It's my birthday today. I'm 37. I have no university degree, I'm overweight, unschooled in conventional North American female grooming techniques (what do you mean I can't keep the same mascara I used twice a year for seven years? it's not still good?), have rapidly graying hair, wrinkles, occasionally sincerely lack communication skills to the determent of relationships and were I to have a child at this point in my life? I'd be cooking with soft boiled eggs.
On the other hand, when my Mom was this age she was residentially challenged with two small children and only her winning smile to turn to. When my maternal Grandmother was this age she was trapped. I have a groovy husband, the best imaginable friends, a nice budding new career, a pretty house and a cute cat. I'm eating an apple and can smell the coffee brewing downstairs. Mostly I communicate well and take great pleasure from being able to help the people who bless and populate my life. And although I'm working at being healthier (with the working out each day and the aforementioned apple) I'm not going to have some sort of crisis if I'm never a size 10 or 8. Some days, (shhhhh) I even like my fat. The aforementioned husband likes the gray. The lines are (mostly) from laughing. Today I have a business meeting at 10, to discuss helping out with a pilot pitch for a new TV series that I really believe in, and later on today am helping out one of my favorite musicians with a four song video demo. Both are (although heavily discounted) paying gigs. I love being a wedding officiant, and am really looking forward to the documentary on same sex marriage we're going to work on this year. We don't have funding and we'll be able to do it anyway because of the contacts I have and the fact we have the equipment and software necessary. If I really think about it, there's stuff I've don't I'm not proud of and choices I would have made differently with the benefit of hind sight, but over all I have no regrets. And the lady at the local bakery just gave me a pretty blueberry pastry and sang happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday to me indeed. :-)
Friday, February 08, 2008
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
On the one hand, I'm officially set up to have what could be the most interesting birthday yet, with a business meeting in the morning and a music video gig on Friday, maybe tea later on.
On the other hand, there's a strike in the shadow this week. We hadn't talked in a while but I remember how cool and together she was every time we did. Nothing was insurmountable, she was flexibility and competence personified. In a colleague, you crave that sort of thing and when you develop a personal relationship with the person, you feel blessed. I didn't believe her the first time she told me that she had adult children, she just looked too young - she brought "aged well" to a new level. She was joyful, even tempered and accountable - a stunning example of what is fine and good in humanity, in my opinion. She was very supportive of people when they were sad or sick too, understanding the nuances and ripple effect of loss. It seems that she had a good deal of support and love around her these past years when the cancer came back to claim her. It's been a while since I saw her last and I don't know if I can say I'll miss her more now that I know I won't see her again, it's not like that. When that kind of light goes out I feel sad for the world. It's like a species becomes extinct. No more river dolphin. No more Patricia. Rest beautifully, nice lady. I'll try to keep in mind what I learned from you and carry it forward as best I can. Apologies in advance if I screw up now and then.
On the other hand, there's a strike in the shadow this week. We hadn't talked in a while but I remember how cool and together she was every time we did. Nothing was insurmountable, she was flexibility and competence personified. In a colleague, you crave that sort of thing and when you develop a personal relationship with the person, you feel blessed. I didn't believe her the first time she told me that she had adult children, she just looked too young - she brought "aged well" to a new level. She was joyful, even tempered and accountable - a stunning example of what is fine and good in humanity, in my opinion. She was very supportive of people when they were sad or sick too, understanding the nuances and ripple effect of loss. It seems that she had a good deal of support and love around her these past years when the cancer came back to claim her. It's been a while since I saw her last and I don't know if I can say I'll miss her more now that I know I won't see her again, it's not like that. When that kind of light goes out I feel sad for the world. It's like a species becomes extinct. No more river dolphin. No more Patricia. Rest beautifully, nice lady. I'll try to keep in mind what I learned from you and carry it forward as best I can. Apologies in advance if I screw up now and then.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Snowday
Friday it snowed. Saturday I went out to take some pictures of it. I absolutely love snow. I don't ski or snowboard, it's unlikely that I'll ever successfully snowshoe and thanks to a head injury in my late teens (which also happily resulted in a nearly constant state of bliss) I'm not going tobogganing again any time soon. I don't enjoy the sports and recreation of winter, and I'm not actually a big fan of the cold. But I do like how snow transforms landscapes.
