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!

Last Day.

Wow. It's been a long time since my last post. So much to say, fill in, before I go.


I was accepted to Capilano in May. I think, that after being accepted, my world just kept going, so fast that I forgot all about this blog. When you're constantly on the go, and you're rushing towards a due-date, and you're gearing yourself up for so many things, you end up crashing. And I did. 


About a week after being accepted, I got ecoli. Not only did I get it (Most likely from some of the most disgusting fast food that I have ever eaten) while road-tripping around BC, I also happened to start feeling the effects of it when staying in downtown Victoria with Kier. For about three days, I was in some of the worst pain I ever felt, and I had to walk around, go on ferries, attend one crazy flat party, and then get back home. To make this story short, I ended up in the hospital for a week hopped up on morphine. It was not a fun experience.


By the time that I had gotten out, there was only a week and a half of my grade 12 year left. I was behind in almost all of my subjects, but all of my teachers gave me grace- and I was able to finish my grade 12 year successfully. But because I ended up missing so much school, it didn't really feel like it was done. That too felt rushed. I ended my month tumultuously with a crushing breakup that I didn't see coming, and then actually going with my ex to grad. And it ended up being one of the happiest nights that I had ever had. Grad couldn't have been much better.


As for Peter, we both took some time to think, and got back together about a month later. I'm happy, but nervous about the long distance part. But I think it'll be a good thing to be on my own and to have to grow a bit.


I got a job after my period of ecoli was up (After having ecoli you have to wait about a month to make sure you are clear of all toxins before returning to work) I got a job at the Jammery. It's a breakfast place. I cooked. It's pretty basic. 


But in my last two weeks, I had gotten an offer to help paint murals in Creston. I went there, and I not only fell in love with the scenery and the town itself, I fell in love with the processes of murals. I learned from an amazing artist, Nadine. She's been painting murals in Creston for a while. I learned so much from her, it was a great experience. It was also nice to stay on a dairy farm, and go check the cows at night and do other fun things. 


And now, I'm here. This happens to be my last day in Kelowna. I can't believe it really. Tomorrow, I'll be leaving at 5:30am and rushing off to Vancouver. I'll be unpacked and on my own by 11am. And then I'm there! And I won't be back until Christmastime. 


I'm excited, really, I am. But it just feels like it's happening way too fast. 

Interview.

Wow, it's been a long time since I posted last. Things have been a bit hectic. I successfully delivered my portfolio to Capilano on the 27th of April, and sure enough, May 3rd, I got my call for an interview at about 4pm. I was so thrilled to hear back on the Tuesday, because by 4pm I was strung out to bits, fearing that I just wouldn't get a call. 


I just got back, about fifteen or twenty minutes ago from Vancouver with my grandparents. I'll start my explanation with saying that we drove down yesterday, (Tuesday), and stayed at the Holiday Inn right around the corner from Capilano. It's a really nice hotel, however no matter how nice a hotel it is, it can't prevent my grandfather's snoring... I got a pretty bad sleep, which then felt even worse because Monday night, I fell asleep around 2:30, and woke up around 8. So this morning, I felt exhausted, and stiff. I wasn't feeling all that nervous though. I got to the university at 9:45, (my start time was 10) and Tamara (one of the nice ladies who helps coordinate the program) talked about seven of us through how today was going to work. It turned out that I had my life drawing first, then my interview, and lastly my writing test.


My life drawing turned out to be the thing I was most happy with. It was a simple arrangement, a single ornate blue vase, with flowers, a small blue jar complete with lid, and four various fruits. I had just under an hour to draw this, with willow charcoal (thank god!). I was worried that I would be given brick charcoal, which just happens to be the bane of my existence when it comes to still life. I felt like this part went really well, and I also really liked the instructor who was watching us. He reminded me of a nicer version of my current art teacher. Just before time was up, I handed mine in. Within five minutes, I realized that I hadn't completed the top of the jar. I was a bit upset about that, but overall I feel like it was a really strong drawing. 


After that, at 11, I had my interview. I walked into the room, and was greeted by two guys, Shawn and Matt. They are 3rd year and 2nd year teachers respectively. I feel that it went well, but that they were a little bit awkward, and that they didn't try to elaborate on any of the questions they were supposed to ask. They weren't interested in me, and what I had to say. I think this was more because they may not have been supposed to interview... But I'm not sure. Still, nothing went wrong, and they were satisfied with my answers. Afterwards, it turned out that another girl got Frank and Sheila, which frustrated me because they were two of the instructors at the information sessions. If I had had my interview with them, I think it would've been much more successful. 


