LA Recap and Most Glorious Minecraft

Alright, so I've done it. I had a lovely vacation with Max in LA. Did I seen the sights? Did I mingle with the people and feel the heartbeat of the city?

Nah.

I don't want to go into great detail about the whole thing, but it was a really fun trip. Didn't see too many major things, except for Grauman's Chinese Theatre, and all the celebrity cement handprints, which was really cool. The total highlights of that was getting to touch the ones made by the Marx Brothers and John Wayne. Sounds lame, but it did give me shivers. While we were in Anaheim, I didn't get to go to Disneyland because it cost too much money, and Max was judging the Anaheim MTG Grand Prix, so I mostly hung out by myself and played a lot of Minecraft. I did get to meet all of this judge friends, and they were all really nice people! I've heard so much about all of them from Max that I felt like I already knew them. I just wish I hadn't been so fucking shy. See, sometimes I so outspoken that it's kind of ridiculous, but others times I just clam up and become a bundle of anxiety. It was cool to see Max working too, because you can see how much he cares about running a good event. Also, he looks handsome in his judge shirt.

I've actually kind of caved to the idea of learning how to play Magic. The only reason I've resisted for so long is because I really hate looking bad at things, and it seems like there are a lot of complicated rules to Magic. I didn't want to look like that typical girl, who's only playing because her boyfriend does. Magic is also Max's thing, and I didn't want him to feel like I was smothering him at all. But seeing the Grand Prix made it look like a lot of fun, so I'm going to give it a go. I know Max is probably overjoyed that I've finally given in after 5 years.

So all of that was fun, but really, the greatest part of the vacation was 5 consecutive days with Max. And the second greatest part was the Hilton hotel we stayed at in Anaheim. I wanted to pull some Ocean's 11 shit and steal that bed. It was just about the greatest thing I've ever slept in.

Now I'm back, and real life creeps in once again. I got fucked over with my taxes, and the bastards said I've been "disallowed" for my Working Income Tax Benefit. That was going to be almost $800 that I could have used to pay for school in September! And they gave it to me every other year, so I don't see what the problem was. They didn't even tell me why I was disallowed, only that I should refer to lines 323 and 5658 of my tax package. So there's that hardship, but it's not really the end of the world. I'll just have to work even harder this summer to save up enough money for it. I'm not too worried, it's just that that money would have made everything a little bit easier.

You may have noticed that I mentioned Minecraft up there. I will readily admit that I am seriously obsessed with playing. It's kind of bad because I'm getting absolutely nothing done, but it's great because... because Minecraft. What's that? You don't play Minecraft? Well you fucking should. I could go on and on about the most sick mountain fortress I've created, and the journey I'm about to go on to find an NPC village so I can steal all of their things, but not tonight. It's already very late, and I've got some crafting to do, and some supplies to gather. And you know, sleep and all that good stuff.

I'll just leave this here.

A Versatile Blogger? Moi?

Goodness! I go away for, oh, a month and a half, and when I come back someone nominates me for the Versatile Blogger Award! Thank you very kindly, Sharra! Nice of you to think of me. I guess this means I should go away for even longer and see what else gets thrown my way.

The rules are:
1. Nominate 15 fellow bloggers who are relatively new to blogging
2. Let them know that you have nominated them.
3. Share 7 random facts about yourself.
4. Thank the bloggers who have nominated you.
5. Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your post

As per one of the requirements for this, I will now put down 7 Random Facts About Myself:

1) As a young child, I would blindfold myself and practice walking around my house in this sightless state, until I knew where absolutely everything was with my eyes closed.

2) I have mild scoliosis. My spine is curved ever so slightly, and as a result, my shoulders are noticeably crooked when I stand up straight. You wouldn't think that such a small curve would matter, but it is incredibly agonizing so much, though not as terribly in recent years.


3) I believed in faeries (age 14) for longer than I believed in God (age 9). Just... just shut up about it, okay?


4) Going to be honest here. I think I have some form of body dysmorphic disorder. I don't really want to get into details about it just now, but let's just say that catching sight of my reflection can ruin my entire day.


5) I've developed a really bizarre fear. I am constantly worried that while I'm on the bus, someone behind me is going to cut my hair off. I don't know where this came from, but it is a great source of anxiety for me.


6) In another time, I really wanted to be a librarian. Sometimes I still think about doing it. But one look at the courses in the 4 year program cured me of this desire. Boooooring.

