Required (preferred) Readings.

Especially interesting exerts from ‘Am I Normal? The Questions of Sex’
– which I just read for my ‘Intro to Sexuality Research’ class…

Required (preferred) Readings. | This is (not) Romance..

Advertisements

A run on rant about meeting boys at bars, taking chances and one night stands. | This is (not) Romance.

He seemed lovely and we had a lot of fun dancing and he’s a photo-journalist who’ll be interning at Vice. So these are all excellent qualities, and we smoked cigarettes outside and he was friends with everybody and… continued here.

Like shut up, I can’t get off the internet.

Earlier tonight I clicked a link posted by a FB friend leading to this fantastic post by my new favorite blogger: Am I A Hypocrite For Professing Radical Self Love While Wearing 5 Inch Heels? The Intersection Between Fashion, Personal Expression & Loving Who You Are www.galadarling.com.

Her blog is endless in itself and filled with links to other incredible sites, so I’ve been stuck in the internet since, reading/looking at things like:

Add that to checking up on all of the other lovely lady bliggers I’ve been following lately like Model Burn Book, Rachel Rabbit, Slutever, Jane-in-bedHeadspace (n.) and the whole universe of Thought Catalog, and I may never leave my bedroom again.

Except yes I will.

But seriously, it’s dangerous, there’s so much to see and read and feel inspired by. I’m so easily distracted by wanting to absorb it all, while also trying to write and create my own work (and do things like clean or whatever).

The internet feels like an endless buffet of every kind of food you can imagine,
and I love food. Talk about over stimulation.

Take Back the City – It Will Be Ok

Guardian Moose at Slow Pub.

Take back the city, part three… continued…

Alleyway art in the Cathedral.

-I sent in my applications to the Fine Arts programs at NSCAD in Halifax, and Concordia in Montreal! Exciting! They of course had to be (expensively) UPS’d there so they’d arrive overnight due to stupid procrastination and a near death wrestling match with technology that I should really be familiar with by now in my internet age adolescence. I wont hear back for a couple of months, but I should be hearing back from Emily Carr any day now!

So between that and waiting for 3 years worth of tax returns+GST cheques,
I’ve been totally stalking my mailbox.

-Since this city is severely lacking in specialty thrift and vintage stores, I decided to gather together some friends who are all collectors of such things and had a two day sale at the Creative City Center. We had a really good turn out and it was so much fun. The weekend had me day dreaming of living in studio apartments and sharing warehouse spaces with other artists (not like these aren’t things I dream of anyways).

So, we’ve been talking about making it a regular thing, since we’ll be collecting (saving) these precious things regardless, (and it’s questionable whether Regina has the population to sustain a full time store) having a pop up shop just makes sense. We haven’t discussed details (like coming up with a name) yet but I’ll write about them when they’re happening.

We also climbed out onto the CCC roof, which has the most incredible view of the city… but those photos deserve their own blog post.

-The city seems to be bursting with events and shows and creative synergy.

This week alone I went to Combat Improv, Caracol at the Exchange, dance party mayhem at O’Hanlons, the UofR BFA opening reception at the Mackenzie Art Gallery, John Vaughn’s closing reception and sound art performance (literally mind exploding) at RobBos Art Project Gallery, Divas at the Owl, the dance party aftermath of Combat Dance presented by Fada at the Artesian, dance-aholic-a-thon at the gay bar and ‘Carnage’ at the RPL. Like so many incredible things and places and people.

It’s funny how having lived here my whole life it can often feel like I’ve met everyone I can possibly meet in Regina, and then all of a sudden, I’m meeting all of these new people at once. People who like to do the same things and go to the same kinds of events that I do and I think, ‘like how have I never met you before? Have you been here all along and I just never noticed?’

I recently had an art therapy session where something we discussed was my obsession with leaving the city, moving away, travelling, and how that has yet to happen. I’ve had it in my brain since I as a kid that as soon as I could, I would move far far away. Since graduating highschool however, I’ve discovered various obstacles and personal realisatons that I think I needed to face and overcome before I could ever be ready to leave, like living on my own and establishing commited art practices.

In that time I also discovered a great love for Regina, and a great love for the “art scene” I grew up in. One which I took advantage of until taking a step back and realizing how incredible it really is(although not without some setbacks). In my dark depressed days of winter however, (regardless of mild weather) I got so lost in this feeling of “I shouldn’t be here” and hating on myself because I am. (this emotional state is particularly dismal for creativity) It was only after listening to this feeling, and realizing, that I’m (still) here for a reason, and more importantly, that my life here is worth while and beautiful and interesting, that it seems the whole city is responding to me (or I’m responding to it?).

My therapist, Karen, said that I would never be truely happy here, to be in the moment and to appreciate my life for what it is when/if I was constantly fixated on leaving. She said that once I put a rest to those feelings for now, and was present for my experiences, then the oportunities, and the luck would come, and they are. It’s a difficult concept, to put your desires aside and trust things happen the way they’re supposed to, but it seems to be working. So I’m taking back the city (into my heart).

Alley way art Downtown.

Patterns

Not writing what I intended to,
only what I never knew I needed to know.

Learning lessons while evesdropping on my own thoughts.

Sometimes in the silence I hear nothing but the voices of others.
And yet, when surrounded by so many, the music and conversations of hundreds,
my own voice calls out clearly to my fingers.

Sometimes these fingers know more than can be told,
knowing me best when I’m distracted.

Not wanting to rhyme,
I prefer to make sense of what you didn’t think possible,
to find the beauty in what others miss.

Who says florals can’t go with stripes?

i had a daydream that taught me this.

daily grind eroding heart.
the young loving older because they are what they long to be.
the old longing for young because they are what they miss.
innocence is lost not in trauma,
but in the steps taken to overcome the ache.
suppress it or embrace it.
the sheer act of living will age you.