in week TWO of THIRTEENEFFINGWEEKS of classes and inevitably it's only going to get harder from here but if I feel obliged to mention that should you bring this up I might (read: will) respond with a swift kick to your manjunk/ladybits.

In liu of my epic post please enjoy this:


"Y la verdad es que me siento solo pues nunca te podre olvidar/Y la verdad es que me siento libre aunque las noches sean de soledad/Y la verdad es que te llevo adentro pues ocupaste tu lugar/Y por tu bien espero que no vuelvas pues la vas a pasar muy mal."
-- Decir Adios by Amen (from Lima, Perú)*

I had wanted to include this song in my favourites from my Sad Bastard playlist but I couldn't find it online (turns out I had the title wrong in my iTunes which clearly only adds to my level of I'LLNEVERLEARNSPANISH panic). It was one of the first Spanish songs Jose ever played for me and it remains the saddest. I don't think I'll ever forget what it felt like to listen to his voice translate the lyrics for me as the song played on a loop in the background and I sat on the edge of his bed staring at him, smelling him, melting into a virtual puddle of semi-pathetic-woman-obsessed-with-Latin-man goo. Did I mention things we're a little rocky in the beginning. Um... yeah. Enjoy.

* The title, in English, is Saying Goodbye and the lyrics (translated roughly by me with the jist of the meaning given more weight then a word-for-word translation) are "And the truth is I never feel alone because I can't forget you/And the truth is that I feel free but the nights are lonely/And the truth is I carry you inside but someone will take your place/And I hope that it is not you because you are bad for me."

Easily Irritated?

Note to Readers: This post contains the word vagina and a brief nod to the fact I might have had sex once before and plan to do so again in the future. If this seems like it might be verging on TMI then please avert your eyes. Dad, I'm looking at you here.

In addition to sorting out my iPod I thought I should also give birth control some consideration now that I'll be in the same country as my husband. Not that we don't love Gaia but somehow I don't think the "what are the chances?" form of contraception is gonna cut it anymore. I know, I know, you'd think I was sixteen*. Anyway. Apparently birth control is a hot topic at the moment because not only did I read a topical post from my favourite Mommy-blogger this morning but I also had a chat about NuvaRing with a friend the other day. The fact that her doctor suggested it knowing she, like me, hates the pill was enough to warrant giving it a little of my google time before seeing my own doctor this Wednesday. As far as I can tell it seems pretty similar to the pill except you don't have to remember to actually take a pill every day (which was never my issue). Then I stumbled upon something I've never seen before, among the list of conditions that might make NuvaRing a not so great option was a warning for women who suffered from "any condition that makes the vagina get irritated easily." Hmmm.

Well I'll tell you, its not real happy with Immigration Canada either. I guess NuvaRing's not for us.

* Seriously. I'm obsessed with MTV's 'Sixteen and Pregnant' and every single girl is like "well, we used protection about half the time but he didn't really like it and then we just thought it wouldn't happen to us" and I simultaneously judge them while attempting to feel superior because COME ON, the doctor told me I probably wouldn't get pregnant without fertility therapy. I say attempting because by the end of the episode I'm always hit with the realisation that the only thing that separates me and these girls is the fact that I'm twenty-seven and they're still in highschool.