7) My family and I like to pretend that our dog, Macey, is actually a princess that got turned into a dog. Yup.

I absolutely do not know 15 other bloggers, so I will just nominate a few:

Tanis - I hope this encourages you to update more often!
Christina - Likewise to you, lady.


In actuality, I feel terrible about neglecting this for so long. But you know how it goes. School ends for the summer, and then you start working 40 hours a week. Well, maybe that doesn't happen to everyone, but it is totally happening to me, and while I am dog-tired by the end of the day, I am raking in fat stacks of cash that are allowing me to go out and spend money on art supplies and, you know, food. Okay, okay, and the occassional skirt or dress. Those are essentials too.

I am taking one course this summer, a Modern Art class. It's a requirement to get into the second year of my Fine Arts program, so I'm not taking it because I want to, and believe me, the first two days of it were AGONY. Honestly, I can't stand critiquing art, and as you'll soon find, I have a lot to say about the subject. It just bothers me that pretty much everything that it discussed or thought of about a certain pieve is purely speculation on the part of the viewer, unless specifically set down by the artist themself. Seriously, people can make up so much bullshit about a single painting.

I just find the act of making these things up to be completely pointless, for both parties, actually. This is what I wrote in my notebook during class when I should have been taking down important facts:

"It doesn't matter what I think about a piece of art, because the artist is only going to take into account what they intended for said piece. It doesn't matter what the artist thinks about their piece, because I will always take away what I want from said piece."

I also added at the end "Therefore, creating art with meaning and intent is arbitrary and irrelevent.", which is technically true according to my own statement above, but I think that can be left up to debate. Anyhow, what was once a hated class is now a much anticipated one, because while I mostly disagree with everything the teacher says (if Giacometti and Bacon said that they weren't existentialists, can't we just take their word for it?!) it is giving me the opportunity to form a bunch of my own ideas on the subject, so that's something exciting.

Okay, I really wanted to write a whole bunch more, but it is now 12:11 am and I have to get up early, because I have my Art History class tomorrow, and I'm going to LA on Wednesday with Max for 5 days, and I haven't really packed for that yet. Ooooops. But I am going to update more frequently for sure, because I really missed doing this. Also, this blog has had almost 13,000 pageviews? I find that... surprising. I mean, in the grand scheme of the Internet, numbers like 13,000 are meaningless, but it's still interesting. Like, why? I'm not really saying anything, am I? Well, I'm thinking about talking about Art History a lot more, so maybe people will like that.

Anyhow, pip-pip cheerio and all that good stuff, children.

PS. The sickest song? The sickest song. Thank you to KC Green of Gunshow, for englightening me in the ways of Javelin.

Commissions

I've recieved my first commission today! A friend of mine texted me this morning to tell me that she's removing all her old pictures and posters from her wall, and she would like me to make her some new things to put up! She's even going to pay me, which is something I was not expecting at all. To be honest, the business end of art always makes me uncomfortable. I don't know how to determine cost of an object like a drawing or a painting. I suppose it's suppose it's suppose to at least equal the cost of materals and time put into the work, but if I'm doing a drawing, my materials are going to be pencils, erasers and pens (of which I've accumulated many), and maybe thick rag paper, which costs $6 tops per sheet, and comes big enough that I could squeeze 2 drawings out of it. Of course, since she's a friend, I'm not going to charge her an arm and a leg. Maybe I'll look around the internet and try to figure out how this stuf works...

Other than figuring out marketing/business bullshit, I'm totally excited. I just need to find out what she's looking for, and how many/how big she wants them, and then I'm going to get started. She said that my deadline is from now until I die, so that's pretty nice. I'll try and finish them all by the end of the summer though.

Today I have my Art History final exam, and I must confess, I've barely studied for it. But strangely, I'm not worried. The format for the exam is 3 short essays based on comparing and contrasting the different subject matters. I am the queen of this stuff. Okay, maybe I should have studied a little bit more. Oh well.

And finally, today is my little brother's birthday. He's now 17 years old. Jesus, where does the time go? I remember him when he was a roly-poly baby. Now he's almost an adult. Oy vey.

Spend All Winter Wantin' Summer Like You Couldn't Bear The Cold

Well, I've done it. School is done until September.