The last part was the written tests. The first one was the creative thinking test, which I honestly think didn't go very well. I was nervous, and my mind just blanked. The first question was to come up with a 'creative, original, graphic' solution to three words without using words or numbers. The words were imprisoned, imaginary, and imperfect. For imprisoned I drew a pattern akin to a barcode, however not bars like a prison cell. For the second, imaginary, I drew a bunch of simple, cloudy swirls. And for the last one, I drew a curved surface with  a small knick in it. I really wasn't sure of how I could portray these things any better. I'm sure in the coming days, I'll figure out a million better solutions, but for now, that's all that I could think of. The second question was really confusing. You were supposed to come up with a creative solution and examples to situations where 1+1=3 (or more). I really had no idea. I was completely stuck. I desperately drew triplets, rain, and a tree. (Mom+dad=3 babies, cloud+water= rain/thunderstorm, seed+ground= tree) As I said, desperate attempts. The last question was also frustrating. there were six half-circles, and you were told to complete them by drawing something with each that made either a central theme or a set, and to label them. I did one of the lamest things possible: I did the sunrise, sun, sunset, and moon. I really don't know why. I had some other ideas that were less lame, but would've taken up too much time as we only had 20 minutes. After that test, I felt like crying. I was really worried. Then I realized that that test was a fairly small chunk of marks. After that, there was a grammar/essay section that was timed at 40 minutes. I was relieved at that, because I whizzed through the grammar no problem, and then wrote around six hundred words in half an hour. I felt happy with that part. Then, I was done! 


I felt like the whole thing just whipped past my face, I don't feel like it really happened. I was so tired, I tried to nap in the car many times... Now that I'm home, reflecting on it, I'm not sure how it'll go. Although some parts went really well, other things I don't think I can accurately judge. All I can do is wait for Monday, and hope that my phone rings. It's a scary thought. I warn the people that will be around me that I will be an utter mess, all day. Also, I'd like to apologize if some of this doesn't make any sense... I'm really not all here right now. I can't wait to sleep and go to bed tonight. Tomorrow will bring me one day closer to knowing.

Scared.

Two days.
That's all that I have left between me and the deadline for my portfolio. I'm scared. Whenever I come close to an important, art related deadline I tend to start back-peddling because I'm scared of being judged. This is something so important, I'm scared to have failed.


Overall, I am unhappy with my portfolio. There are some strong pieces, and lots of pieces that I personally am unhappy with. Looking back, I wish that I didn't force myself to do things I didn't want to, because now some of my pieces are lacking, and others look better because they;re things that I actually enjoy doing.


I'm really not sure how I'll take rejection, if that happens. Of course, I'll reapply next year, and stay here for a year and work (which would actually be a better idea), but staying in Kelowna would suck my love for art dry. There's no art culture here. I felt so inspired in Vancouver, yet here I have to push myself to do what I love. 


I'm terrified of what the next few weeks will bring.

13 days.

Today marks the 13th day in my countdown before I must hand my portfolio in. I've getting really nervous. My self doubt has overshadowed my confidence, and I feel almost helpless because I'm so far behind. I'm worried that my portfolio won't have enough pieces in it, and that I'll be rejected. I've put my all into what I've done, and now I can really do nothing to change my artist decisions and directions. I can only hope that Capilano will decide that I am what they want, and that I can do what they ask of me. 

If I am lucky enough to receive an interview, I think that I will be accepted. Because although a portfolio speaks volumes about the person, sometimes they have to meet you, ask you questions, and see how well you perform under pressure. I think that that may be the deciding factor behind my possible acceptance- that I want this more than anything, and that I will do what it takes to be there in September.

sick.

I haven't posted in so long. I've been so busy that I've gotten out of the habit of writing on here. Also, after my last blog post I wasn't quite sure what to say. Sometimes when you write something that has an impact on others, you get scared of writing something else because it won't be as prominent.


I've done so much lately, but sadly I'm still behind in my schedule for my portfolio. I really only have about three and a half weeks left, which is terrifying. I'm not close to being done everything. There is so much going on in my life I've been feeling incredibly overwhelmed. So, of course, I get sick. Sometimes I work myself to this point of being susceptible to illness. Sadly, even though I feel like crap I still need to work.


