A debutant in Hyena's Clothing

News and Updates - the Photography Edition

2012-01-16T14:16:00.000-08:00

Alright,
I know I am a full 2 weeks late for the ol' New Year's Reflections thing but timeliness has never been my forte, has it?

I just wanted to write a little bit about the things that happened last year, and the things i want to make happen in the coming one. So bear with me while i do that "thoughts to paper" thing that is so very useful for organising scattered motes of thought and and shaping them into somewhat cohesive little golems that vaguely resemble plans. And y'know, as always, if you see anything you like or think you want to be a part of, Holla!

haha... and now i don't know where to start. So... i guess we'll start with the most obvious. :)
Photography.

2011 was a pretty big year for me in photography, in a kind of weird way. The bulk of it was mostly spent in a complete slump, not taking many photos, not feeling inspired, not making any progress, not trying anything new, and wondering if I should just admit mediocracy and abandon it altogether - Just sell the freaking camera and pay off some debt or buy some textbooks, or groceries, or any other useful thing that might be actually useful. Then a few interesting things happened.

ONE: I was asked to shoot a wedding for some friends with my roomate and fellow photog Lauren, and we weren't just friends who were there and happened to bring cameras, we were THE wedding photographers (I've been asked to do this before and have always declined). So you know, kind of a big deal. While there was a lot of stress that accompanied this experience (not wanting to majorly fuck up two friends' big day) The pressure to actually produce something concrete - a somewhat extensive body of work that would actually be reflective and meaningful and capture all of the fun and excitement of the day- really forced me to knuckle down and be more thorough and deliberate with my work, and not rely on happy coincidences and lucky shots (which i admit that i do far too often). It forced me not to be a lazy photographer because i cared about what i was doing, and that was an invaluable experience, so thank you Kristin and Mason for giving me that opportunity.

TWO: a street artist whose work i photograph regularly got in touch with me via the interwebs to ask about purchasing a print of one of his pieces. We got together for a little Hi-How-Are-Ya? and a Pleased-to-Meet-You and ended up chatting away for hours, long into the wee hours of the morning. We've hung out fairly regularly since then. And the conversations are always pretty noteworthy, and usually end up forcing me to think a little bit about they whys and ways i think about and do things. This dude Looks like a punk rock wizard, is a seasoned train hopper, a graffiti artist, a teller of tales, an Art and Canadian Poetry and Literature snob, is funny as hell and could give a fuck what anybody else thinks about him. He's old enough to be my dad and is hands down one of the coolest people i've met. So yeah, it seems like i've found myself a bit of a mentor... Which i've never really had before, and is a pretty cool thing. Currently in the works: he's looking at my archives and picking out themes (some obvious and deliberate, others more subtle) and juxtaposing pieces i would never have thought of combining, earmarking prints for an art show. FUN! And the feedback and insights that are coming out of it have been tremendously useful, something i am hugely grateful for.

THREE: I shot two more professional gigs (this series of pet/staff portraits for Blair animal Hospital and an event photography for a local accounting firm's Christmas party - doing circulating candids and manning a photobooth) and actually managed to make a little money from my hobby. Its not much, but it covered my bills for a month, and was once again a source of positive stresses, a wee push outside of my comfort zone and and a huge confidence booster when the reviews came back glowing. Nobody called me a fraud, or hated their photos, or demanded their money back, and some people wanted MORE.... :)

FOUR: I spent a little money and i learned some new stuff. In November I actually took a film photography class at SPAO and for the first time ever shot and developed my own film and made my own prints - a giant step in the direction of my long-standing goal - Tintype photography . And - Earlier in the year, i met up with local photographer who was kind enough to give me a lesson on the use of, and do some field testing with with my old grafflex press cam. He funnily enough, he actually ended up being my teacher in the film class. Small world, huh? Also, After taking this course i was hunting around online for cheap darkroom gear, and i remembered a little tickle trunk of film goodies that one of the vets i worked with had given me two years ago. I'd rummaged through it when she gave it to me, but didn't really recognised any of the gooddies inside it, and kind of filed it away as "possibly useful someday". I had actually completely forgotten about it, until after the last film class when was about to purchase a startup kit. When I realized it was there, I ran downstairs, dragged it out of storage, blew off the dust and cracked it open and lo and behold! Pretty much everything I needed was inside, aside from the chemicals themselves. She even gave me an Enlarger for prints! It was like winning the lottery. I think i've never felt so lucky. So then. No excuses for not giving this a proper whirl.

So as you can see, 2011 really was a year that held a lot of changes and developments for me as a photog. Its kinda crazy how unexpected it all was, too. I'd really like to try and keep that ball rolling, so here's the to-Do list for 2012

HomeDarkroom - got the stuff, haven't set it up yet, but at least now i have the gear and the know-how.
use more FILM!! - see above.
Learn alternative processes, like cyanotypes and albumin prints
Take a class on post processing - this is a BIG one, and an absolute must. Learning better and faster postpro techniques will make more professional gigs possible in the face of time constraints like school and work and will massively reduce the stress I feel about the quality of photos people are paying me for.
Gigs! - Two weddings and one Christmas party booked so far, as well as another small session of pet portraits. Its shaping up to be a busy year!
Projects & Collabs: The "Body Positive" series (see previous post) is still in its infancy, but the show of support for it already has been pretty amazing. I'm also planning a collaborative project with Lauren, which y'all are going to love and want to be a part of.
Rolleiflex camera - I WANT ONE soooo badly!
An art show, maybe!
annd a long overdue and much needed website update and overhaul - something more fluid and dynamic to pimp my (increasingly professional :-P ) wares. I haaaate working on that stuff, but i really need to just sit down and frigging do it.

So hey 20112, it turns out you have some big shoes to fill in the old creative outlet arena. Hope you're feeling as much up to the task as i am.

:D

Thanks for reading.
A.

Ripples

2012-01-15T21:24:00.000-08:00

There have been a lot of articles coming up in my news feeds lately about body image, fat-positivity, beauty standards, self confidence, and societal norms and expetations.

Maybe its coincidence, or maybe its just that i'm really noticing them because i am dealing with my own weight issues at the moment.

Either way, I think i'd really like to do a body-positive portrait series. I've been thinking about it for a while, and it really seems like something i need to do. Its going to be a bit tricky, in that it will require a little bravery on my part. Because, you know, It would be pretty fucking hypocritical for me to ask something of my subjects that i am not willing to do myself.

I've gained 30 pounds in the last year, and how i feel about that fluctuates pretty wildly. I'm not at my heaviest weight ( 220 lbs), but i've been creeping towards it steadily. Sometimes it doesn't worry me at all. Fat and Happy often go hand in hand in my life, and periods of weight loss are often the byproduct of stress (stress barfing, inappetence, insomnia, chain smoking and heavy drinking were my *unintentional*, but best ever route to serious weight loss).

Other times I feel disgusted and panicky. I SWORE, after all, that i would never let myself get so heavy EVER again, Because at my heaviest i felt gross, sluggish, lethargic and sweaty all the time, and i felt like there was nothing that i could do about it. And yet here i am... creeping up again....letting it happen bit by bit.

Sometimes i feel like a hot bitch - MADE of S-curves, exuding confidence and cockiness, and could-give-a-fuck-if-you-don't-like-it.

I haven't quite worked out the fine points of it - how i want the series to look... BW vs colour, settings etc...

But i want it to portray people who are comfortable with their bodies, who, most days, LIKE the way they look.

I want women and men, because everybody has self/image/confidence issues.

I'm calling it something like "body positive" because i don't want it to be exclusive. While weight will be an issue for some(many?) of us, some people get hung up on other bits of their bodies, or personalities or whatever (Age is another thing that i personally struggle with lately, for instance) and i want everybody to be able to participate, and everybody to be able to show off at least one thing they love about themselves. Or be able to step forward and say: "This thing, right here, in this picture? I'm ok with it."

I'd really like to veer towards nudes, so as to make it as much about body as possible, but i also don't want anyone to feel pressured in any way, so i think people can wear whatever they want, or maybe i can shoot various stages of undress/multiple outfits, and stop wherever that comfort zone ends up being.

And, finally I think i'd like to include name, age and weight. and a few simple statements or questions from the participants. I'm not sure how this will play out and am pretty open to suggestions here. Maybe something as simple as "Whats the thing you like/dislike the most about yourself?" or "What i would change/What makes me awesome" I think i definitely want to know what people don't like about themselves because that is one thing i often find shocking about others. Or maybe people should write their own blurbs.... I dunno. Haven't quite figured that one out yet.

So yeah!
it looks like 2012 has a photography project. And i guess i'm going to be IN it too.... lol
I am so very nervous,
and also
so very excited.

*nervous smile*

-Apes

I didn't know...

2011-12-28T21:20:00.000-08:00

I didn't know it was possible to actually be this kind of happy.

*shrugs*

For serious. I could almost split with it. Even in the face of a few really hairy experience this year, i have been blanketed with an unshakable sense that everything will work out in the end. Its so simple, but so pervasive, and such a nice feeling.

And dudes, let me remind you, ITS WINTERTIME.
lol
Being mad as a hatter is par for the course for me around this time of year.

I haven't felt so at ease with the world since i was a child.
And i am so so so so SO grateful to have that feeling returned to me.

so yeah.
Things'r good here. And i hope they are likewise gently fantastic where you are too.
And i don't post enough about stuff like that when it happens.
because now i'm all goofy-grinned and gushy.

heh.

that is all.

Status Update

2011-11-21T23:21:00.000-08:00

April Tuttle is crying in the dark at 2 am and posting funny things on the internet so that her friends won't suspect.

April Tuttle can't tell anymore if her mother actually likes her as a human being or if not saying "I love you" in 2 years without first being prompted is just one of those flukey things that can just happen sometimes, like the opposite of the "hot hands" myth in sports.

April Tuttle feels constantly like an impostor in her own life.

April Tuttle doesn't answer the phone because she is afraid bad news will someday find her that way.

April Tuttle is lonelier than you think, but will go to great measures to keep you at arms length.

April Tuttle is completely disgusted by her need to wallow in self pity in light of all of the people and things that are actually pretty wonderful in her life. She is horrified at the thought of having actually taken the time to type this tripe when she hasn't managed a proper BLOG post in months. She will probably just delete it and pretend that it never actually happened. She thinks also that it is probably time to take the special daylight lamp out again and start downing vitamin D supplements like they were jelly-tots.

Memory

2011-11-03T21:08:00.000-07:00

The days are getting warmer, but the air is still cool and smells like rain and rivers most of the time. Inside the house, my Grandmother and my Aunt are baking sugar cookies. Most will be shaped like bunnies, and eggs, and Easter baskets. Despite being well out of season, a few will be shaped like bats, at my firm insistence, for Batman, of course.

Too busy for baking, I am outside, climbing the picnic table and gleefully flinging myself off of it again, endlessly entertained and completely immune to self trauma. I could fight bad guys and villains all afternoon and never tire. I am invincible, as only a child can be.

Tied snugly around my neck is a ratty blue tea towel that has seen better and more dignified days. Its crocheted, covered in pale blue flowers with buttery yellow centers. At one end, the dark blue border is stretched out into two long, irregular points, where it ties under my chin. This is, undoubtedly, my favourite cape.

I am running down the length of the table, about to hurl myself through the air, when something changes...

I can't say what it is that catches my attention first. It might have been the way the light seems to disappear from the sky, siphoned away like liquid below the horizon, or it might be the way the clouds seem suddenly oppressively and suffocatingly close, grown thick with shadows and menace.

My body has frozen. I cannot move. At the end of the table i am stopped for all time, eyes glued to the rapidly darkening sky. All I can do is stare and stare. There are no sounds. The entire world has emptied. A slow panic builds, my guts make lazy loop-de loops, building waves of nausea. My throat closes, to stop them from escaping. My heart hammers in my chest.

Nothing is right.

Scream.

But no sound will come. I try and try but all the sounds are gone and i can not make any new ones.

I spend an eternity there, in a world gone still.

Paralyzed.

Waiting.

Suddenly, my body goes limp as I am swept, like a quaking leaf, into the air by a pair of strong, well furred arms. My grandfather has come to collect me. I burst into tears, at once relieved and terrified. He's looking at me, brow wrinkled in puzzlement. I bounce in his arms as he carries me towards the porch, bawling nonsense syllables and sucking air back into my lungs huge ragged gasps.

I cannot speak it. Cannot tell.

I never knew what happened.

So,

2011-03-23T00:38:00.000-07:00

I told my parents about the MRI thing tonight, about what happened at the theatre, and the referral to neurology, and waiting to hear back about when the test will be, and i told them its not really a big deal. That there's no point in worrying until somebody has answers, that it would be silly to get worked up about something that might be nothing. I told them all the things i've been telling myself all week.