I can't even describe this euphoria. It also helps that today was an absolutely warm, gorgeous April day, but goddamn, I feel good. Also, I got drunk, truly drunk, for the first time in my life today. Now, I don't want to glorify or condone drinking at all, but when you're drinking on the last day of school with all your buddies in a packed Student Union Building... it's a pretty good time. I was pretty silly and swaying by the end of it.

Ah, my friends. Honestly, I think I would have dropped out if it hadn't been for them. Sarah, Miriam, Melissa, Chanel, Garion and Kim... I really wouldn't have made it through this first year if it hadn't been for you guys. You're some of the best friends I could have ever asked for, and I hope we're all friends for a long, long time.

God, I'm just so overwhelmed with giddiness and good-feelings right now. I'm listening to some good music, I'm thinking about all the art I want to make over the summer, and there's apple pie in the fridge downstairs. I don't mean to sound like those obnoxious happy people that nobody can stand, but please, bear with me. I'm normally enveloped by this aura of self-loathing, so this is a pleasant reprieve.

Also? Got my order from Teefury.com today. They had a grab bag event awhile ago, where you could buy up to 12 printed t-shirts for $6 each, so I ordered 4. I got:

-a Ravenclaw shirt (not overly thrilled, to be honest. I'm going to find someone to give it to)
-a TMNT shirt
-a Regular Show shirt (did not expect this AT ALL. Super stoked)
-a Firefly shirt (I almost bought this one earlier, and so did Chanel. Lucky x10000000000)

So it's been a good day.

A Day At A Time

Well, there you have it, folks. It's been one whole year since Yasaman (Autumn) Rahnamay died. I can actually remember sitting down and writing the blog entry for March 8th 2011. (Again, I'm sorry Yasaman, but I just can't call you Autumn. It feels wrong, like I'm talking about a different person). I remember reading somewhere that the first year is always the hardest, because you're just constantly thinking "This time last year, she was still alive." Maybe it'll be easier from now on. Less fucked up.

Nah.

I would be a liar if I said that Yasaman's death hadn't changed me. And I feel guilty for that almost every day, because really, who am I to feel so fucked up about this? We were friends in grade 8 and part of grade 9, and then I never saw her again. Her parents and brother and family are allowed to feel like this. Her new friends from Port Coquitlam and SFU are allowed to feel like this. I feel like I'm just some schmuck getting choked up about it all the time. I feel like I'm being a pussy.

I did think of a reason why this might be bothering me so much, obvious reasons aside. See, I had never experienced the death of someone close to me before. My grandparents were all dead by the time I was 6 years old, and while I can remember bits and pieces of my nonna's funeral, it didn't have an impact on me at all. Yasaman is the first of people I would consider close to me to die. Other people have, by now, at least been old enough to see their grandparents die and have it affect them. But this is the first instance in my life where death hit really close to home.

Even a year past, I still think about her almost every day. She's become a sort of driving force for me. A month before she died, Yasaman commented on a picture that I'd drawn and posted on Facebook. "Proportion = excellent", and then you implied that my stuff reminded you of Alex Grey's work. I think about that comment a lot, whenever I'm feeling like a failure of an artist. Actually, I was always jealous of the doodles she would make when we were in school together. Just little things, but they were so amazing. I was surprised that she never pursued art (Guess you had more sense than that, huh?). She drew me something once, but I've since lost it. Damn.

I have changed though, somewhere in my psyche. I am now terrified of the people around me dying, especially Max and my family. And what's more fucked up? I've imagined all the funerals, for everyone. You too, Tanis. I know. That's fucked up, right? I just feel like I'm hyper aware of death now. I collect the goddamn obituaries out of newspapers now (only from The Province). I've done tons of independent research on mourning practices from other cultures and different forms of burial. Also, I'm having a hard time keeping it in my head that she;s dead. I forget a lot, or think that I just imagined the whole thing. It's stupid. I have to remind myself, and remember the funeral to make it stick. God, that funeral... It's going to haunt me for the rest of my life. Her tiny casket...

The only thing that has flourished from Yasaman's death (remember I said that I don't like all the cop-out terms people use about death? Yeah, I still don't like them) is that I have become much more in touch my atheism, and that brings me a lot of peace. I looked into that a lot too, and started reading books on the subject and thinking more about it. I know Yasaman isn't in any afterlife, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Though I will admit that I frequently want to know what certain stages of decomposition look like. I KNOW, OKAY? I KNOW. IT'S FUCKED. I CAN'T HELP IT. Yet I can't bring myself to Google such things, because as much of an atheist as I am, I'm still a human being that would rather remember her friend has the absolutely gorgeous young woman that she was, rather than what she's becoming. Also, I think Yasaman would appreciate the grisliness of this.