And I like how the sun takes it sweet time to drag it's gaseous ass out of bed, and ducks out from work early when the boss's back is turned, gives us celestial right to do the same. I like how everything is slowed by slush and shadow to a thoughtful crawl. I like how nature lays a smack down on technology, and with all our marvels we must heed the "I don't think so" of her inclinations. I like how we have to slow down.
We had a lot of snow where I grew up, mounds of it. Snow banks up to four feet tall were common by roads, on the patch of public grass or ditch that separated the road from the side walk. You see these green strips in the suburbs but not downtown. In small towns, they’re nearly everywhere. You could hide from cars, spy on them. They made perfect siege walls for snowball fights, stuff of legends. These were often frozen on top, flat, and you could run along them at super hero height. It's a big deal when you're seven.
Snow banks by parking lots could have a warren dug out in them for careful children, who would smooth the walls with water to freeze and help the forts endure, pepper them with treasures and listen for snow plows, getting out before machines could wall you in.
Heavy snow, and I remember ice and drifts and windows done over by frost, turning ever room into a chapel of grey and glittering light. This was my childhood in winter, so these are my memories in snow.
Not every place in the world curls up to sleep for a season, but I'm glad I live in one. The care we have for each other carries us through, and I think that's a good thing to be reminded of.
The world turns inward and so can we, fortify our insides and get ready for another year. Select which seeds to plant in the coming weeks, plan what we choose to harvest. Physical seeds, metaphorical seeds - which ever. Whether the plan is to grow a cabbage, strengthen a career, dust off a resume, plan an escape - whatever. Imbolc is the time of year to do that, to identify and plot and scheme and prepare for the life we want.
I'm glad we had a snowy Imbolc this year, that I have good memories of snow, that I have friends to love to see through and see me through icy times. And I'm really glad I got the big container of hot chocolate. I think I'll grow parsley and roses and a documentary this year. But there's still some time to think about it, the snow is still thick on the ground.
Friday it snowed. Saturday I went out to take some pictures of it. I absolutely love snow. I don't ski or snowboard, it's unlikely that I'll ever successfully snowshoe and thanks to a head injury in my late teens (which also happily resulted in a nearly constant state of bliss) I'm not going tobogganing again any time soon. I don't enjoy the sports and recreation of winter, and I'm not actually a big fan of the cold. But I do like how snow transforms landscapes.
And I like how the sun takes it sweet time to drag it's gaseous ass out of bed, and ducks out from work early when the boss's back is turned, gives us celestial right to do the same. I like how everything is slowed by slush and shadow to a thoughtful crawl. I like how nature lays a smack down on technology, and with all our marvels we must heed the "I don't think so" of her inclinations. I like how we have to slow down.
We had a lot of snow where I grew up, mounds of it. Snow banks up to four feet tall were common by roads, on the patch of public grass or ditch that separated the road from the side walk. You see these green strips in the suburbs but not downtown. In small towns, they’re nearly everywhere. You could hide from cars, spy on them. They made perfect siege walls for snowball fights, stuff of legends. These were often frozen on top, flat, and you could run along them at super hero height. It's a big deal when you're seven.
Snow banks by parking lots could have a warren dug out in them for careful children, who would smooth the walls with water to freeze and help the forts endure, pepper them with treasures and listen for snow plows, getting out before machines could wall you in.
Heavy snow, and I remember ice and drifts and windows done over by frost, turning ever room into a chapel of grey and glittering light. This was my childhood in winter, so these are my memories in snow.
Not every place in the world curls up to sleep for a season, but I'm glad I live in one. The care we have for each other carries us through, and I think that's a good thing to be reminded of.