But when i told them that i had given their number to my friends in case anything DID happen again, thats when my mom just started to cry and cry and cry.

There was a thick silence right before the sobs welled up, that tiny space in time where her brain calculated all the long distances between us, and all the terrible great unknowns, and all the what ifs and all the possible outcomes and end points.

Later, there was a scramble of words, as she tried to fix it, as though she could just Mom the situation into something acceptable for all of us.

Silence again, when she couldn't.

I LOVE THE INTERNET. SO MUCH.

2011-02-18T19:49:00.000-08:00

Hot off the press, the following is a FB chat dialogue with a dude who sent me a friend request. Solid Gold.

20:51

BOY: do i knw yiou

ME: you tried to date me once about 3 years ago

BOY: really?

i dont remember you

ME: lol weird

why the add then?

BOY: i dont think i added you

ME: ohhh ok. I accepted a request and thought is was pretty random

BOY: and i dont think i tryed to date you 3 years ago cause i was with a girl for three years

ME: well i do remember you

because after i said no, you gave me a deadline by which to make up my mind

so you could get back with your then ex if i said no

it was a... unique and memorable situation.

BOY: and obviously you sdaid no

ME: i did.

BOY: where you live now whats new with you

ME: in ottawa

back in school for nursing

working on an art show

trying to get to New Zealand

lol

you?

BOY: nothin you single or with someone now

ME: i'm taken

BOY: ah me too

ME: nice

*ABOUT AN HOUR LATER*

BOY: remember i told u was with someone?

ME: yeah

BOY: she was fucking with me so u know any single friends

ME: lol

ridiculous

BOY: your telling me

do u know anyone

ME: dude i would never recommend you to my friends

i don't even know you

BOY: why

well i can get to know them dude

ME: no

BOY: why cause im too good for them

ME: yes.

that is exactly why

BOY: really?

i know

well have a nice life

I miss you like I miss you

2010-12-13T23:12:00.000-08:00

So,

I'm sitting here, up to the eyeballs in textbooks, cramming for a Psych exam

and No Way should i be writing this right now

but i can't get away from it, and i can't stop crying all of a sudden.

And so... what?? A shitty self gratifying letter to the internet about... how the right decisions are the hard ones? how i'm crushed but determined? how you can love someone absolutely but know that they're not right for you?

Christ,

Lets hope not.

*takes a deep breath*

lets just rip the bandaid off

I just fucking miss you.

I miss you like crazy.

Your voice every night, the way you smell, your soft unruly curls, the silhouette of your nose,

the way you never let me take myself too seriously

the way you made me feel like i could do anything.

I miss your bellowing laugh, and shit eating grin.

I miss having my little hand disappear inside the grasp of your giant one.

I miss the stupid songs you'd make up and sing for me

I miss feeling like it would all work out okay for us.

and i can't stop crying.

bawling big blubbery ugly sobs as i struggle to type this stupid mewling note

the thought of seeing you again...

fresh tears for the stiff weirdness that will be there, and more still for the easy familiarity that won't.

I miss you.

I miss you so fucking much.

and i love you

still.

no matter what.

Rare Exports

2010-12-09T14:51:00.000-08:00

Ok,

You guys HAVE to see this movie. Jordan, Brett, Renee and i caught it at the Mayfair last night, and it was brilliant.

BRILLIANT!

Clever, novel, beautifully shot, weird, and laughs at itself in all the right places.

So.
Do yourself a favour.
Watch this movie.

Here's a short to give you a taste of what you can expect.

Rare Exports Short Film
Uploaded by Horrornewsnet. - Classic TV and last night's shows, online.

So go.

go NAOW.

Before i post the link to MASSIVE MAN.
*looks serious*

A.

Charm vs. Smarm - A dialogue

2010-11-29T17:15:00.000-08:00

April Tuttle 27 November at 17:00

"Hallooooooo"

Hi Grey Meat,
Hope you are well.

In the mad scramble to finish packing Rudy mistakenly grabbed a few of my kitchen things and took them with him...

I understand that some of it is still with you.

He has offered to purchase new items for me, but some of these things are from my family or not currently replaceable, and that hardly seems fair anyways.

Anyway, the christmas baking season is quickly approaching, and i will actually be needing most of this stuff pretty soon.

So, If you could have a look around, i would greatly appreciate it.

Heres the list:

- 2 flat insulated baking sheets
- muffin pans
- small loaf pans x3 ( 3 pans all connected together, x3)
- 3oz shot glasses x2 (kinda molar shaped)
- large (8 quart,maybe) clear glass measuring cup

Thanks a lot,
I really appreciate it.

Best regards

April

_____________________________________________________________

April Tuttle 29 November at 16:00

"re: Hallooooooo"

Not to come off as being pushy, But when can i expect to hear from you on this?

I have, after all, been waiting patiently since March.

April

____________________________________________________________

Grey Meat 29 November at 17:05

"re: re: Hallooooooo"

April,

I do not appreciate the rude tone in your last message, quite frankly it is inappropriate!

I got your message on Saturday evening and I was quite busy then and for the remainder of the weekend. I did however spend most of Sunday afternoon looking through boxes that I was unaware Rudy left behind for YOUR things. I loaded up a whole car full of these things and others and brought them to Rudy's new apartment promptly on Sunday.

I have not been able to locate all the items on the list so you'll have to deal with it.

I would appreciate in future if you did not contact me, especially if you are going to be so impatient and curt.

Grey Meat

______________________________________________________________

April Tuttle 29 November at 17:10

"re: re: re: Hallooooooo"

Grey Meat,

I'm not trying to be rude, so i'm sorry if you interpereted it that way. I was actually going for light" and non threatening. lol

Rudy failed to tell me that you had kindly gathered my things and dropped them off to him. I simply hadn't heard anything from anyone - you didn't write me an update either - so i had no idea what was going on.

Thank you.
I really do appreciate it.

Best,

April

Margaret Bourke-White

2010-11-04T20:25:00.000-07:00

I spent so much time agonizing over this paper after i handed it in... In each subsequent class my prof. would address common writing flaws, bad habits, and hallmarks of laziness in writing, and in each of those classes i would sink lower into my plastic swivel seat and think

fuck.
i TOTALLY did that.
and that.
and that....

By the time i finally had it returned i was absolutely convinced that it would be a D paper, at best. I winced when the expressionless TA slapped it into my palm and bustled on to the next outreaching hand.

There's no mark on the cover, probably to save me from public humiliation...

thats kind.

Gingerly i thumb the pages, skimming the corrections and knowing that finishing any project an hour before its due is never a great indicator for success...

and so, finally i reach the last page, and there it sits, in red.

mocking.

87%

An A born of a teary and bleary all-nighter.
This is why i never learn not to procrastinate.

The paper is after the cut, for those of you so inclined.

I have to say that, having started the paper with no idea who she was, doing the research for it was pretty inspiring. Check out her amazing photos HERE.

And also, that it feels really good to be writing anything again, even if only because i have to.

more to come, i hope.

A.

Margaret Bourke-White

Margaret Bourke-White was an American photojournalist who’s life and works inspired and informed her nation. As a woman, she carved a niche for herself in a male dominated industry and let nothing stand in the way of the career she wanted. As a photographer, she excelled at finding beauty and poignancy in in her subjects, whether human, animal or inanimate. She worked for several leading publications, including Fortune and Life magazines and was among the first pioneers in the field of photojournalism. Even in her declining years, when she suffered from Parkinson’s disease, her openness, forward thinking attitude and determination brought hope and illumination to many Americans who were similarly affected.

Throughout the span of her career, Bourke-White’s innovation and resourcefulness brought her many unique opportunities and gave her a consistent edge that kept her at the top of her field. As a student at Cornell University in 1927, she sold prints of the familiar campus buildings and common areas, captured at unique angles, to help raise funds for her tuition fees. “The Cornell Alumni News bought her photographs and when the dean of the architecture school saw them, he asked Margaret to take pictures of his home. He was so pleased with the results that he gave her letters of recommendation.” (Rubin 22) Her novel captures also piqued the interest of several of the architectural alumni, who encouraged her to pursue architectural photography. She did, which led to further recognition and fuelled her passion for industrial photography, where she was known for her ability to capture the beauty as well as the power of the machinery she photographed.

It was this unique vision that enabled her to gain entry to Soviet Russia to document its industrialization. She had heard about Russia’s Five-Year Plan and, “being interested in factories and machinery, wanted the chance to visit a country where she could witness the beginning of an industrial movement.” (Humber 108) Her employer at the time didn’t think the story would be lucrative, so she decided to pursue it independently. Bourke-White had no way of knowing if she would be allowed into Russia when she set out to photograph it. She could very well have been dismissed at the border as an outsider and sent home. As it turns out, the Russians liked her pictures, so they let her in. In one interview, she explains “I got through on the merits of some photographs I showed them. They were eager to have me take the same kind of pictures of their own industries, of which they were very proud.” (Humber 109) Once again she had created a unique opportunity for herself that would help to lay the foundations of her long and legendary career. “Excited by the drama of the machine, she made several trips to the Soviet Union and was the first photographer to seriously document its rapid industrial development. She published her work in the book Eyes on Russia (1931).” (World Bio. 455)

Bourke-White went on to be the first ever female war correspondent in the United States, working as an embedded journalist throughout World War II. She never shied away from danger and repeatedly placed herself near the front lines so she could capture images that would speak for themselves. “She was the only foreign photographer in Moscow when the first German bombs fell on July 19, 1941. Instead of going down to a shelter as she was told she went up on the roof to take pictures.” (Rubin 66) She also survived passage on a ship that was torpedoed and flew on several active bombing missions, earning herself the nickname “Indestructable Maggie”. She was there when American troops liberated the concentration camp Buchenwald in 1945 and it was her startling and poignant images which revealed the full horror and sadness of this situation to the rest of the world.

Its easy to see why Bourke-White was a role model for women. Her adventuresome career would have been an impressive one for any man to lay claim to. It is then made all the more remarkable by the fact that she was a woman existing in a time when females were often expected to take on much more domestic roles. Bourke-White simply refused a less interesting life. Even in the face of adversity, she was never one to surrender an advantage. In one interview, she candidly says “If you’re a woman, getting started is hard; but once you’re started its easier going because the fact that you’re a woman attracts more attention.” (Himber 111)

Bourke-White was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 1954. She had been suffering from early symptoms for nearly two years, refusing to let the condition impede her work, before seeking medical attention. As her symptoms progressed, she began to seek out more and more information about her condition. Over time, she built a large communications network with other Parkinson’s sufferers and their families. “By going public with the intimate details of a poorly understood and even embarrassing disease, Margaret Bourke-White did a huge service. Her status as a well-known person and a star photographer of Life gave her a logical pathway to generate publicity and she took it. Because of Bourke-White, people confronting Parkinson’s could obtain information about surgery and the latest treatments much more easily.”(Lerner 79) Being an established public figure, she was exceptionally well positioned to bring awareness of the condition to the masses. In 1959 she underwent a radical new brain surgery and chronicled the procedure and subsequent rehabilitation therapies in a photographic essay in Life magazine. “If I could give only one message after sifting down this experience, it would be to urge others to banish the secrecy.”(Bourke-White, Portrait 345) She remained fiercely optimistic and proactive even as the disease took ever increasing tolls on her body, providing hope and inspiration to thousands until she died in 1971.

Ever the master of her own destiny, Margaret Bourke-White lived a life that most of us can be envious of. She was a head-strong and savvy woman who not only carved a niche for herself in a male dominated industry but also then went on to establish herself as one of the finest photographers in it. She was among the first “embedded” journalists in World War II, a news practice that is still alive and well today. Even in illness she managed to take advantage of her unique position to bring both hope and awareness to the American public. Her legacy remains, scattered throughout more than 30 years worth of history books, in photos chronicling some of the biggest events and most poignant moments in our times. In these pages, “Indestructable Maggie” lives on.

2010-09-14T22:26:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

More burly girls

2010-09-06T14:05:00.001-07:00

Emmanuale La Gitane, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

You can never really get too much of a good thing...

Had a GREAT time at Rockalily Burlesque's Bytowne Burlesque Revue on Saturday! It was the first field test for my (new) new cam, and i have to say, i think i'm smitten! Here's one of the Belly Dancer, Emmanuale La Gitane from Toronto's Starlight Burlesque. Many many more to come!

I promise i will write a real entry soooon...

Xo

Apes.

Graflex

2010-06-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

New Cameraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

!!!!

!!

Oh! Oh yes.
yes yes yes!

Plus ten points to Art Cred.
(Minus five points to financial responsibility, but we won't dwell on that...)

SO!

What this means is
TINTYPING , ALBUMEN PRINTS and CYANOTYPES can happen.
and film noir style street shots. and the list goes on and on and on.....

Also, Bonus points for being haunted. It totally used to belong to a dead guy. :-)

more details and sexy pictures after the jump...

