Blogging: A failed school year.

Lesson learned: I cannot seem to blog to save my life. Attempt #2 coming soon.

Ma mere.

June 2011


My dearest Meg's,


The universe is a mirror. What we perceive the world  to be is what our world becomes. In youth we learn, in age we understand. Absorb these words in kind, they are simple yet tremendous. Allow your artistic talents to flow into the adventures that are pending in life's future travels.
I am so very proud of you and excited for you!


Most of all, know that love is with you everywhere you go.
                                              I love you!      Mom xox




- I miss and love my mum very much. I can't wait to see her again. Her words inspire me. 

The labyrinth.

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.

I find it funny how a book I read years and years ago still continues to relate to my life and still holds so much importance and relevance to everything I do.

When I first found 'Looking for Alaska' under a table in a huge box of books, there was just something about it, and the cover. I gravitated towards it. When I first read it, the significance of just reading it and understanding the meaning was therapeutic. I cried and cried when I realized that I related to a girl who hit the gas instead of the brake. I realized that at the time, I was walking out in front of cars and half-hoping that they would do the same. I was broken and lost, and reading about her made me feel that I needed to find my way out of the labyrinth. 

At the time, as some people know, I was being verbally abused by my dad's girlfriend of the time. I was fragile to begin with, self conscious, confused, and still hurt over my parent's divorce. At the time, I was just coming out of a two and a half year struggle with depression when she entered my life. I won't sugar-coat it- being abused was one of the lowest points of my life. No one believed that it was happening because I didn't like her to begin with. However, one night my mother happened to come early to pick me up and she caught the end of one of Lori's rants at me for not doing the dishes. It started as a 'why didn't you clean?' rant and turned into a 'you're a useless homewrecker, you make everyone around you unhappy' rants. One of the worst parts of this was my dad's decision to stand there and let it happen. He didn't try to stop her, he'd just stand silently and watch her do it. I would look to him, my hero, to save me from the yelling, the screaming, the put-downs. His silence only cemented in my belief that this treatment is what I deserved.

How at the age of 13 I managed to overcome this I will never understand. I tried so hard to be as perfect as I could, so that in the end, she would hypothetically have nothing to call me on so she would have to stop. But she didn't. I can still remember sitting on the couch and keeping my eyes on her hands, hoping that she wouldn't decide to hit me this time. Don't misunderstand- she never hit me. But I watched her hit and beat on my dad regularly, and I was scared that one day she may snap and turn to me and do the same thing.

This was the worst part of the labyrinth. It was the most dark, and the hardest to find my way out of. I decided to live with my mum almost full time and just stay at the weekends at my dad's. Finally, it seemed after that year had ended, that she had calmed down. I made the decision to stay there during the summer. It was one of the worst decisions I made. Even though I followed the rules, respected her, and did everything I could to please her, it didn't. She harassed me worse than when it had all started. I left that summer feeling worse than when it had started. I vowed to never again step foot in their house. One day, after receiving a call from her that made me cry in front of my friends, they convinced me that it was time. I bussed home, and with my friends waiting at the bottom of our driveway, I walked into the storm.

It felt kind of surreal. I opened the door, and she was there waiting. From the moment before I had time to close said door, to the moment that I stepped off of their property, she didn't stop screaming. But for once, I ignored her completely. I simply turned to her and said, "I'm leaving." I went and packed my necessary things, and left. My dad stood there in shock, and didn't say a word. Lori screamed at me while I walked down our driveway. I was 14.

Since then, my patience was rewarded. I started living full time with my mom. I started to get good grades. Even though I still had to deal with certain issues with Lori (I almost got a restraining order) I felt almost normal again. Don't get me wrong, there were bumps along the way. Finally, the Christmas of '09 brought me what I waited for so patiently- My family had realized Lori's ways, and had actually made her leave our Christmas Eve dinner for trying to yell at me. That single moment was when I knew that everything would be okay. Over the course of 6 months, her relationship with my dad collapsed. I was so happy when I found out that they were done. It was over.

It took me a long time to fully forgive my father, Lori, and the rest of my family for what happened. I can say that up until the past month, I still wasn't there. Living away from home and having space from everyone is really what made me realize that you have to forgive. I lived for so long hating Lori, hating my father, hating my family for overlooking everything. It took me too long to understand that in order to be okay, you have to forgive and let go. It's hard. It takes time. But without forgiveness, I would never have gotten this far. I wouldn't have been successful. I would be burning up in my hate. 

I am so thankful for my life. I am thankful for every breath I breathe, and every step I take. I am fortunate to have the life I've been given. The labyrinth feels less daunting, and more bright now. Not as much of an obstacle  as it is a part of life. I now try to live life as passionately as I can. I try to say yes instead of no. I do things that I normally wouldn't be comfortable with. I feel like whatever has created us, whether it be a God or Greater Consciousness had made us with intention. I feel that I was given these burdens like these issues with Lori and my heart problems among the rest of my health issues to overcome them. I was given these heavy burdens because I was made to carry them with grace. 

Some people choose to fight the labyrinth, others get lost. I am so grateful that I realized that the only way out of the labyrinth of suffering, is to forgive. 

Another Week.

Another week has gone by! It's been hectic, and I've still been trying to recover and learn and work on so many things all at once. Everything is just going so fast... And it won't slow until mid-December when I can finally take a breath.