I've promised myself that after spring break is done, that I will photograph all of my current work and post it for everyones input. I'm nervous because I don't know what everyone will think of my stuff, especially since it's all tailored to my portfolio, and virtually none of it is the style I'd really like to work in. Powering through all of this work is proving challenging. I feel bad for Peter sometimes because he has to deal with my frustrations constantly. I'm always doubting myself, no matter the quality I produce.


Anyways. I just wanted to start posting again. I know I'll post more frequently when my portfolio is done, but until then, I'll post when I can.

little bits.

Tonight I was watching some of my boyfriend's families home videos. They were short little clips from 2001, and they were all of Christmas of that year. In them, there were snippets of a grandfather who had passed away before I'd come into the picture. It was an odd thing to see, in a pulling-on-the-heartstrings sort of way. I saw little bits of a man who influenced the life of someone I love in inalterable ways. Ever since I had heard of 'Grandad' (What the family called him), I really regretted never getting the chance to meet him. He loved to paint, and built the coolest toys out of wood for his grandchildren. There are still quite a few of these planes and boats in Peter's (my boyfriend's) room. Things like these, little bits of someone's life who is now no longer here, make me incredibly sad. As I watched these tiny clips of video (as the early 2000's couldn't do long clips) I was able to see tiny things that Grandad did. I saw him strolling on a dock with the rest of his family, one of his old film cameras hanging from his neck. The clip is only about 7 seconds long, but just seeing how he took things in, walked around, interacted with his family... Its a bittersweet thing to watch. Almost two years ago I started dating Peter, and the first time that he talked about his Grandad I realized how much this man meant to him, and still means to him. Ever since that day I've been taking in little bits of information about this man to try to piecemeal my way to understanding what he was like. Sadly I'll never truly know everything because I will never get to meet him. But seeing the videos of him just doing the simplest of things helped me understand just a little more.  


I wish that my parents had documented my childhood more. There were lots of pictures of me from birth to about three. After that, pictures of me became few and far between. There's no video of me, but there were some tape recordings that my dad and I unearthed years ago- sadly those most likely were thrown out. They were nothing special, I had only gotten ahold of a microphone and I was just babbling away about nonsense and pancakes. But that tape was extremely important to me, because it was from a time where life seemed so easy. It was most likely less than a year before my dad declared bankruptcy, and I would've been no older than four years old. But at that moment, I was so happy and I had no worries. I miss those times. Obviously you can't go back to that once you know the things you do, but there are days where I wish I could look back at my childhood, and everything would be documented. There are so many holes in the time periods between pictures. My mother, when I was born, bought a baby book for me and never wrote in it. I don't blame her, it's hard to raise a child. But now, when I ask her things like what my first word was or when I first learned to walk, she can't answer me. She tells me, "Your first word was something like 'Dada' or 'Mama'. Something really typical like that." That's something that I will never know now for sure. All of my infancy nothing besides pictures were recorded, and now all of that information is lost. Peter is so lucky that his mom thought that that information was important, because now we will always remember things like that Peter went through a phase where he wouldn't believe anything anyone told him. He knows his first words, when he learned to walk, and what he did for the first 12 months of his life. I wish I could've known things like that about myself. When I have kids one day, I'll do that for them. I'll take boxes and boxes of pictures and keep small things and put everything all together so that when they grow up, they'll be able to reconnect with their childhood. 


These tiny little pieces of information are so valuable, and sometimes they are the only things that we have left of the people that are gone. Things like a twenty second video of Grandad basting a turkey or Peter talking about guinea pigs... Those are things that allow people to remember the small things forever. Memories fade so quickly, but these little bits can last a lifetime.

$

Sorry for the lack of update for the past few days. Even though I know that no one really reads this, I can't let myself stop posting. Otherwise I'll get back into my non-existant routine of... Not doing anything.


Money. It's a pretty powerful thing. And right now, I have none. It's a frustrating situation to be in. I really want to get a job, but all of the work I do on my portfolio along with my school work makes it near impossible to really get a job and make money. And, because I'm working on my portfolio, I can't take on any commissions. I can't think of anything else I could do besides try to sell my crap that really isn't worth much or interesting to anyone.