Rare, Vintage, Genuine Speed Graphic 4 x 5 Press Camera Kit

with Rangefinder and many accessories.

This is a classic Speed Graphic 4x5 camera. Age is indeterminate although it's obviously well over 40 years old.

Outfit includes everything as pictured including 5 standard film holders. Camera condition is good with some typical signs of wear although everything appears to be working properly. "Vulcanoid" case is a bit tattered but fully functional. The outside case shows wear and peeling in spots. Handle is intact with some light wear visible. Bellows looks good with no signs of cracks or splits. Ground glass focusing on rear is NOT cracked or chipped. Shutters and diaphragms function as they should however we are not able to do a thorough test of this rig and it is, therefore, being sold AS IS.

Lens: "Graphix - Full Synchromatic made by Wollensak for Graphix, Inc. Kodak Ektar lens: f / 4.7 127mm. Marked with lens speeds: 1, 2, 5, 10, 25, 50, 100, 200, 400. f / 4.7, 5.6, 8, 11, 16, 22, and 32. The lens has been cocked and tripped and appears to operate properly, the aperture opens and closes as indicated on the lens body. The rear shutter working okay.

Includes two Flash reflectors, two flash holders (one large one for batteries and one small one ... possibly a 'slave' flash?), five double sided 4 x 5 sheet film holders and other assorted hardware including a clamp, wire and some "un-flashed" flash bulbs ... all as shown in one of the photos above.

And a GRAFLEX 4X5 SPEED GRAPHIC VULCANOID CASE.

This camera will accept a Polaroid Land #500 4 x 5 Instant film holder which is being auctioned separately. Click on "See sellers other items" above. Together this camera and the Polariod Instant film holder would make a great pair!

IT HASN'T BEEN FILM TESTED

and must be sold "As-Is" but is none-the-less a nice addition to a vintage camera collection

(This camera is from an estate and has dust from long storage. It has what appears to be dried preservative on some of the metal parts which should clean-up easily with a solvent.)

Listing images

Perdido Street Station

2010-05-23T11:10:00.000-07:00

Oh!
Such lovliness!

I'm only a few pages in as I type this, but i can tell you I'm in capital-L- LOVE with the writing style already.

Its gritty and dark, of course, and full of absurdity and hope and menace, and populated by the monstrous and the marvelous.

And the writing is achingly gorgeous.

This book may consume me.

Stains

2010-05-04T15:17:00.001-07:00

Stains, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

Oh!

i love this one!!

sometimes messing with crap shots is the most fun.

Eight Down....Ninety Two to go...

2010-04-29T22:08:00.000-07:00

well...
Ninety.
I have two more that i haven't edited yet from last weekend...

I CAN HAZ FUTURE??!!

2010-04-29T19:45:00.000-07:00

DUDES!
I got may acceptance letter for Ottawa U. Yesterday!

I was running out the door, nearly late for work, just scanning for something completely unrelated,

and there it was.
right at the top of my inbox.
In big bold letters,

"CONGRATULATIONS!!"

i nearly shat myself.

I had been so busy bracing myself for bad news - so as not to be crushed and obliterated by disappointment - that at the last party i was at, when asked what my plans were, i pimped out nothing but plan B's! And Dootch, confused by my sudden change of tack since the last time we talked was like "Uhhhhhh.... what happened to SCHOOL...??" and looked at me like i was retarded.

sometimes i forget how awesome i am
:-P

And so, the news is good.
very very good,

They're giving me an admission scholarship of $1000 for each of the four years, and my while my RVT credits don't work towards the nursing degree, they do exempt me from having to take 12 other elective courses, if i like. (i'll be filling up the empties with journalism and language courses instead though, natch)

I can haz future.

The only thing now will be to see if OSAP comes through. Book learnins be expensive, yo.
*crosses her fingers, again*

So there will be vaccine regimens and St John's Ambulance certification courses before the fall, and a flurry of pick up shifts, and some photography fundraisers, methinks.

and direction.
and enlightenment.

and massive celebratory beers this weekend.
oh yes.

Warm Weather Nocturne - a haiku lullabye

2010-04-29T18:57:00.001-07:00

Night time Sounds of spring
Cats yowl in full lordosis
Close the window. Now.

after the after party

2010-04-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

frittering away the afternoon...

My voice is tired, my smile ragged.

It has been good birthday, celebrated in proper fashion, with much singing and drinking.

And with the finest of peeps. (save a few far flung stragglers who will be slapped once and hugged twice when next they come to ottawa town)

Its been lovely.

The stick-up kids have been busy in the warm weather, and i found hoards of new art on the way home from breakfast (Stela and Haunty, and some WZRD gng too, of course). As i was shooting, on three separate occasions, three strangers asked me to take their pictures. (which is maybe an indication that the stranger portrait series really needs to get rolling again - i mean, if the universe is practically begging me to continue, who am i to resist?)

So there's that to keep me busy this evening, with maybe an after dark run, and most definitely a pot of strong tea and a hot bubble bath.

and hopefully, finally , (finally!) I will tell you all about a dream, so rich it has been distracting me for days, a deliriously vivid snippet of a history that never existed.

talk soon.

lolz

2010-04-17T15:14:00.001-07:00

lolz, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

Bus Haiku

2010-04-10T08:54:00.000-07:00

on the long long ride to Kanata this friday morning

Mylar heart balloon
Crimson in crumpled defeat
Dumb trees grope rudely

the power of awesome will heal you

2010-04-06T18:40:00.001-07:00

the power of awesome will heal you, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

I made this for a wounded comrade back at Kanata Animal Hospital. Lets just say it was a slow saturday.... lol.

'ku

2010-03-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

Cursed by genetics,
Our children will be mutants.
Hot, Dictator mutants.

Smile becomes grimace
Three grand in dental surg. is
More than i can chew

Watch me as i disappear

2010-03-16T18:15:00.001-07:00

fader, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

an self portrait born of experiments in back lighting and kamikaze filter layering.

not baaad for a midnight fit of sleeplessness and boredom.

i sometimes find it strange to see snapshots of myself, in certain stages of my life.
Curious how they can mask the larger underlying currents, or starkly and startlingly reveal them, depending on - i don't even know what.

here
the washed out, insubstantial haziness is accurate. I have felt all winter like a dull and lusterless parody of myself, slipping further and further from my own ambitions. Nothing satisfies. I am restless, impotent and irritable, and eternally exhausted. Ghosting. A dumb spectre.

the smile vexes.
complacent or complicit
as of yet, i do not know.

anticipation

2010-02-22T20:56:00.000-08:00

I just applied for University.

I have never been so afraid of rejection in my life.

2010-02-07T20:46:00.001-08:00

golem

2010-02-04T21:27:00.000-08:00

The last few weeks have been short, and too full of mundane activity; the dull kind of busyness that eats up my spare time, and leaves not much of interest to talk about.

Today I woke up feeling ragged and washed out; flea bitten and scabby. My eyes are red and bleary, raw from trying to rub them into some kind of focus.

At work, I force feed the unfortunately named Nyx. She came to us days ago, barely alive, exhausted by the efforts of taking breath, unable to lift her head, little more than a husk. Beyond repair, we were certain she would die.

Tonight she has summoned enough energy to hate me. She exhausts herself fighting against the tiny mouthfulls of food i slowly poke into her. She gags and retches, barely able to breathe around swallowing.

You have to eat.

Her eyes and sinuses are gummed shut with viral slime. I clean the crust off of her eyelashes and wait for her to catch her breath. She wheezes and focuses her eyes on me.

improvement.

Slowly, she eats enough to qualify as a meal. She turns her head defiantly as i wipe away the thick ropes of food and drool that hang from her chin. I clean her face and paws, clean her eyes again.

In my arms i hold a tiny cat shaped golem, made of twigs and paper.
exhausted.
impossibly thin.
and yet she persists.

Rubbing her chin, i think about my two Skinny Boys being adopted, ( a thing i've been working towards for months) and am shocked by the sudden sharp slap of sadness. I gasp with the pang of the realization of how much i will miss them.

Fat tears squeeze out of my eyes and plop rudely on the back of Nyx's skinny neck. I blink them back but its too late. I think about the growing list of faces i miss and add my Skinny Boys to it. I think about all the things that keep me awake at night, and all the things i am afraid of. My cheeks burn as more tears slide down them.

Through my sobs a tiny sound reaches me. Far, far away, at the distant tips of my fingers the faintest of rumbles begins to grow.

Nyx's eyes are closed.

Her entire body rattles with an obscenely loud purr.

i am forgiven.

persist.

Two Skinny Boys

2010-01-12T23:24:00.000-08:00

Just putting out feelers for people who might be interested in adding a cat to their posse...if you're not but you know someone who might be, please forward this along as you see fit!

We have TWO handsome boys available who were surrendered to the hospital by their owner.

They are both neutered and (nearly) up to date on their vaccines (final vaccines are already paid for and will cost YOU nothing! Isn't THAT nice for a a change??! :-P ) They need a little love and fattening, but other than that are in great shape.

WILFORD is a 5 year old male, brown tabby with white paws and face blaze. He is very handsome with a long coat and, though shy at first, very friendly. He loves having his chin and ears rubbed and will head butt you in appreciation, or do his tippy-toe dance if you really get him going. His fur had to be shaved because of matting, so he looks a bit funny at the moment, but will be pret-teh gorgeous when it grows in again. This boy will likely have a big personality once he makes himself at home!

THE BOY is an 11 year old,medium haired, black and white male with the most GORGEOUS pale green eyes. He is the more timid of the two and would do best in a home where he is the only cat. (we were told that Wilford used to boss him around quite a bit... poor boy!) He's a little shy, but very very sweet and just needs a little bit of convincing that we mean to spoil him. Check those Peepers!

If you are interested, please don't hesitate to contact me for more information, OR better still...swing by the hospital and introduce yourself to the boys.

Thanks for readin'!

A.

"Did I SAY you could stop??" Wilford can hardly believe my audacity in interrupting a chin scratch to take a silly picture....

The Boy with his big green eyes. Ahhh-dorable!

thugs and marauders

2010-01-11T19:00:00.001-08:00

thugs and marauders, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

One of my favourites from the mine and Lauren's Museum trip, which i'm only just now starting to edit. RIDICULOUS.

The Cat Piano

2010-01-01T16:27:00.000-08:00

Kittens,

It has been an awfully weird christmas, and i am delighted to put the year 2009 in its grave.

Likely 1010 will be all about elbow grease and determination, which admittedly does not sound like much fun, but at least there's some semblance of a plan.

its not much, but i'll take it.

And on a totally unrelated note, and because i am sick to death of christmas, and because i was reminded of it last night in a conversation at the NYE party, and because it is pretty in a great many ways,
here is:

The Cat Piano.

J'adore.

swagger

2009-12-22T21:17:00.001-08:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

holy shit, holy shit, holy shit....

*fans the air excitedly*

you know when you make a bunch of stuff and you're just sort of like "blaaaaaaaagh....", and then you make one thing that climbs right to the top of the pile, and you look at it, and it stares you right back and shamelessly wrangles and hogties your stupid sheepish insecurities and sacrifices it on an alter of self confidence and cockiness' lovechild... and then you take a sip from the cup and you're like..... "Efff... sometimes i am awesome..."

and then you start to grin like a jerk but you don't even care...because good is just GOOD and sometimes egomania is warranted...even if i DO say so myself...

...
riiight??
you know??

well...

i think this is that one...

xo

A.

2009-12-22T18:50:00.001-08:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

trickling in...

2009-12-13T20:42:00.001-08:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

starting to edit the Bulesque shots....

:-)

more to follow.

two kinds of awesome

2009-12-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

1.

2.

maybe

2009-12-12T00:32:00.000-08:00

it might be 330 am

i might have sold some art tonight.

I might have shot up a burlesque show, after the gallery thing.

I may have stumbled into a metal show.

it possible that i drank too much

and could not find my way out of the car, when i was (Graciously!, Mercifully!) dropped off at home

and maybe, i might have to work tomorrow...

oh kittens! lets hope all the puppies and kitties are healthy tomorrow!

nothing can get hit by cars!

*crosses fingers*

i am drinky faced.

that is all.

crush and swell

2009-12-06T20:05:00.000-08:00

sooo...

i woke up yesterday feeling disgusting and feckless. Dissociative, detached, disappointed and disappointing.

Peripheral at best.

i was going to skip the show, thinking that i just wasn't up for it. feeling like i couldn't be bothered to paint on a party face, to stand in line, to go through the ritual, to disappear in another crowd.

buuuuut i missed the Shrines the last time they were in town, and i knew i'd regret not going if i skipped out on a Khan show i actually had tickets for.

So i scrubbed and showered, pulled on a dress and pair of boots, and curled my lashes.