The world turns inward and so can we, fortify our insides and get ready for another year. Select which seeds to plant in the coming weeks, plan what we choose to harvest. Physical seeds, metaphorical seeds - which ever. Whether the plan is to grow a cabbage, strengthen a career, dust off a resume, plan an escape - whatever. Imbolc is the time of year to do that, to identify and plot and scheme and prepare for the life we want.
I'm glad we had a snowy Imbolc this year, that I have good memories of snow, that I have friends to love to see through and see me through icy times. And I'm really glad I got the big container of hot chocolate. I think I'll grow parsley and roses and a documentary this year. But there's still some time to think about it, the snow is still thick on the ground.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
As proof that I suck at updating this blog (damn you facebook) this was a month ago. Trip to Allen Gardens, a free conservatory in an arguably sketchy bit of town. By "sketchy", the park it's in is characterized by (quoting city project planning docs here) emotionally disturbed and marginalized persons. Since this basically discribes myself and many of my friends, Kelly and I braved the weird and trundled off on a freezing day to enjoy and take pictures of this historic collection of public greenhouses.
Mmmmmmmm. Before the days of archetorture and crystaline entities attacking the ROM, people built stuff that looked like this. Nice.
Most PG rated statue of Leda and the Swan award goes to: winnah! It's nice to see these two finally getting along.
Hot. Very hot. No place for parkas, this particular green house. There are actually six greenhouses together but the cactus house is definately the warmest. Beautiful collection of cacti abound. I can't, however, look at any cactus without David Bowies version of the song of the same name going through my head. Which is not unwelcome at all.
This is the main, middle section and the place where I've conducted two weddings. For anyone thinking about it, Allen Gardens is a fantastic place to get married, brilliant for photos and you're utterly connected with nature while being protected from the elements. As an added bonus, although we didn't see any that day, occasionally winter fat squirrels deek in to the Palm House through the open windows up top to run up and down the tropical plants. A sight everyong should see at least once in their lives - sorry, no pix, you'll have to visit.
I just really like this, like Gods rain switch or something.
I screwed up a lot of pictures of this particular flower. I still don't think I got it right. So very pretty in person. Around this time a group of people from a wedding accosted us and demanded to know where to stand. "Dude, I don't know". "Aren't you our photographer?" "Nope." "Well, where is she?" ".....um, delayed?" I must look like I have answers. I do, they're just not always good ones.
I liked this too. Not sure why.
Mmmmmmmm. Orange flowers.
I was not super close to this leaf, nor is this a special nimble lens. It's just a really big freaking leaf, about four feet of planty goodness.
Allen Gardens is for everyone, walking or wheeled. Again - nice.
We did meet one of the proprotedly marginalized persons out front and had a nice conversation that went something like this:
Old lady in santa hat: Hi!
Me: Hello!
Kelly: (runs away to takes pictures of dogs)
OLISH: You girls taking pictures??
Me: (looks down at rather large Canon XT I'm holding) Yup.
OLISH: It's COLD.
Me: Sure is. Warm in there though. (guestures to greenhouse)
OLISH: There's a falcon around here somewhere. Two guys was here last week taking pictures, and they got some of it.
Me: Really? Have you seen it today?
OLISH: Nah, but it liked having it's picture took.
Me: How could you tell?
OLISH: Well, as soon as it saw them, it was sitting up over there, and when it saw them it stuck out it's wings like this (here she sticks out her arms and begins to impersonate last weeks bird) prancing around like it's Britney Spears or something. Posing!
Me: Well, hopefully not entirely like Britney. That would be sad for a falcon.
OLISH: I know! It's like no one's gonna tell her she needs help.
Me: Not one honest friend. And no privacy, it would be a terrible way to live.
OLISH: Tell you what, if I knew her, I'd be like c'mere girl, you and me are going to the Betty Ford.
Me: Now see, you're a good person. It would be nice for her to have a friend like you.
OLISH: (beams) Hey! There he is!
Me: ....who?
OLISH: (looks at me like I'm on drugs) The FALCON!! Up there! Take a picture!!! Quick!!