I've also been really unmotivated. After finishing my big piece, I'm just so tired and I really don't want to touch anything art-related. I just want to relax, sleep, an hang out with my friends. I kind of miss being a normal teenager. Because of how much work I have, it's hard to maintain everything. There's this picture that exists on the internet that most modern-day students know about. It's a triangle with one thing in each corner: Sleep, Good Grades, and Social Life are the choices. Above the triangle it says, 'You can only pick two.' For me, sadly, I've picked Good Grades and Sleep. However, there's this invisible, nagging choice that many don't have to deal with: a Portfolio. It's extremely time consuming, exhausting, and drains you of almost every creative and non-creative juices from your body. The physical Portfolio itself just sits there passively in the corner, silently saying, "I should be filled with amazing creations... Why haven't you created anything?" I feel guilty because of my laziness. I know that my wisdom teeth set me back a little, but now I just want to relax and sleep and not worry about my portfolio. It's a bad cycle I've gotten myself into, and now I regret doing so. This week I need to get my Art Nouveau piece done. No more hesitation. It's not exactly a hard thing to do, and I am really excited to work with gouache and watercolour and acrylic ink, but I'm just a slow starter. 


I also need to take pictures of all of my pieces I have currently done and post them to my deviantart. Once done, I'll connect my deviantart to here for all to see. 


Anyways, I'm going to think about what I should do this week, and then I'll post a list to remind myself. :)

Gouache.

I just got a starter set of Gouache yesterday. I've never used it before, but it looks like a fantastic medium to work with. I'll hopefully post some of my experiments with the medium soon. :)


Yesterday Alex Fong came into our art class to giv us a demonstration. I was really excited for it because he's a fantastic watercolour artist and some of the stuff he does is really cool. Watercolour is a medium that I'm not particularly good at but I love the way it looks and the texture you can create with it. I've never had the patience or forgiving nature to deal with watercolour, I always want to be able to perfect the outcome and create exactly what I envision. Alex's techniques were really interesting, I loved his palette that he used, he left all of his colour dried on it to allow it to meld with eer other colour. He explained something that I have always known, but never put into use. Colours in real life are never vibrant. They always have some sort of greyish tinge to them. If you were to try to purposely mix a certain colour, even if you were to try to add some sort of grey to it it would simply look unnatural. 
Why? Because most greys are made up of other colours blending together. I was really inspired by Alex's palettes and decided to get one of my own. I'm going to play around with watercolour and gouache this week to try to get some sort of handle on the techniques in watercolour. 


Currently I'm at the college relaxing because in about half an hour I get to go sand and paint the bag of my big piece and put some supports onto the back of it. Hopefully, when Greedy takes it to the art gallery tomorrow he'll be able to convince Renee to hang my piece in the main room and not in some secluded area. I'm worried about the specific area that they want to hang it, it will bleach the wood and wreck the piece altogether. It'll be something to think about for sure.

debating.

I'm at home again today, because last night my mouth decided to swell and my gums decided to try to take over my molars. However, today I am feeling really good, my mouth is still sore, but I got a lot of sleep and just doing some relaxing things is really refreshing. 


I got a random though today while roaming around some of the brilliant art blogs I follow...
I haven't been working very well in my sketchbook lately. I haven't been finding the time, and when I do all I do is doodle flowers and things like that. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut when it comes to sketching. So I think I've decided to switch sketchbooks. I want something smaller so that I can take it everywhere without it being so cumbersome. I have a small collection of molskine books that I have never finished using but I think that I would like a new one. I think that I am going to look for one today, or tomorrow. I feel the urge to transfer my favourite things I've done out of all of my sketchbooks into one. I feel really into collage today, and I'm itching to get into it. I'm going to look through all of my old sketchbooks and rip them apart. I need to do something new and better to refresh myself and inspire myself to create again.

Thoughts about next week.

This next week is going to be pretty hectic, I'm rather nervous about it. First, my art teacher is going to take my finished piece down to the art gallery to 'discuss' whether or not the suggestive nudity is appropriate enough to be shown in the Art in Action show. Hopefully the curator will be able to see that it really isn't about the nudity, and that it's worth putting in. If it's not put in the show, of course I'll be disappointed because of all of the work I have done on my big piece, but from the start I knew that it would be a struggle to have it shown because of the size/content.