And kittens, i must say, I'm ever so glad that i did.

I got to Babylon late, but the place was still mostly empty so i scouted a couch (skeezy, disgusting things they are but we must try not to think about that, my ducks) and drank a Stella, and shared some friendly chatter with a rather nice fellow named Matt, from Saskathchewan.

Thinking there was only going to be one opener, I hit the bar again after the first act, and made my way to the front of the stage. The floor was filling up, and i wanted to make sure to have a good position staked out for photos. I claimed an amp, front and center, and perched on the corner, scanning the crowd for Mason and Kiiks. I managed to flag them down as they came in and we chatted for a bit as the floor got tighter, waiting for round two and percolating with growing excitement.

The second act was a snarling psychobilly four piece called Bloodshot Bill that quicklly packed the dance floor and worked the crowd into a frenzy. I snapped a few shots and finished my beer, felt the music pounding all around, and began to dance. A few songs in, someone pushed his way up to the front, right beside me, and shouted a few requests at the stage. It was King Khan. He was all laughs and smiles, loving the music and the frenzy. He danced his ass off, and i did too, and soon we were bumping hips to the beat and shimmying like mad things.

Well worth the price of admission.

The fevered pitch only intensified for the main act, although i was sad to have lost my special dancing partner. :-P

The floor was completely packed with bodies, ribcage to ribcage, pushing and swelling as everyone jockeyed for a good position. I was especially glad to have staked out an amp to anchor myself to, and cheerfully defended it, slowly but firmly digging my elbows into the ribs of those trying to edge a little closer at my expense, playing the same game of dumb as my would be usurpers.

"Oh sorry! Its a bit tight isn't it?? Yeah...., There's not much room. huh."

served with a nonchalant shrug and a sheepish smile,

nothing personal. :-)

(and that, dear reader, is why the slow elbow is best, in crowds as well as in bed, It seems more happenstance than attack, but remains every bit as uncomfortble if you know where to lodge it effectively)

The band emerges, and you can feel the crowd press closer. Khan has ditched his pants and sweater for a gold glitter flapper dress with a fox head loincloth and an electric blue bob, and BBQ sports gold glitter tights and a pink turban.

The music starts and the throng is immediately jolted to life. A living thing gone mad, throbbing and swelling, howling and gnashing, It occurs to me, at this point, that i might be in over my head, after all i have never been much of a pit rat, , but i dig in and hold on, determined not to give up my prized position too easily. The crowd swells so close that the entire front row is pitched up onto the edge of the stage, scrambling to hold their ground. Photos are impossible at this point. If i let go of the amp my feet leave the floor and i begin to drift, and the flailing bodies makes framing an absurd and abstract notion.

The bouncers look completely lost.

BBq tells the crowd to fuck off and settle down.

"this is a rock and roll show, not some goddamned Edgefest bullshit"

I'm completely absorbed in staying upright and protecting my camera. A fight breaks out to my left and the bouncers are forced to wade into the action, They look like sheep at a slaughterhouse.

Hardly discouraging.

They play a few slower numbers, trying to ease the crowd down a little, and i am able to snap a few photos.

Then the torch songs run out, and they return to the irresistible beats that we all have been waiting for.

Voodoo compulsions that can't be ignored.

A koan we answer with our bodies.

There's no room for style here, no room for flashy maneuvers, just an outlet for pure energy, an urgent and immediate response. I thrash and grind in what little space i have, gone feral with fierce abandon; pushing back against the crowd when they press too close, like an enraptured porn starlet. snarling with ecstasy. pricklng with bliss.

I laugh as i find myself dancing Billy Idol style, with a fist held up in front of my face, to block unexpected elbows and other wayward bony projections from the pit.

And on and on it goes, wave after wave after wave; a crashing call to arms

I come away drenched and delirious,
By the end i am panting with exertion, grinning and gasping at once, reveling in that delicious and too-rare state of complete and utter body exhaustion.

How lovely, to be so alive.

:-/

2009-12-05T10:37:00.000-08:00

i had a little melt down in the shower this morning.

unexpected.

I think the winter light has crept up on me.

fuck.

upsetting....

2009-12-04T21:18:00.000-08:00

exhale

2009-11-30T21:59:00.001-08:00

exhale, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

my portraits of strangers series is finally, FINALLY underway. Two years after i started it, i finally took my balls out of my purse and started asking people if i could take their picture, instead of gazing at them wistfully and kicking myself for days after each and every missed opportunity.

This one made Explore on flickr today, Which i ALWAYS discredit, except, of course, when i am in it. ;-)

three cheers for progress and productivity.

Huzzah.

Take off your coat. Put a song in your throat. Let the dead beats pound all around.

2009-11-30T20:33:00.001-08:00

Monday nights are golden.

My Daddy hits town, we bust out the Beansprout and the Stella, and we tear it up until my fingers are cramped and curled like the empty, skyward-clutching grasp of a stone-dead sparrow.

It mostly sounds awful, i'm sure. Me flinging chords wildly and trying to keep up, eternally shamed by my perpetual shortage of practice since the last lesson; Dadoo carelessly noodling out embellishments and solos, politely waiting for me to catch up and telling me its not awful.

the liar.

We drink beers and Dr. Pepper. We stuff ourselves with Pho and Pizza.
We bombard each other with youtube videos while we eat. Play our favourite tunes.
We talk about mum.
We play until my brain is stuffed to overflowing, the two of us stifling yawns; until finally we must throw in the hat. Put down the picks. Go home. And crawl off to bed.

Wake up the next morning, bleary eyed and underslept.

smiling for no good reason.

.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

annnnd....

2009-11-26T22:03:00.000-08:00

I ordered some new moo cards for my upcoming schmoozefest at the Petit Mort Gallery

Behold! Double sided printing....Oooooh!!

Excitement!

Christmas stuff...

2009-11-26T21:36:00.000-08:00

I kinda feel like a douche for even making this, but some of you were asking, so here it is...

a wishlist.
http://amzn.com/w/2NV1D4QJPU79I

Also, a sexy Calendar from the Mutter Medical Museum Would be Supah hawt. :-)
Just Sayin'.

XO

A.

Matthew Mackenzie

YOU DO LISTEN!!!! I knew deep down you cared! Also...I bought a bag of festive oranges today (just saying!)

April Tuttle

no fleece vests??

Matthew Mackenzie

we'll see.....I saw one with kittens sewed right on!

April Tuttle

REAL kittens???
*claps her hands with excitement*

In an Aeroplane Over the Sea

2009-11-10T20:57:00.000-08:00

love this.

Snarrrrrl

2009-10-25T21:19:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

The Zombie walk was today.

:-D

Ghosting

2009-10-17T21:49:00.000-07:00

"There's an eclipse in your eye, where i used to shine"

"There's a ghost in my heart, trying to see in the dark"

i feel so lost without you.
ghosting
just waiting for someone to turn the lights back on.

My life is small...

2009-10-01T12:51:00.000-07:00

Forever's Not So Long from garrettmurray on Vimeo.

...and if i died today i would die alone.

Work Crush

2009-09-04T17:30:00.001-07:00

I have to write this.

I'm sitting on a train, half starved, sleep deprived, and grinning from ear to ear.

I don't know if its possible to fall in Love, - capital L LOVE, and at first sight, no less – with an entire business but I think I have a giant sized professional crush on Centertown Veterinary Hospital.

I interviewed there today and was absolutely smitten with the warmth of the place, with the level of care, with the way they look after their patients and their patients' people. For the first time in a very long time, it made me feel excited and proud to be a vet tech, and I wish very much that I had found this place sooner, instead of on the cusp between one career and another.

They are just so goood.

I won't know until later this weekend if I have the position or not. (i'll get a call either way, which is super nice) But i'm sitting here, on this train, trying to nap and I can't do it. I'm just too damned excited. Glowing with the possibility, I've just got this feeling that its all so right, that its my next step, and that I already belong there.

A part of my brain sits back and watches these flighty notions flapping against reason like birds against glass,

Dont get your hopes up, kid. Nothing is 100 percent.

But I don't care.

I want it. And I want to enjoy the suspense, and the completely punch drunk, unabashedly enamoured crushy goodness of it all.

Dear Centertown Vet. :

Do you like me?

Check YES or NO

How deliciously ridiculous.

I've decided not to entertain (court?) the possibility of disappointment until it is presented, - grudgingly acknowleded like the last scrawny little knock-knee'd kid to be picked for the gym class rugby team.

I choose cockiness. I chose jocular overcon fidence mixed with unabashed adoration. I choose to get my hopes up, fling them, with a slingshot and bottle rockets, to the moon.

I'll keep you posted, kittens.

And all of you must keep your toes and fingers crossed.

Crazy Arms

2009-08-23T18:09:00.000-07:00

My dad came home.

He drove nearly 5000 km from the west coast, through the rocky mountains, across the great flat praries, all the way back to the teeny Ottawa valley he has always thought of as "home".

I'm so glad he did.

And maybe, if i wait, my mother will too.

maybe.

He picked me up this evening for a catch up visit over dinner and a movie. We were supposed to meet up much earlier in the afternoon, but i had fallen asleep with the ringer turned off on my phone, and did not wake up until well after one. I probably needed the sleep, and he had a lot of friends to catch up with after getting back, and anyways thats just how we roll. Something about apples and their respective distance from trees, if you will.

He buzzes up to my apartment, which he has never seen before, and we greet each other with great and crushing hugs that are long overdue. We've already missed the first of our two movie choices for the evening, so i give him the ten cent tour and we drift out into the evening, still in no great hurry for movie number two.

"There she is!" He gestures with a flourish to an ancient, boxy silver van, "the old caravan, still kicking!"

He tells me all about driving through the mountains, praying against breakdown and how the old girl held up just fine, in spite of constant 30 degree inclines through the rockies, and a nearly bald tire on the front left. He's pleased by the trip, but will sell the van before its transmission dies, and while the mileage is still low.

As I slide into the passenger seat, what i remember about this van is winding down the Pacific Highway in the morning, on the way to the beach with a wetsuit on the back seat, and a surfboard crammed up the hatch, listening to Jerry Lee Lewis sing "Crazy Arms" while the mountains creep by outside. Singing along, driving one handed and trying not to spill my coffee on the on the corners...

I drink it all in.

I was young then... I find myself thinking. So young.

Christ.
It was only a year ago.
Am i really so tired?

We make our way to the Mayfair theatre in time to catch most of Woody Allen's The Purple Rose of Cairo , then head to the market for burgers at Chez Lucien.

I'm relieved to hear that my dad sounds good. I worry about him being away from mum. (and about her, being away from him) Its a weird situation, this apart-ness.

He tells me he'll be teaching music lessons and fixing up the house again, and he's already lined up a few playing gigs in the few days since he's been back and he tells me about them as we drink our beers. We talk a little bit about nursing, and the things i think i'll like about it. He laughs at me for still having my old junker of a car in the parking space behind my building.

I pull out my camera and snap a few pictures of him from across the table. I examine the display images, furrow my brow, and scold him and tell him to sit up straight.

He laughs and tells me he's an old man now.
And somehow, as i'm focusing through the lens, and just at exactly the same time as he says it, i see it.
For the first time ever. I can see it.
I see all the wrinkles in my dads forehead. I see all the laugh lines around his eyes. And i see that his beard has now turned completely snowy white.

Suddenly he has aged.

and i begin to cry.

*

2009-08-23T17:49:00.000-07:00

...

Wednesday, 05 August 2009 at 23:46

....

He didn't make it.

my favourite picture of the tiny orange boy... from the night i first brought him home - I promised Jen i would print it
and frame it and hang it somewhere
as a reminder that it is ALWAYS worth trying... even if it doesn't always work out in the end

And even if it fucking stings

The Skinny on "Squishy"

2009-07-30T12:57:00.000-07:00

UPDATE!

I brought the boy home again last night to give him another 24 hours to stabilize. Usually things either resolve or don't in the first 24-48 hours, so today is judgement day. The concern is that he needs to be stable enough to be cared for at home only over the long weekend, as i will not be able to take him with me when i leave, and i don't want him to deteriorate and suffer while i am away. So its a bit of a tricky business, this seeing into the future...

Last night the prognosis was guarded...he had signs of improvement in his demeanour - actually swatted and tried to bite the cloth when i was cleaning his face -, and his anisocoria (irregular pupil size - a sign of brain swellling/damage) had improved, Lung fields looked and sounded better...but on the other hand, his mouth breathing had worsened, and he would gasp heavily at times, especially after feeding.

Breathing is a pretty big deal. So. Anybody's guess.

He did okay at home, Edith managed to stuff some food into him and he got a sniff of Pain medication to make him feel better (It didn't kill him! YAY! - the dilution needed to dose him was RIDICULOUS!) And a diuretic to wick fluids away from his lungs and brain. There was not much improvement, but at least he seemed stable.