Something that I have forgotten about: Spoken word. Creative writing. I miss it, I feel like I have to get re-inspired. I have this art block right now that I can't get rid of and I feel like I need to flood myself with information and inspiration and beauty and music and too many things so that my brain will be unable to handle everything. So I'll finally be able to let go of all of the worry and small things at the back of my head that just keep tugging at the corners of my mind. 


It's funny, having art block while at art school. I can do the things assigned to me, (so far) but I'm unable to draw anything myself. Every time I try to just let go and draw nothing comes out. It's like my hand stops flowing and my mind locks up and I forget how to draw things. It's upsetting and frustrating and I feel like I'm just banging against the door inside my mind; I want out. My creativity wants out. I want to scream until I feel free and relaxed and ready to handle all of this. Getting sick made me feel sick and crippled and it reminded me of all of my health problems and how fragile I am. It's a scary thought. I don't want to be sick. 


I need to write again, so that I can draw again. I need to create again, so that I can breathe again.


I need wings to fly.

First Week.

My first week of class has come and gone, and a blog post that was meant to be written Saturday will finally be written now. 


My first week honestly, could have been better. I ended up getting sick the second day of class, and I drudged through the rest of my week feeling crappy and tired and generally unhappy. I struggled to finish assignments, and  I usually ended up coming home right after class because I was too tired to think through what I was doing and I just kept making mistakes. 


The one day that I finally started to feel better was Friday, and so Madison and I decided to still go to the opening at Ayden Gallery. I was still feeling kind of sick, but I thought I was on the path to being healthy again so I didn't mind going. It ended up being great! I met a lot of second and third year IDEA students, along with a bunch of people who graduated from the program. I learned that IDEA has a really good name for itself, better than Emily Carr has right now in illustration and design. As soon as people learned that I was a first year IDEA student, they were eager to figure out who I was, how I was enjoying it, etc. Overall, it was a good night. I love the exhibit and the artists that were featured, and as a bonus I can use the experience for my communications class. 


The next morning, I woke up feeling terrible. I started coughing, felt more congested, and worse in all aspects. Both Madison and I decided to just relax the whole day, knowing that at some point we would have to hike up the trail to go do some work at school. Then, something wonderful happened! Opus called me and told me my pencil crayons were in! So Madison and I rushed to the Opus, ended up buying ourselves desk plants and old containers to put them in (Mine turned out to be a vintage italian whisky decanter, according to this random old guy in the salvation army who was a 'decanter expert' of sorts. He had his own business card and everything!) and then we headed up to the school to do some work. We stayed there 'till about 7:30, then headed home and made dinner. Sunday was more of the same, except that I woke up feeling worse but I still had to head to Granville to take pictures for a project on Vernacular Design, so yet again we bussed out to Granville, then we went to Commercial Drive. We walked down Commercial, then down Venables to the best gelato place ever, and then down to Powell to catch our bus. Basically, we walked across Vancouver whilst sick. When we got home we were both exhausted. I think that we watched Bowling for Columbine that night, and then we went to bed. 


I should've mentioned that since Friday night, up until last night I haven't slept much at all. I have just been coughing way too much and I've been too stuffed up and I haven't gotten any sleep at all. So because of that, I haven't been getting any better. So finally yesterday after getting no relief I went to a walk-in clinic and got some antibiotics. Last night was the first night that I felt like I slept at all, and this morning even though I'm still sick, I think I'm on the road to recovery! If I'm feeling a bit better later on, I think I'll try to head to school for a bit to try to finish up that project for Milo (That's due today!) and to work on the very pretty little gouache piece for Fred.


I think that I'll post some picture of some stuff we did in Communications class now.

First Day.

I had my first day of class today. It was wonderful. :)


First, it started with orientation, which was rather uneventful. It reminded me of highschool, and lots of important people talked about nothing and then at the first chance I got I grabbed my free lunch and went and hung out with Madison in the 2nd year room. 


After that, I went downstairs and waited around for our orientation to start. Finally, at 2pm, Milo and Carol showed up. We had to read and agree to the terms and conditions, and go over expectations and things... But then we got to the fun part. The first thing we had to do was choose a desk. This was rather intimidating because whatever you got, you had to sit in for the next school year. The initial pick I got was terrible. I didn't like it at all. Fortunately there were students that were absent so I was able to sneakily choose a desk much more to my liking, and in the end it was perfect. I'm really happy with the spot I got- it's sunny and at tree level and perfect to stare out of. It seems secluded from everyone else, but it is close to the front of the class for lectures. It's really ideal. I can't wait to decorate it with fanciful things. :)


Then, we got our stuff. We started with a Nikon D3000, which is a decent camera, but not as nice as my Canon. But we got two lenses, a 50-200mm along with the typical 18-55mm. We got a camera bag, and a memory card. We then received our colour kit. We got primary colours in watercolours, gouache, acrylic, and oils. We got chalk pastels, all sorts of essentials, a beautiful block or arches coldpress, along with bristol and other pads of paper. It was lovely. 


Overall my first day was really good. I'm really excited for tomorrow. :)

First Night!

It's my first night in North Vancouver...


It's been hectic. But hopefully, it will get better tomorrow. Let the birthday adventures begin!