...Okay, I know I mentioned this before in an April 17th post from last year, but I frequently like to imagine her as a ghost. Yes, it goes against what I believe, but it makes me happy in a bittersweet way. I am going to write a comic book one day with her (or someone like her; I wouldn't want to tarnish her memory in any way) with this as the plot: Ghost of a recently deceased girl gets the chance to roam around the world and see places and things she otherwise never would have been able to experience. She could talk to all her long dead idols, and hell, let's throw a cute ghost boy in there for good measure. I could wish for just one thing to be true, I would wish for this. That she was still seeing things, more than the living could ever hope to see.

Ahhh, sad thoughts for a sad night. It's stupidly late now, and I wanted to write something more deserving of her, but I'm spent for now. I still cry, Yasaman. I still remember. I think I'm going to try and find that roadside memorial and leave you some flowers. If you could still think I know you tell me I'm being dumb. Oh well, guess I'm just a dumb girl then.

Everyone misses you.

Yasaman (Autumn) Rahnamay

November 3rd, 1990 - March 8th, 2011

PS. I watched "Life in a Day" a couple of hours ago. Remember on Youtube, they wanted everyone to film a day in their lives for July 24th, 2010. They made an amazing documentary out of it. I cried more than once, sometimes because something was so nice and beautiful, and sometimes because things were so sad. I will warn you, there are a few things in there that are not for the faint of heart. But you should watch it, because it's a beautiful time capsule of a day in our world. This song from it is amazing, and makes me feel... hopeful? Something along those lines.

It's Alive!

I'm sorry that I've practically abandoned this. I just have no time for anything.

I was just staring absently into the distance, when I should have been working on my Art History paper, and lamenting the time that I am going to be spending in school.

I miss Max. I miss sleeping. I miss being healthy and having time to eat properly. I miss having money, and being able to travel if I need to. I just have this constant anxiety quietly gnawing away inside of me. Compared to previous years, I'm much better at controlling it now, but Art History is making it worse. It's the first academic course I've taken in at least 2 years, and it's like I forgot how to think anyway but visually. I can't draw my way out of this, I have to do research papers.

The paper I'm trying to write is about The Book of Kells (one page specifically, the Chi Rho page), a really cool, ancient illustrated bible from Ireland. Stunning artwork. I encourage everyone to take a look at it. It's my current obsession. But damn it all if I am not being continuously fucked over by this paper.

We had to make a very specific thesis pertaining to the subject matter. I decided to do something about how the early Christian missionaries used the native Celtic art to aid them in swaying the people towards a new faith. My rationale behind this is that it would have been easier for the Celtic people to associate with the gospels and the word of God if it was presented to them in a style that they were familiar with. That's all good stuff, but I have no idea how to keep this from deteriorating into an opinion essay. It's easy to say these things, but I need to find evidence to back this up, and I have NO idea how to find it. To be honest, this is completely my fault. My professor told the class about this paper when the semester started in January, and here I am, a week before the paper is due, distressing because I have a thesis but nothing else. It's only a 3-5 page paper, but it's worth 20% of my mark.

So, what do? I think I have a good thesis, but no way to back it up. I'm going to ask my professor for her opinion tomorrow, but I'm just so consumed by stress right now. On top of this, I have projects and homework for all of my other classes. My intaglio print is due on Wednesday, my wood sculpture is due on Thursday, and I still have Drawing homework to complete. There are simply not enough hours in the day to get everything done, especially when you're having rather severe motivational problems. Now, I know once I get some sleep, I'll feel better about everything in the morning. But it doesn't take away from the fact that I need to seriously hustle from now on. No more fucking around, dude. You're better than this.