He had one very scary incident in the midle of the night. I woke up and he was curled up on himself like a crushed spider, panting furiously, unresponsive, Heart pounding. I thought for sure he was going to die, but as it turns out, the little guy has spunk. I dozed with him beside my head, trying to comfort him and see what happened and he eventuallystabilized again, although was still not breathing especially well.

This morning he got more medications, and seemed a little stonger, but was breathing worse than ever.
I was sure i would have to euthanize him today...

and then
out of the blue...

He sneezed a bunch of times and must have cleared his sinuses a bit... He stopped gasping...then stopped mouth breathing....then stopped puffing...and went to sleep, just like any other little kitten.

Since then he's been sleeping a few hours - must be Exhausted after all he's been through. He's eaten fairly well, although swallowing still causes him some respiratory distress...

But overall he looks a million times better.
Just like that.

spent the better part of the morning being snuggled and marveled over by everyone in the clinic. We're all hoping for a happy ending.

He's still not out of the woods, but its looking better and better, and i think he's tough enough to stick out the weekend. Ms. 'Berg has kindly offered to cat-sit for me - the big ol' softie! So i will load her up with syringes and doses and a miles long instruction list and we'll see how the little guy does...

Thanks to everyone for all the support and help and well wishing!

I will keep you posted as things develop and hopefully be able to get some happy kitten shots up tonight.

Peace!

A.

the refugee

2009-07-29T01:14:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to put a needle full of poison into his heart today.

I couldn't do it.

So i stole him and brought him home with me instead.

Girl Talk

2009-07-05T19:07:00.001-07:00

twain, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

This is Edith.

She's a real corker.

We make our own fun.

nocturne

2009-06-24T20:03:00.000-07:00

walking home from the bus stop
the city air is thick and hot
sunset brings scant relief
all that concrete...
baking us while we sleep

i trudge through clouds of patio conversation
lost snippets and curtailed sagas
philosophies without context

Outside the Mission, clustered like schoolboys, effete and grown wild
tattered men growl stories of ambush and malaise

...he woulda stabbed me
...get a knife...
...get a bottle into you...
...I'm going to beat that motherfucker!
...well...
...you know Georgie!

broken glass voices telling broken heart tales

hey buddy have you got an extra cigarette?

levity in the face of exigency

2009-06-21T20:04:00.001-07:00

so.

I've been hiding.
Feeling like a nasty little troll, for quite some time.

This weekend i emerged from my cave and found the weather was fine. The faces were friendly. Its been a pretty great two days. lovely even. and long overdue.

highlights:

Timber Timbre played with the Great Lake Swimmers at the baptist church on friday night. The sound in there was amazing and i got to read some bibles in between the acts. Leviticus is funny stuff, kids. "Two Shekels and a bad Haircut!!" heh. Pizza and beers with Tricky Dick at Jordan's place afterwards.

Saturday was productive. worked out a bit, went for coffee, bought some cake pans, picked up Ira Glass' new book, and Brett EAston Ellis' 'The Informers', cleaned the whole apartment, jammed some uke tunes and practiced singing. (singing!!) the good news is i'm not tone deaf or hopelessly awful. Just petrefied and quaking.

I had the absolute best bus ride dowtown with a lady dressed kind of like Dame Edna, all in drape-y pastels, sparkley eye makeup, draping herself across the priority seating like it was a chaise longue. She was busy making a bunch of 12 year old boys anxious with her absurd chatter. They stood in a herd shifting and fidgeting with wide, nervous eyes, averting her gaze as she bantered and coo'd at the rest of us, uncomfortable, as though her strangeness might be catching. She was nothing but pleasantness in a way that only grandmothers usually are, and when asked if she was wearing a pair of EGGS on her head - She was, in fact, as part of her spring theme- she waggled them on their springs and replied that it was only because she had such great eggspectations in life. She had a Vie en Rose bag full of ponies with elaborate names. Her name was Cassandra and i don't think i've ever regretted leaving my camera at home more viscerally. I hope i get to talk with her again.

In the evening, we ditched a party, stayed in, and just chilled. Not in a troll-ish way, but in a cozy way, which was perfect. We gorged ourselves on fancy sandwiches that Richard made and then this happened, which made us howl.

I slept like a baby and dreamed real dreams.

I got up early-ish this morning to head downtown in hopes of catching a few shots of the Rideau street preacher, but for whatever reason, he wasn't there. I always see him when i'm in a hurry. There's this softness to him, and he's got this face... Anyway, I hope he comes back. And i hope he lets me take his picture...

So it was marguerita for breakfast, Latte for lunch, and spent the afternoon hogging the comfy chairs at Bridgehead, finally finishing my bio for the website. (LONG overdue, and about the most gruelling and awful thing i have ever had to write...) THREE hours for a few tiny paragraphs! in the end, i think i got it right, and i can't say how glad i am that i don't have to think about it anymore.

Oh.
and...
Its looking more and more like i'll be heading back to school next fall.
(excitement! terror! poverty!!)
Illumination.

thats it for now.

A.

Far West Portraits

2009-06-17T19:22:00.001-07:00

Far West Portraits, originally uploaded by donc je suis.

So this is what i wish my soul looked like.

You know,

If i had one...

i love this so much...
check the series.
there's some wicked bad ass old dudes too...

HUNG!!

2009-05-01T19:06:00.000-07:00

sooo...

after much scrambling and running about, my photos are finally framed, hung, and ready to be thoroughly oggled and adored for the next month at Jun Xiang Yuan on Somerset.

as is my style, there was plenty of stress and kerfuffle before getting all ducks in a row, (the original prints i ordered for the show STILL have not arrived!! *grumble grumble, bitch bitch!*) the shortlisted pics have changed about a billion times (see below for the final, final five), and i still need to pick titles and make little placards for tomorrow, but all and all i'm counting this (perhaps a touch pre emptively) as a huge success.

oh shit! can you feel it? here comes the mushy bit...

BIG thanks to everyone who's been there to help me pull this off... (you know who you are!!) whether you've donated your sweat and tears to lug frames and prints across the city, opined on the (nit)picking of titles and images, or dutifully put in a few years worth of cheer leading duties...
i seriously couldn't have done it without you.

hope to see some of you at the show tomorrow afternoon, (just wander down somerset, you'll find it)
i'll be girlied up (new dress! new hair! shaved legs! oooooh!) and schmoozin'

did i mention there's free food??

oh, and i think post-vernissage beers will be an order, don't you??

thanks all!

A.

keeping busy

2009-04-21T18:04:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

soooo.....I ordered prints for the art show next weekend. Still need to buy more frames and have mats cut....its going to be a scramble to get everything finished in time...but i'm getting exciiiiited!! I edited this one earlier tonight, and now i'm kicking mysef for not having done it sooner and included it in the show. Curses!

more information here

2009-04-17T20:39:00.000-07:00

2009-04-17T20:36:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

sundowning

2009-04-11T15:21:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

sometimes the end isn't really an ending at all.

lixx

2009-04-04T11:36:00.001-07:00

, originally uploaded by titanium-white.

like alice falling down the rabbit hole...

epilepsy is dancing

2009-03-25T21:27:00.000-07:00

*

2009-03-22T18:53:00.000-07:00

on sunday morning i wake up early.
i prepare myself for the day ahead of me. its going to be strange.
i arrange a ride to the same small town i grew up in, escaped, all those years ago.
i need to get ready.
in the bathroom i look in the mirror. my normal self looks back. i don't look tired. my eyes are not red. i do not look distressed or distraught.
i look detached.
i frown at the mirror. Sometimes i worry that my "professional detachment" has metastasized too far into the margins of my personal life. this is definitely one of those times.

i shower. wash my hair. brush my teeth. curl my lashes. dress myself in black.

i'm excited to wear my new dress.
don't be dumb.

my legs are pasty and fish belly white, marked with too many bruises and scratches for normal wear and tear.

courtney love.

thank you, wrestling dogs and cats for a living.
i will need pantyhose, which i don't have.
i put on my shoes and my coat and so does Richard. we'll go for coffee and hosiery before we split up for the afternoon.

by the time we sit for coffee my feet are already sore and a bit red across the top where the leather edge has bitten into them. they won't rub so much once the pantyhose are on, but i'm glad to have something to focus on if things get weird.

"its just so weird", i tell Richard.

today i'm going to the wake of a girl nine years younger than me. we grew up together and our parent would go out and i'd babysit. we'd catch bullfrogs in the creek and snakes sunning on the stone walkway. we'd build forts in the woods and watch cartoons.
her name was "minnow" back then and she was the kind of kid you could tell straight away would grow up to be someone amazing.
and then she did grow up, and our families drifted and she got away from me, and now its been years and she's gone; died.
gotten away from all of us.

she was at university. told her mum she wasn't feeling well, went to bed...that was it.
she was twenty years old.

i'm the only one in our family who can make it to the wake.

"it IS going to be weird", Richard nods, "death is a pretty fucked up thing"

*

2009-03-18T19:26:00.000-07:00

it was just as we were leaving when the phone rang.

after the mad scramble to find mittens, scarves, keys, we were finally bundled against the cold, ready to tear out the door and race off to the play we'd forgotten about until the very last minute.
i laughed as my my phone buzzed obnoxiously from the coffee table where, after all the last minute commotion, i'd been just about to forget it.

i snatch it up and flip it open.

i didn't recognise the voice at first, gravelly, tight and tired, pulled from a receiver thousands of kilometers away.

its my dad.

i've never heard him sound so haggard, so frail.
my stomach wrings itself...

and he's small talking me.
and he's asking what i'm up to, how i'm doing...
and he sounds so...old.

"I'm fine..." i tell him, and then, pointedly "how are you??"

there is a microcosm of silence

my throat tightens.

"well, Prilly..." , he sighs, " i'm not too good..."

the words aren't even finished and my mouth is dry, my guts twist into knots and my brain makes a fifty-two-pick-up game out of worst case scenarios.

where is he calling from?
where is mum?
when is the last time you spoke with granny? visited??
why haven't you called??

what the FUCK is going on??

In a clear, concise, childrens classroom voice, i ask him if he's okay? is mum okay? what's happened?

i realize that its not my dad that i'm trying to talk down.
its me.
its the panic rising in my chest
its the dirty taste of metal in my mouth

my heart pounds.
his words take eons to form sentences.

in the doorway behind me, Richard has gone quiet. the whole apartment is as still as a mausoleum.

we wait stiffly for the shit to hit the fan.

******
******

2009-03-18T01:02:00.000-07:00

A photo from "One Night Stand" by Rockalily burlesque. more to come.

you happy now

2009-03-06T13:29:00.000-08:00

Ok, so,
My shift at the Good Food Company today might best be described as "Nighmarish", or perhaps "a harrowing ordeal"....(it was CRAZY busy, people were weird, people were cranky and then the cash register completely broke and half of the transactions that DID get put through were done on 'void' with no paper trail to track the numbers....wheeeee!)

I was dead tired and ready to drop by the end of the day, so i was completely surprised when one of my tables wanted to make a donation to the "Send April to Africa" fund. I said it was very nice of him and thank you very much, and please help yourself to any of the Photo prints if they should happen to please your eye.... as he left a rather large tip for the table, and i assumed that that was that.

Needless to say i was completely stunned when he wanted to make another transaction for a 250.00 donation for the trip. (!!!!)
I protested that it was too much, and he said, no, I'd been serving him and his family for years, and he strongly believes in helping out people within the community and he thought it was a good cause, and that was that. !

so yeah! pretty awesome!

then at the end of the shift i ended up with a huge wad of tips from the crazy busy day...and when i got home and checked the mail - expecting a huge cell phone bill and not much else- there was a government cheque for 600 bucks in outstanding GST credits. So all told, Travel fund is up a cool 1000 bucks in one amazing day.

awesome,
awesome,
awesome,

*squee!*

South Africa Journal pt 6

2009-02-08T15:50:00.000-08:00

let me start by saying
first that i am feeling much better, thank you. I'm quite happy to be eating solid foods and enjoying the aromas of a cooked meal, instead of fleeing the room with a hand clamped desperately over nose and mouth, praying against fluid loss. lol

it has been too long since i've written anything properly. Everything seems too far gone to be described adequately...locked up in visual snippets in my brain.