Me: Oh, hey, thanks! (can't get zoom lens out quick enough to get a good shot, shoot futiley to the sky anyway to show her I'm trying to take her advice. When I get home I find I actually have five distant images of the falcon) Bye now, take care!
Kelly: Hey, is that a falcon?
Me: Yeah, and she's worried about Britney Spears. (Kelly looks at me like I'm on drugs) The old lady in the santa hat. It's irrelevant to the falcon. (and here I envied the falcons view, still wishing it would drop a bit closer)
More later. Likely the snow pix from today.
Mmmmmmmm. Before the days of archetorture and crystaline entities attacking the ROM, people built stuff that looked like this. Nice.
Most PG rated statue of Leda and the Swan award goes to: winnah! It's nice to see these two finally getting along.
Hot. Very hot. No place for parkas, this particular green house. There are actually six greenhouses together but the cactus house is definately the warmest. Beautiful collection of cacti abound. I can't, however, look at any cactus without David Bowies version of the song of the same name going through my head. Which is not unwelcome at all.
This is the main, middle section and the place where I've conducted two weddings. For anyone thinking about it, Allen Gardens is a fantastic place to get married, brilliant for photos and you're utterly connected with nature while being protected from the elements. As an added bonus, although we didn't see any that day, occasionally winter fat squirrels deek in to the Palm House through the open windows up top to run up and down the tropical plants. A sight everyong should see at least once in their lives - sorry, no pix, you'll have to visit.
I just really like this, like Gods rain switch or something.
I screwed up a lot of pictures of this particular flower. I still don't think I got it right. So very pretty in person. Around this time a group of people from a wedding accosted us and demanded to know where to stand. "Dude, I don't know". "Aren't you our photographer?" "Nope." "Well, where is she?" ".....um, delayed?" I must look like I have answers. I do, they're just not always good ones.
I liked this too. Not sure why.
Mmmmmmmm. Orange flowers.
I was not super close to this leaf, nor is this a special nimble lens. It's just a really big freaking leaf, about four feet of planty goodness.
Allen Gardens is for everyone, walking or wheeled. Again - nice.
We did meet one of the proprotedly marginalized persons out front and had a nice conversation that went something like this:
Old lady in santa hat: Hi!
Me: Hello!
Kelly: (runs away to takes pictures of dogs)
OLISH: You girls taking pictures??
Me: (looks down at rather large Canon XT I'm holding) Yup.
OLISH: It's COLD.
Me: Sure is. Warm in there though. (guestures to greenhouse)
OLISH: There's a falcon around here somewhere. Two guys was here last week taking pictures, and they got some of it.
Me: Really? Have you seen it today?
OLISH: Nah, but it liked having it's picture took.
Me: How could you tell?
OLISH: Well, as soon as it saw them, it was sitting up over there, and when it saw them it stuck out it's wings like this (here she sticks out her arms and begins to impersonate last weeks bird) prancing around like it's Britney Spears or something. Posing!
Me: Well, hopefully not entirely like Britney. That would be sad for a falcon.
OLISH: I know! It's like no one's gonna tell her she needs help.
Me: Not one honest friend. And no privacy, it would be a terrible way to live.
OLISH: Tell you what, if I knew her, I'd be like c'mere girl, you and me are going to the Betty Ford.
Me: Now see, you're a good person. It would be nice for her to have a friend like you.
OLISH: (beams) Hey! There he is!
Me: ....who?
OLISH: (looks at me like I'm on drugs) The FALCON!! Up there! Take a picture!!! Quick!!
Me: Oh, hey, thanks! (can't get zoom lens out quick enough to get a good shot, shoot futiley to the sky anyway to show her I'm trying to take her advice. When I get home I find I actually have five distant images of the falcon) Bye now, take care!
Kelly: Hey, is that a falcon?
Me: Yeah, and she's worried about Britney Spears. (Kelly looks at me like I'm on drugs) The old lady in the santa hat. It's irrelevant to the falcon. (and here I envied the falcons view, still wishing it would drop a bit closer)
More later. Likely the snow pix from today.
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