Yes, I constantly speak to myself. I need positive reinforcement from somewhere, and I'm the only person I'll take seriously. When other people say these things to me, I just assume that they're saying what they think is the appropriate thing to say. That's horrible, I know, but it's true. Even when Max tells me these things, I can never just enjoy a compliment or a word of encouragement, because I don't believe that anyone really means these things. I first noticed this when I used to regularly write. People would read my poems/stories and tell me that they were so amazing, but all I could think was "What do you know about good writing?" And most of them knew nothing. They couldn't tell good writing from shitty writing, so I could never take their word for anything. And still, this trend continues with art. I draw something and people congratulate me on a job well done, but they don't know anything about the differences between good and bad art. I drew a pretty lame picture for a friend of mine who makes cards for people as a hobby. She wanted to show a couple looking through a telescope together (a gift to a couple she knew for Valentine's Day, who loved telescopes). I had completely forgotten about it, and remembered on the day that she was expecting me to give it to her. So I rushed and drew a fairly lame picture before I rushed off to work. I was actually embarrassed to give it to her. But she GUSHED over it. This just proved what I had always thought. These compliments can't mean anything to me because people will pat me on the head for producing low-effort, shit-grade art. Trust issues? Self-worth issues? Oh hell yes. Do I tell many people about this? No. I think I've only mentioned it to Max in an off-handed way once or twice. I guess now you all know.

Again, I'll feel better about all this once I get some sleep, but right now I'm just daydreaming about summer, and the semester being over so I can enjoy waking up every morning again. Yeah, yeah, I can hear you there, Depression. Just shut up for a moment so I can get this paper done.

End of an Era

Kim Jong Il is dead.

I know, I haven't updated in a long time, but this is an incredibly worthy subject to toss around here.

I'd been spending the evening with Max, and had just gotten in the door when I caught a glance of the BBC news coverage. All I saw was a quick glimpse of an image of the man and what I thought was the word "dead".

"Dad... what... what did that say?"
"Kim Jong Il died! It was announced a couple of hours ago."

I dropped my backpack and ran to open the door. Max hadn't even gotten halfway past the front of the house yet. "Max!" I called. He stopped, and I put my hands on the stair railing. "Kim Jong Il is dead." We just stared at each other for a few moments in stunned silence. Then we said goodbye again, and he continued on his way home and I went inside again.

I was seriously stunned. Max and I had mused about the subject, since it was obvious that we would see his decline in our lifetime. I knew that he was already sick, but the bad guys always have a way of clinging to life when you really don't want them to, so I just assumed he would be sticking around for another couple of years. But this changes everything. This is a turning point in history that we're witnessing. I have no idea what's going to happen next, and from the way that the news is talking, neither does the rest of the world. On 4chan, someone posted "I feel like the world is getting cleaner, better... I'll sleep well tonight."

I agree. Yet another tyrant has bit the dust, and the ones that are left are (hopefully) starting to feel scared. But I don't know how well I'll sleep tonight, because there are a lot of questions. Like... what's next?

Kim Jong Il's third son, 27 year old Kim Jong Un, is set to be his successor, and doesn't appear to be ready to take the reins of his entire crazy country. According to some people, he'd like nothing more than to declare war on South Korea. I feel so sorry for South Korea right now, because they must be terrified. North Korea has a HUGE army, and while there are other countries that would definitely step up and defend South Korea, it's still a crazy prospect. Right now I'm just fervently hoping that the US doesn't decide to stick their nose in until it's necessary, because whatever the US does, Canada is sure to follow, and going to war with a country like North Korea is less than savory. I know that the US Navy recently set up a giant ship out there. I'm just really hoping that they wait and see where this is going to go before trying to play the hero.

Mostly, I would love to see North Korea liberated of it's insanity, but that's obviously not an easy people. They've been spoon-fed so much crazy bullshit by two separate dictators for so long, so my wish for the future is that they get to join the rest of the world one day.These kinds of regimes never last forever, so it was only a matter of time before it eventually happened, but seeing it happen is pretty amazing. I feel like everyone's holding their breath right now.

Ah, that was all a little rambling up there. I'm just really tired from being awake forever, and I can't think straight right now because all these future possibilities are whirling around in my head. What does this mean for the rest of the world? I feel like "excited" is the wrong word to use here, but yes, I'm almost excited. Change is coming, but is it going to be good? Or bad?

EDIT: Also, I find it incredibly disturbing that practically NOBODY is discussing this on Facebook. This is a big deal, people! As soon as I found out that he had died, I raced to my computer to see what what people online were saying about all this. Only two people I know (and they're not even people that I know very well) even bothered mentioning it. Loads of people were talking about Gaddafi, so why is no one acknowledging the death of another crazy dictator? It's not like it's not being well publicized. Or does nobody actually care?