I still have not told you about the trek through the draakensberg, up the white-knuckle Sani pass in a torrential downpour, waterfalls washing over the road...driver wiping sweat from his brow as he maneuvers hairpin turns at 45 degree inclines... Then arriving at the top to face the glares of the surly Basotho herdsmen...alarming in their intensity... finding the road conditions on the way down in even worse shape than on the way up.

about arriving for a three day mountain hiking and horseback riding adventure, only to discover that the only footwear i have at my disposal is the ninety nine cent pair of flip flops on my feet.

about riding up the foothills of the underberg, a potato sack of a horseman after so many years out of the saddle...and having your breath stolen my the scenery...and thinking "this is middle earth's Rohan ...this is Narnia...this is the underberg of Oz..." and waiting for snarling wargs and Rohirrim to explode from the rocky outcroppings....and lauging at your own extreme nerdiness...

about being bored to tears by the friendly, if dull, chatterings of a travel guide who happens to be your only company in the stillness of a night spent in the absolute middle of nowhere...

or about rock climbing 35 meters of monteseel crag, standing on a ledge the size of a bottle cap over a yawning zulu valley, looking down at eagles floating on the updrafts....wondering what hidden nook to wedge a toe into, and hoping to find it before my legs and arms give out competely....

or about the 5am excitement and hustle of a troop of baboons being captured from their pen, television crew on hand, to be released into the wild and learn how to be baboons...

or about Durban's Sexpo, which sadly, turned out to be epic only in its banality. For all the hype, it barely managed to provide all the excitement of a weekend macrame fair at the Carleton Place Arena. (lets skip the story about that one then, shall we?...Ah...except perhaps for Mr. Pricasso...who would paint your portrait with the tip of his penis...he deserves a mention, at least...)

or even the every day happenings at a wildlife rehab center....rescues...endless preparations of fruit and chicks...force feeding delicate baby birds and (hoping they won't have died under your tender administrations by the next time you see them - so stressful!)...picking ticks from the leathery hides of tortoises...wild vervets ransacking the volunteer house like a pack of thieves...bottle feeding a wildebeest...

and now its all winding down....
suddenly (SUDDENLY! ) i have only a week left to go and its just not enough. no where NEAR enough time... I still have not been surfing, or made it to the north beach and Indian Spice markets...i have not been sea kayaking...i have not taken enough pictures or written enough words. I haven't haggled with merchants over trinkets for my little sisters...i haven't seen enough of the tiny villages...haven't heard enough zulu folklore...
I haven't had nearly enough time to take it all in...

and i haven't had any sort of epiphany about what to do with myself once i get home...that was also high on the list of things to do...
this trip was supposed to provoke some life changing revelation...or at least point the direction to the next stepping stone...
it seems strange to think about heading home and just carrying on, as usual...as though nothing more exciting than a sneeze had happened over the last two months...only i don't think thats it either...
things will be different...(will they?) (yes? yes. i will make it so)
i guess what i'm saying is that i can't precisely say just exactly how...i guess what i'm saying is that i still just don't know...but i get a sneaky feeling that something is about to percolate...

and there are a few things i'm looking forward to at the end of the journey...
Snuggling up with Steve French under a down duvet on my own bed, cheese and cracker suppers with hot butternut soup and cold beer, wearing sweaters against the canadian cold....,snow. Gypsy Jazz at the Avant Garde bar, projects, a good latte. little things.

Planning the next big trip.

..............

and i guess what i'm saying now is

Goodnight.

XO

A.

translucent

2009-02-04T15:19:00.000-08:00

Amy said i look like a ghost today, after having been so sick.

tonight i feel like one.

a little bit lost
a little bit lonely

South Africa Journal pt 5

2009-02-03T15:49:00.000-08:00

I think i have heat stroke.

:S

For the past 4 days I'd been gently queasy, but on and off, and only enough to cause mild discomfort. I ignored it, feeling more inconvenienced than incapacitated, but then yesterday the smell of foods started making me gag, and i started having hot and cold flashes and stomach pains.

(yesterday i was showing the new girl, Lucy where the meal worms are kept for the birds to eat, and asked her if she was squeamish about them. Of course, as i shook up the box i caught a big whiff of the smell of them, and had to run from the room, gagging and retching. perfect! When i ran into the kitchen to get some cold water to recover, someone had just microwaved some meaty confection, and i had to drop my glass and run outside instead)

chopping chicks for the raptor feeds is completely out of the question.

last night i had an olfactory nightmare featuring just the smells of goose shit and rotting chicken. I had to get up and check my bedding several times, it was that convincing.
worst dream. EVER.

I took the day off today to lie in bed and try to recover. Slept like crazy, which i think i really needed and I was starting to feel much better in the afternoon, just a bit weak and occasionally dizzy. Ate some salad for supper but then the smell of baked potato made me start retching and i had to leave the table.

so as of right now, i'm a hardcore raw foods vegan.
lol
no one could be more surprised than me.

I think tomorrow i will stay in bed again. just getting up to feed the wildebeest in the morning, afternoon and evening. Hopefully the rest will get me over the hump and i'll be back at full speed after that.

*crosses fingers*

XO

A.

South Africa Journal pt 4

2009-01-25T16:37:00.000-08:00

I had been going to write a proper note about rock climbing Monteseel Crag (stunning) and various sundry happenings (Bunny Chow! Baby Monkeys! Midnight goose capture! Adventures with flying insects! Shisha Bar!) over the last couple of days but my belly is full of steak and barbequed pineapple, and the mosquitoes tonight are atrocious; made cocky by the humid afternoon drizzle. I'm too sluggish and full to swat at them properly, so i'm conceding defeat and heading back to the Guest House.

Tomorrow morning Lene and i will head to the Drakensberg Mountains for a handful of days. This is a place where Tolkien was inspired by the mountain landscape. We'll be horseback riding there. And venturing into Lesotho to creep up the Sani Pass and visit some Basotho villagers and markets. *crosses fingers for stunning Photo opps*

dudes.

six weeks is not nearly enough.

*sigh*

South Africa Journal pt 3

2009-01-19T16:21:00.000-08:00

We are sitting outside in the night time breeze, sprawled on the office steps, Lene and I. We are tandem typists. Bathed in the blue glow of our laptop screens, we pause only occasionally to swat away the biting insects attracted to them. Truth be told, the bugs here aren't nearly as bad as i had anticipated. No repellant needed, so far, and not a flea or bedbug in sight.

We revel in the small miracle of interrnet connectivity. Something largely unavailable to us in our first two weeks here, and something which we realized we both had completely taken for granted, communication-wise. I think it would not have made such a huge differnce to us in another place, under other circumstances, but here at the sanctuary it was hard not to feel claustrophobic and cut off from the world without that particular communication link. Our cell phones do not work here. It is unsafe to walk anywhere alone or at all after dark. This combined with the time difference and our working hours makes getting to a pay phone or internet cafe ridiculously inconvenient. Even in yellowood park, away from the city center, we are surrounded by concrete walls and electric fences. No one goes out at night and there are lunging guard dogs in the front yard of every home down our street. Its a gorgeous place. But not a cozy one.

I used one of my days off today to just sleep in, paint my toenails, and call around to see what kind of adventures we gan get up to. i swore i wouldn't waste any days just sitting around, but then because of the difficulty with phones i ended up not taking any days off at all and just working straight through because i didn't have any actual plans. So i think a sleep in was needed. And i got some calling done too, so i think it was worth it

After Amy and Claire were done their feeds we cabbed into the pavillion to grab a bite to eat and catch a movie. A girlie night at the mall. Hah! Who's a tourist now? :-P Still it was fun. We had a huge supper and a few too many cocktails. The movie was alright ("Yes" with Jim Carrey, a cute - if a little basic - feel good movie about making your own adventures) Good for a few laughs and a bit of a warm fuzzy feeling, anyway.

I managed to completely put my foot in my mouth in the usual Tuttle style on the way home. I'd taken a picture of Claire in the back of the cab and the flash had accidentally gone off on my camera. The cabbie looked around to see where the lights had come from (bouncing off all the glass windows and mirror, of course) we all laughed and i apologised to him for the distraction (especially while driving at night!) and when he gestured at the rearview mirror i laughed and said something like "Good lord! Are you blind now?" At which the car got pretty quiet. Assuming the moment had simply ended, i didn't think anything of it until after we got home.
And then Amy told me he had actually, seriously, had a glass eye or been blind in one eye, which i obviously hadn't noticed.
(FFS!!!!)
And so i keep my tiara as the reigning queen of awkwardness !
eff..!
At least She tipped him well...

*sigh*
*scritches head sheepishly*

New subject!

I've managed to book a three day horseback tour of the daakensberg mountains and to the Sani pass in Lesotho next week, which i'm really excited about. The Basotho people, apparently, dont believe in fences and high security. They pride themselves of being quite separate from their surrounding South African neighbors. The guide book described it as "a welcome change, visually AND psychologically" from the concrete and razor wire of SA. I have to admit, as soon as i read those words i heaved a great big sigh and thought "yeeeeeah...."

Tomorrow one of the vets is taking us back to the Natural history museum. I'd been talking about how much i wanted to see it for a few days, and then Amy, Claire and i ended up going on a goose rescue with Medi and thats where it ended up being. We actually coralled the geese and their 4 goslings into the open doors or the museum itself, so that the parents wouldn't be able to fly of and abandon their babies if they felt too stressed. we walked them all to the far corner of the exhibit, opened the catchbox and grapped the nets. I got the mum and someone scooped up the goslings. Then the dad took off, flapping accross the hall. The curator grabbed one of our nets and took off after him. The hall was instantly filled with a cacaphony of eching goose honks, flapping wings and deafening crashes as the curator swung his net madly at the goose. We stifled our laughter as the net bounced and thrashed above the display boards and the goose raced from end to end. At least they couldn't say it was us, if anything got broken. I was a little worried, with the curators...enthusiasm, that the goose might have been injured in the catch, but he was netted and examined and none the worse for wear aside from a lost feather or two and being a little bit out of breath.

As it turned out, the curator was friends with Medi, and offered to show us around behind the scenes a little. We got to see the private entymology collection and a few of the pickled specimens. He was about to show us the mammal collection but we had to cut things short on account of the geese we'd captured, now waiting in crates in the foyer. Medi promised to bring his friend a few specimens of the giant biting spiders from the pelican enclosure (horrible black and red pointy legged things with caustic yellow looking webs). So we're going back for a better visit tomorrow morning. After we collect some spiders. *shudders*

We're all having a big lamb cook out tomorrow night after work. Then on thursday Lene and i go rock climbing and abseiling for the day.

all of this on top of whatever the clinic throws our way.
should be a busy week!
and then the draakensbergs and Lesotho.

Low-batt.

more to come.

A.

South Africa Journal pt 2

2009-01-17T04:53:00.000-08:00

Saturday January 17, 2009

a brief synopsis, two weeks late.

Coming to the end of my second week here at C.R.O.W. And it has been busy, busy, busy!

We do feeds for all the animals here twice per day, chopping up loads of fresh fruit, veggies and chicks for the Hadedas and raptors. There are vervet monkeys, two troops of baboons, a wildebeest, daikers (tiny deer about the size of a small dog) dassies (a kind of marmot looking thing about the size of a guinea pig) bushpigs, genets ( a spotted cat looking thing that is actually a member of the mongoose family) several types of owls (potted eagle owl, barn owl, wood owl), lanner falcons, gosshawk, sparrow hawk (now released back to the wild) Hadedas and white ibis, mongoose (slender and banded), herons, wild geese and many types of fruit and insect eating birds (mousebird, orioles, bulbul, swifts, flycatchers barbets and more)

Herons and banded mongoose are jerks.

In the first week, Carly and Amy and I drove up through the mountains to the Duma Manzi game reserve to move some genets into a temporary enclosure before being released into the wild. We saw wildebeest, giraffes and zebra, as well as several types of antelope (tommies and kudu)

After feeds one night we all piled into the back of the pickup truck and headed to the coast for a swim, The weather that day had been 38 degrees (and feeling hotter with the humidity) and we were all overheated and exhausted. The waves at the Durban beach were amazingly powerful, even on a calm day. I think the beach sands drop off fairly steeply, creating fairly huge waves even close to the shore. Many 10 feet or more. So much bigger here than in Tofino! Surfing here will be a treat. And a challenge.

Most nights, after our feeds and chores, we sit outside in the cool air, chatting, smoking and drinking a few beer. Its wonderful, after a long day in the heat, sitting in the middle of night time jungle sounds, palm trees silhouetted against the night sky, basking in a cool breeze and good company, lucking a few tunes on the ukelele.

Gin has never tasted better.

Insomnia has dissolved into deep sleeps with vivid dreams.

South Africa Journal pt 1

2009-01-06T04:53:00.000-08:00

Drinking a cider, lying in bed typing this. Most of the other volunteers have gone to bed and i am the only one left still up aside from amy who says she's feeling unwell tonight and not able to sleep.

I fell asleep tonight immediately after supper, exhausted from the heat and the days work, and still recovering from the three days of airports and cramped airplane seats it took me just to get here.
Mabel, the volunteer Co-ordinator for crow met me at the Durban airport on monday morning. I have to say i was quite relieved, as her email correspondences have been very brief, and although it is mentioned on the website that she could meet volunteers at the airport, i was left feeling uncertain as to whether i should expect her or not.