I also start a new, short project next week for my portfolio! It's going to be a really detailed ink/gouache/acrylic ink piece that will have an Art Nouveau take on it. I'm not sure about the sizing yet, or if I'll do two or three small pieces or just one larger one. Either way, the size will range from... 11x17 to 5x7. I'm really excited to get my hands back on some traditional media that isn't in any way related to wood, graphite, or oil. I'm really done with those three things right now. 


I was supposed to read Heart of Darkness last week too, but I never got around to it... now I'm worried about what sort of project we will have to do on it, and whether or not it's worth reading. I hear it's really good, but for right now I don't feel I'd be able to enjoy it as much because I would just be rushing through the novel. I think I may as well just Sparksnote it and leave it at that.


I can't believe that February is almost over. In less than two months my portfolio will have to be finished and I will have to go through the admissions process for Capilano. I'm really nervous for that whole ordeal, it's a really serious thing and I hope that I will be considered for the top 50 at the very least, because I'm sure that if I can get to the actually tests and interviews that I can get in. If not, I'll have to stay in Kelowna for another year and as of right now I don't think that I could handle that.


Anyways, I look like a chipmunk today because my cheeks and gums decided that they should swell at random for my third day of recovery. As I type, I am cradling an icepack between my cheek and shoulder. :/ Today has really sucked. At least it's been relaxing, I like that this break has come right after completing my big piece, I really have needed this down time all of February. 


I think I'm going to go play some pointless games like the Sims now. :)

Feeling good.

Today has been feeling a lot better on the whole wisdom teeth subject. I've successfully eaten a whole mound of vanilla pudding, along with some jello and chicken broth.

Today I have spent my day wondering about how time can heal things. There are things that have happened in my life that were extremely traumatic at the time, but now looking back they all just blend into the past. That's something that has been given to almost all of us- the ability to slowly forget, to smooth out the crinkles that cause us pain. Without this, I feel I would be a much weaker, more scared person. I would find it so much harder to overcome everything that I have. I've certainly led a better life that many people, I have never lived on the streets or have been physically abused. But sometimes I don't think that people get what I have been through. There are people with faint ideas, but most people just don't know. I have a feeling that everyone feels understood like I do to a certain degree, no matter what kind of life they have lived. Regardless of any factors, I think it can be agreed that the ability to forget is something that can be considered priceless. 

There have been cases where people can remember everything though, and that possibility terrifies me. I've watched videos on different people who can remember everything with such clarity and perfect recall that to the general public, it comes off as eerie. If I were one of these people who just couldn't forget, no matter how hard I tried, I'd go insane. I don't think I could handle remembering everything.

Wisdom.

I got my wisdom teeth out today. It was an... interesting experience. I didn't expect it to be like that. I was completely scared of the procedure, and in some ways, it was scary. It's a procedure that almost everyone has to go through, and it seems that everyones experience goes through something different. 


I'm just happy it's over. The recovery has been a breeze so far, I feel really lucky. Apparently I am a tank when it en it comes to drugs. The laughing gas took a long time to take effect, I had to be refrozen multiple times and my freezing wore off within half an hour of getting up. I sobered from the gas incredibly fast, and I also felt no grogginess from it. It's kind of weird. The T-3's are the same thing. I'm completely aware just like when I was on the laughing gas, and I'm still not sleepy.


This has been a really odd day. Hopefully tomorrow I can pig out on pudding and jello pain-free.

Beginning.

"Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?" -Frida Kahlo

   Frida was an amazing woman. She was so strong, and powerful, and  emotional. She was determined, she fought for what she wanted and created the most moving art I have ever seen. When she painted, she not only bared her entire self to her audience, but she also forced reactions. She painted such graphic things sometimes, and she was brilliant. To this day I have never found an artist like her. After seeing her artwork, she inspired me to paint. She inspired me to do so many things, and one of them is to express myself as many ways as possible.

   This is one of them. I've decided to start a new blog to share many things, not just emotions, but my thoughts and inspirations. I want to document my last few months in high school and what happens afterwards. I'm hoping that because of this blog that people will be able to see just a little bit into my life and understand what I'm going through. Lots of people I know don't truly understand what it takes to be an artist. Sometimes I forget that myself. But now I am going to keep this blog and write in it as often as possible because I need to have something to remind myself of why I am doing all of this. I want this so badly. I want to get in to Capilano, I want to be successful and do everything that I want to do and see in life. And I think that this will help.