After a quick tour of the rehab center and some brief introductions with the staff, i was sent to the guest house to unpack a few things and get settled in. I met Amy, one of the other volunteers and after the usual hello's and how are you's, was treated to a barrage of horror stories about the center. She's here from england for a year, earning a school credit in an animal behaviour program, been here since august. Almost immediately, she began to tell me how lucky i was to have arrived when i did. Apparently, only a few weeks before, the guest house had been a complete write off, filthy and in disrepair, and also infested with fleas and bed bugs. She assures me it has been completely fumigated, scrubbed and repainted, and a cleaning lady hired to help keep it tidy, but only after some volunteers had arrived and refused to stay in such poor living conditions. She told me that most of the recent volunteers had all left well before their sheduled departures, due to the working and living conditions.

i'm listening to her talk, exhausted, hearing all of this after a three day trek and no small personal cost to get here, and thinking: "Oh fuck. oh fuck. oh fuck oh fuck...." all the while a sickly feeling began to creep into my guts...and i'm replaying the half joking conversation i'd had with Richard about a week before leaving...about how I'd found the organisation on the internet so of COURSE i knew it was legitimate, because the internet never lies, never misleads. And how i'd joked about showing up at a what i expected to be a rehab center and being forced to make wallets in a sweatshop instead..."how was your vacation april?? What? no tan??"

and suddenly its not as funny.

And my cell phone doesn't work here. And there's no internet to get in touch with anyone.

tired and exhausted, I'm digging out my travel guide to figure out what the hell am i going to do if this all goes poorly?

where will i go? how much money do i have? where's the nearest phone? can i walk anywhere in this neighborhood? can i reschedule my plane ticket home if i need to? all of this running through my mind and on top of that the chanting chorus "fuck! fuck, FUCK!" acompanied by alarm bells and low grade trepidation.

And then, too tired to even bother with having a cry and determined not to panic, and that I'd find a way to manage, i curled up and fell asleep for the afternoon,

But not before i inspected my sheets for bedbugs and fleas.

My car doesn't love me...

2008-12-18T23:10:00.000-08:00

Today i dug my car out of the snow and drove it to work for the first time in probably more than a month.
For those of you who don't know the background to this story, i shall include a brief synopses:

* My car has been...unwell... for quite some time. I was quoted about 3 weeks of roadworthiness by a mechanic about 3 months ago. "Ma'am, the problem with your car.....is that you need a NEW CAR!" Thats a direct quote, kittens.

* The battery died in august and had to be replaced (an adventure! Nearly missed out on some very carefully orchestrated festival plans because of that one)
* A tire blew out on the Queensway in september. (Another adventure!) All four were so bald that it was a small miracle that only one actually gave out.... i had to buy an enitre set as none of the ones i had were remotely salvageable...
* It was at this point that i was told the brakes would need replacing.
* The gas tank has a hole in it, and has had for quite some time. Its near the top, so it aint all bad, but if you fill it more that 3/4's you're literally pouring your money down the drain and the entire car will reek of gasoline.
* both headlights have burnt out. I am reluctant to spend any more money on this obviously dying car. I'm also an asshole, so i just drive with my highbeams on all the time instead.
* My struts are on their way out. If i take a bump and a corner at the same time, it kind of looks like something out of mario kart where you skitter off to the outside of the curve...
* My fuel intake hose will soon be obsolete
* i don't evenwant to know what else...
* Oh, and it has 360 000 km on it.

* since the three week prognois, i have been relying on the bus to get to my main job at the Vet Clinic, and have had to give up my second job (the one i'd been saving up all my travel money with...*grumbles*) entirely.
* Instead of junking the car entirely, I decided to hang onto it - since i have a free parking space - and take the afore mentioned three weeks of road worthiness in increments of hours and single, short, trips, reserved for occasional scheduling conveniences and semi- emergencies. (it makes me squirrely to think i can't escape the city if i actually needed to get away from it)
* So, in light of all of this, I've been using the bus to get to work every day, which has beenits own special set of adventures, which i will not get into here...
* EXCEPT for the adventure about the ottawa transit system being ON STRIKE; Which leads neatly into the Adventure of trying to find a regular ride to work every day, where i am going against the general flow of traffic, and working very irregular hours compared to those of other car poolers.
* Today was the first day i had no other ride lined up....So i decided to dig out the car for this, somewhat urgent, situation.

As soon as i sat in my little junker and turned the key...a tremendous calmness came over me....It was like a home away from home...the seat was already adjusted just for me, the radio preset to my favourite station...it was all so familiar and intimate...the feel of the clutch, the tilt of the mirror, the funny way the stick catches just a little when you put it into second if you don't do it just right... it was like seeing an old friend and finding that nothing between you has changed...(and friends....nothing here HAD changed....my car is still a piece of shit, just one that i happen to be dearly missing at the moment...)

SO i drove to work. i kept my speed low, i took it easy on the corners, i kept away from crowds of other cars...
and everything was FINE. no problems starting, no problems stopping. Nuffink at all.

So i'm thinking "this isn't so bad!" and that if i can just make it through the few work days left between now and January 3rd, then i;'ll be in Africa for the better part of two months and the whole stupid trasit strike will be over when i come back and i'll have some time to actually junk my little old beater car once and for all and everything will be FINE. Everything will be fine at the VERY LEAST.... maybe possibly even great.

So after work, i'm on my way home and i notice i'm out of washer fluid, so i stop to pick some up. I fill my gas tank 3/4 full (and the gas is so CHEAP, now that i'm not driving all the time!) and i pop the hood and begin to fill the washer fluid tank. I'm excited by the prospect of having clean windows in the wintertime (kind of imprtant!) and as i'm pouring, i notice a very small sound....

and i lean in...

and i listen....

and

"Oh!" I think to myself..."Oh it soundslike i'm sloshing it all over the ground!"

And i looked, and i wasn't...

but i kind of really was.

The fucking washer fluid tank has broken.

My car does not love me.

not at all.

not one little bit.

....

*sigh*

well at least its kind of funny.

and now all i can think of is Fred Flinstone saying "Droll. VER-y Droll...." and looking smug and unimpressed, while Barnie stifles himself and the great kazoo looks bored and impatient.

"thats right dum-dum...".

you need a new car.

.... multiple confessions and one uncomfortable realization

2008-12-17T10:17:00.000-08:00

i am not in love with the city right now.

i miss my sleepy small town
i miss my old shitty apartment with my derelict landlord and fight-club bathroom
i miss having a dog
i miss my family
i miss all the friends who live in the same city as me that i still never get to see
i miss not worrying about how i'm going to get to work every day
i miss the stars at night
i miss being able to run and run and run and never worry about how late it was or how empty the streets were, or which neighborhood i had wandered into
i miss drinking beer in the park
i miss the happy chatter with the regulars in my cafe
i miss being able to walk home from every bar in town
i miss small town insomnia
i miss impromptu beers at the pub with an old english lit teacher, and late night palavers with a back-woods mad scientist
i miss autonomy
i miss unexpected alliances

and i miss feeling like i never belonged there

feckless mewlings

2008-12-11T23:22:00.000-08:00

* my brain is melting.
* i have no buffer and i have no depth perception.
* this is fucking stupid.

cry it all out

2008-12-09T22:32:00.000-08:00

Its been a long day.

One of my favorite patients died today with a belly full of blood and a sad look of quiet resignation on his face. I watched a woman cry openly with sheer frustration, helplessness and loss. I watched a sixteen year old boy struggle for composure in the face of his first real encounter with death. I watched him lose that battle. And then i watched a good dog die.

this is one of the ones that stings.

and then this made me laugh...

2008-12-09T01:19:00.000-08:00

Guy Terrifico says:
haha , lesbo
Prillo says:
dyke!
Guy Terrifico says:
haha, I hope I didn't make fun of you in high school and this is some elaborate revenge and you bite my dick of and you and richelle and erin fly off on brooms cackling
Prillo says:
LMFAO
Prillo says:
er....
Prillo says:
i mean
Prillo says:
nooooo....don't be silly...
Prillo says:
*looks shifty*
Guy Terrifico says:
and you have a big pile of moldy dicks in the woods that you all site on listening to marilyn manson and reading silvia plath
Prillo says:
hahaha
Prillo says:
fuck you!
Prillo says:
sylvia plath!
Prillo says:
dorothy parker, if anything
Guy Terrifico says:
and miss olimer is your hippie goddes who chain smokes and wears nothing but a giant were beaver coat
Prillo says:
lol
Prillo says:
you're awful!
Guy Terrifico says:
thats so hilarious
Guy Terrifico says:
I think I'm the funniest man alive
Guy Terrifico says:
sorry, drinking gin\
Prillo says:
some of your finest work, mr. aubin...if i do say so
Guy Terrifico says:
there is more vulgarity and insensitivity where that comes from
Prillo says:
*SWOONS*

some haiku

2008-12-08T02:13:00.000-08:00

there is nothing here;
no warm familiar faces,
in winter city

i stare through the grime
of a dirty bus window.
all the world is gray.

all the birds are gone
but the noisy, raucous, gulls.
they shriek in triumph.

you pull me to you
like the full moon pulls the tide.
i am overcome.

I think i love you
more than i reasonably should.
I'm okay with that.

2008-11-29T23:19:00.000-08:00

Let it be known that lingerie-shopping is second in soulcrushingness only to bathing suit shopping.

colds and needles

2008-11-23T17:23:00.000-08:00

Out last night to Richelle and Ed's for dinner and drinks.

Nothing fancy, just a cozy chill night getting caught up with friends and conversation that bubbled until the not-so-wee hours of the morning.

Good for what ails you.

Hair of the dog for breakfast and an afternoon of tidying and laundry.

tonight i sew.

tomorrow brings an early surgery shift and an afternoon root canal.

I am sick of colds and needles.

britt

2008-11-22T19:24:00.000-08:00

playing with a few of the shots from the britt shoot...

this is one of her wearing clothes :-P

some things

2008-11-21T01:23:00.000-08:00

* the slow ache of muscles that tells you you're alive, and that you've earned the right to a hot bath and to be tired in a good way
* metallic taste of nightime air, when snow is on the way
* walking home with no headphones on to hear the thrumm of the city - crystal clear sound that winter brings - echoing footfalls and eavesdropped conversations
* delightful sense of urgency from a full tilt run to catch the bus - the arch look from the driver's lofty perch that says "you're lucky i'm in a good mood, kid"
* revolution is good for the soul
* honour bestowed by a cat that declares you fit company and worthy of lap time.
* in bed, swaddled in a nest of egyptian cotton and goose down, i notice that my hair still smells like cold air

2008-11-20T20:43:00.000-08:00

okay....

*takes a deep breath*

i think it might be time to work on britt's pictures

*raises her trembling hand*

steady like a mother fukkin surgeon....

2008-11-19T19:21:00.000-08:00

i saw you in the morning
huddled against the crowd and the cold
squinting into the light
breathing fog and steam

you looked straight at me, but didn't know me
didn't remember our time together.

how we sweated
how we ached
how we fought

only recognizing that my gaze lingered on your face
a little longer than was comfortable
you turned away.

on the crowded bus
we are two strangers with a history

truants and quitters
dereliction is our bond.

and i am the only one here who knows your secret.

...

your Kung Fu is weak, sir.

some things

2008-11-17T02:18:00.000-08:00

* Photo shoot with Britt went super well today! Britt looked like a fucking bohemian princess and her pixie smile lights up a room. ( I haven't even TOUCHED the pictures yet because i'm too excited and don't want to ruin them. :D:D:D - I'll force myself to ignore them for a day or two and then go in with a steady hand and a cool head :P) Also, the breakfast at the good food Co was perfect, and our impromptu location (in the basement of the restaurant) turned out to be lovely AND Erin stuck around after breakfast and helped with lighting so we got to hang out all at the very same time!! Awesomeness.

* I found out that one of my prints sold at the Good Food! Yay! So breakfast was paid for, and i'm extra happy cos it was one of the ones i DIDN't think people would buy ( i printed it anyway because *I* like it and i'm an "artist" and , moreover, an egomaniac. So there...)

i just don't think violence is that funny...(pt2)
Originally uploaded by titanium-white
...

* Ukelele meetup tomorrow night! Not only have i sucessfully found a group of local uke players....i have managed to infiltrate their circle....muahahaha...! I'm supposed to bring a song for everyone to play...wonder what they'll think of "Liquor and Whores".... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QO92VGKOYy4

* This is totally ridiculous, but Richard has a friend in a Burlesque show, and they are - or will be- hiring dancers....Its virtually an impossibility - I can NOT dance! - but the even faintest notion of doing a stint in a burlesque show totally makes me pee my pants...*SQUEE!* But still! maybe i can get a photo gig or something more realistic ... :-P Also, and this is super hot: when i mentioned it to Kris he was like "Holy Shit!! DO it! " lol such an awesome boy...

* Africa is getting closer and CLOSER (!!!!!)

* and so is SEXMAS 2008! (whoop whoop whoop!)

thats all for now!

love and kisses,

A.

you already know this story

2008-10-22T00:34:00.000-07:00

I don't want to write.
I only want to read, and escape.

loose threads

2008-07-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

it was good to see you tonight
to pull the last threads from the spool

sitting in the dark
drinking coffee gone cold

suffocating on cigarette smoke
and all the things we can't say

down at the beach where the kids smoke weed
we say our roundabout goodbyes

we build a scaffold around the elephant in the room
with small talk and light chatter

i've said none of the things i wanted to.

and then its time to go

plans...

2008-06-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

Looks like this summer is going to be crazy busy....

* Off to Brockville with Richard tomorrow night for a wee road trip. Then up and at 'em and on to Kingston first thing in the morning to shoot some photos for Gwen and hang around K-town for the day. Back to ottawa to drop richard off, then back to CP to get myself to bed. Work all day the the Good food, and then...
* Straight to Toronto to hang out with E-face for a (painfully short) evening. Up early to catch a Physio/Rehab and massage therapy wet lab/crash course on monday. Drive back to CP, crash and then its a week of mostly surgery shifts....those are some seriously early mornings, my friends....
* July sees Erin back in my neck of the woods, which means guaranteed shenanigans and late nights.
* a week of Bluesfest!
* I need to MOVE - probably TWICE! once at the end of July into a place i can crash for a couple of weeks...because i don't want to miss/REFUSE to move on ...
* BLUESKIES Musicfestival (august 1st)- 4 day weekend of live music, bonfires, singing, dancing and general merrymaking. a definite Must. the happiest place on earth. For reals.
* then back to whoever's couch i'm surfing at that point, another week of surgery shifts, and then.
* MOVE (again) but for real this time. Daly street here we come!
* HOUSEWARMING PARTY?? (this may have to wait until after...)
* BUMBERSHOOT - seattle music festival. Dudes. Beck will be there (SOLD! on that note alone). The Black Keys. Lucinda williams. Final fantasy. Del Tha Funky Homosapien. M. Ward. and like a bazillion others ( http://www.bumbershoot.org/lineup.htm ). still tentative at his point - but i'm going to do my level best to make it happen....
* From Seattle we veer north to TOFINO for a visit with the rents, some much needed chill time and possibly a few more good music shows. Oh. And LOTS of surfing. that bit is not negotiable.
* (home for a bit)
* KANSAS - going to Topeka on a work trip. The trip is based on dogfood....but its all expenses paid, an open bar and a weekend out of town. *shrugs* (does anyone know if there's anything fun or weird to do in Topeka??)
* I'll probably spend most of november scrambling to get my shit together in preparation for...

* SOUTH AFRICA (finally!!) - six weeks starting in January. working at a wildlife Rehab facility in Durban, weekends off for surfing (warm water, sharks!) and safaris. THIS is going to be fantastic.

On top of this im sure i've missed Several birthdays, weddings and anniversaries, plus the usual Kung Fu, Kickboxing, six day work week, desperate attempst at maintaining a social life, and occasional recurring sleeping disorders. :-P

So yeah!
plans.

almost as non-stop as 2007, only without the chain smoking and stress vomiting. :-P

No complaints = No material

2008-06-16T20:53:00.000-07:00

I am completely exhausted, bruised, blistered, smelly, ravenous and grinning from ear to ear.

It has been a pretty great week.

Seattle...

2008-06-11T23:03:00.000-07:00

needs to be 4592 Km closer to ottawa.

*sigh*

signed the lease....

2008-05-27T23:16:00.000-07:00

lied about the cat...

Doomsday Celebrations

2008-05-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

We spent the day at the beach; brought baskets of food, blankets and towels and all the instruments we could carry.
Aside from the livid colours in the sky and the fervent intensity of the celebrations you would never know the end was drawing near. It could be any other day; just an arbitrary holiday marked with seaside celebrations.
We have determined to meet it, not only on our feet, but dancing;
smiling and laughing.
Singing.
Squeezing every last drop of joy there is to be had out of what remains of this life.

We want it all, and we haven't got long.

There are no sign bearers here. No nay-sayers, alarmists, or sermonists preaching damnation. They are perched outside the council halls, at parliament, and on the remaining broadcasting TV stations. They have kept to the warrens of the city; and they are welcome to it.

Before the sun goes down, Aubin claims a seat on one of the bluffs overlooking the ocean. He sits and paints it as it pummels the rock cliffs at the north end of the beach. He paints the lurid cloudscapes and the sea birds diving off the cliffs. He paints the surf as it breaks across the beach and the sun slipping towards the horizon. He does not paint the growing crowd. His beach is empty. He gets the waves just right. Likely, his work will be destroyed long before the oil paints have a chance to fully dry . It doesn't matter because this piece isn't about production or documentation. Its about doing what you love.

As the light begins to fade bonfires spark into life along the sands. The crowd continues to grow as more and more people arrive.

Drums pound. There is every manner of instrument being played. Voices join in chorus and laughter percolates through the buzz of the crowd. Fire spinners work their magic. There are more than a few costumed and painted faces here, making last appearances, determined to make the last show a good one. A set of whirling dervishes set to work entrancing themselves. Great huge skeletons and reapers move through the throng; hovering overhead on tall staffs. They reach out menacingly or lilt and dance according to the whims of their puppeteers. Someone brought a projector is is blasting old movie fragments onto the rock face.

Occasionally a shark explodes from the crashing surf and hurls itself towards the beach. Most of them are small, and are carried back out to sea by the retreating waves. A few larger ones have been marooned and lie; thrashing, gasping or still, on the sands. Some opportunistic party goers have already begun carving steaks for roasting over the fires. No one knows for certain why the big fish seem to be driven towards land. We speculate about offshore weather patterns and pressure systems. We talk about horses getting skittish and dogs going crazy before tornadoes and wonder how they know the things they do. We wonder when the big wave will come.

Tucked away in the quieter corners of the beach there are tall tales being told. We regale each other with our greatest moments; and the most delightfully embarrassing moments of our friends'. A posse of old ladies share a last pot of tea (or two) and cackle over their bridge hands. Lovers kiss in the shadows.

This is the very best of what our species has to offer; secrets and songs and stories. We are at our finest; drumming and dancing the night away. We will pour it all out on the sands one last time.

We refuse sadness.

We are, all of us, temporary.

the disappointing, the missing, the remote, : a twelve month tally

2008-05-26T00:22:00.000-07:00

* you,
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and you
* and then you
* and me

--------------

no sooner come than gone....
how to hold on...
how to hold on...

how to hold on with an open palm??

projects

2008-05-22T00:32:00.000-07:00

Why is it that inspiration always strikes at the times when you have no time to spare?

I just got off the phone from an hours long (and much overdue) conversation with the darling Pirate McQueen. We had a lot o catching up to do but the better part of our time was spent spring-boarding off of a couple of project ideas. There are two projects I'd been mulling over for quite some time and one of them has snowballed into something i think will work much better with the two of us going hell for leather on it. As usual, it seems we'd both been thinking the same thoughts in separate brains, so when we started casually talking about our ideas it was all "OMG, me too! " and "yeah!, and you know what else would be awesome...?" and squeals of excitement. We're soooo on board with the collective vision...

This is going to be great.

seriously.

So i need to have my calling cards made up to lend me some credibility - its amazing (and perhaps a little frightening) what a little piece of paper with your name on it can do for you! :-P

Sadly, the first order of business will be to get the beloved Rebel repaired
*sigh*
and speaking of the broken camera....i drove home tonight and saw at least 8 gorgeous shots, and i missed a bunch in ottawa this weekend too...ALWAYS when the camera is either left at home, or the battery is dead...or in this case...broken. I have GOT to stop doing this to myself...

also:

i HATE apartment hunting
i am sick of being poor
kickboxing is le fun - especially the punching and kicking things part

Thats it for now. (i'm on surgery tomorrow and its 20 after 1....nurrrrrr - more viewings in the evening too)

A.

eff yes....

2008-05-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

Eff yes!! 'tis the season!!
Richard and i are having a Fiddleheads do-up tomorrow. We will gorge on nothing but, until we are tumid with iron rich greens and completely immobilized by our buttery girths. Perhaps we can pay Kat's little girls to spoon feed us lemon sorbet for dessert and to roll us over on the half hour to prevent decubital ulcers ...

Kids will do anything for a buck or five, and they rarely have the foresight to unionize....

I will be SO upset if there aren't any fiddleheads available in ottawa...

Also: the new Kung Fu semester started tonight,and i signed up for kick boxing too. This means i will be allowed (encouraged!!) to land real punches on real people! extra violence means extra fun! On the down side, real people will also be landing real punches on me... Sifu says it will take some time to "get used to being hit"
O_0
(not the face! OhPlsGod, Not the faaace!)

In the mean time i think I'm developing some kind of nasty throat infection that makes swallowing my own spit into a nightmarish ordeal, so i am, dear reader, regrettably forced to retire (this instant!) to the confines of a steaming hot bath with a bowl of ice cream in tow....

Pauvre pamplemousse!

*sniff*

A.

PostScript: did i mention there's ukelele AND banjo on the new(ish) Portishead album?? I'm a happy girl.

glitter synapse post run afterglow

2008-05-12T23:46:00.000-07:00

late night trek through the back streets and wood lots

my breath is metered in foot-fall syllables.
heart pounding
ragged smile

I'll never not love this
The streets are empty
the air is cool,
heavy with lilac, crab apple and birch pollen
trees in rut,
lusty
shouting tawdry, hymenopteric "come hithers"
their perfumes are deafening.

you happy now

2008-04-20T20:40:00.000-07:00

You know those days that are kind of great, but for no good reason?

Today was one of those.

I got to sleep in and gently drift to consciousness without the assistance of a screeching alarm clock, have breakfast at a sugar shack with McKenna and Simon, Dig out my bike and go for a tour (albeit a tiny one) with Shawn and Mikey, and then have drinks and eats with my cuz Shianne and Auntie Chris and her friend Sue.
The sun was shining, the conversation was good and i didn't do a SINGLE productive thing, all day. Plus i got invites to play Road Hockey, Go Hot Tubbing, and go Whitewater rafting. (yes, yes and YES! )

And somebody said my skin looks nice, and not in the creepy, 'are you about a size twelve?' silence of the lambs kind of way either.

The only parts that sucked were trying on bathing suits ( I've decided that i look better naked than in spandex, by the way, and that skinny dipping is definitely the way to go - i've known that since i was about 3, actually - and i will only ever wear a bathing suit again if its a choice between that or fines for public indecency - "*sigh* Tuttle's naked again...better call the cops...." )

AND i never DID find anyone to play frisbee with! Not a single, solitary throw...TSK! So be forewarned...I have now given up on asking, pestering, pleading, begging, wheedling, trying to subliminally mind rape, coax, cajole, or blandish anyone into playing with me.

The new rules are as follows:

1. It shall be understood that any time i am speaking with you, hanging out with you, in the same postal code, or in an upright position and or breathing between now and November 1st, that i am likely to have a frisbee on my person.

2. The frisbee does NOT have to be in plain sight for a game to be initiated.

3. At any point during said ' hang out' , i may launch the Frisbee towards your face, provided that i shout your name before it actually gets there.

4. You will simply be obliged to catch it in some manner.

(hands or teeth, its your choice...*shrugs*)

5. In the event that a player elects to not have fun, and catches the frisbee with their face, a game of Tag may be substituted at said injured player's discretion, depending of their degree of eye watering and desire to throttle me.

6. Although slightly less fun, it shall be agreed upon that a player may preemptively thwart surprise frisbee attacks by directly asking to play, and participating in at least five tosses - even if they suck. This will be sufficient effort on your part to humor me until next we meet.

the smiler

2008-04-19T00:16:00.000-07:00

So the other day, I woke up at about 5 am, way before the alarm clock, and realized, as i struggled towards consciousness, that i must've been smiling in my sleep. My mouth was all dried out and my lip was plastered way up above the gumline. I can only imagine how creepy that must've looked...
Me carelessly sprawled on the bed, French curled up by my side...swaddled in down duvet and egyptian cotton sheets, first light blushing through the window as the birds begin to chirp in the first days of spring outside... brow completely unfurrowed by the daily grind, eyebrows making a gentle accent of circumflex bliss on my forehead...and then....pan down... to the toothy, too wide, perma-grin of a hapless, hungry zombie that has managed to chew its own lips off.

*flashbacks of the movie Seven*

hah!

Now that Must've been some Goooooood Dreamin'.

and at least i'm not a chatterer like e-dot.

:-P