My Quirky City

New Year, New City, New Blog Format, New Blog Location

2011-12-28T07:30:00.002-05:00

It's the end of 2011, and I've decided to make some changes. For anyone following my blog at blogger, you can now find it here on WordPress. I made the move because I like the dashboard options better there, and because my other (professional website) is there. This will be my final post here on blogger.

In the new year I'm planning on trying to review books once a week. So hopefully you'll find more to read. First up in 2012 will be Sabrina Furminger's book, The Healer. I'd also like to write more about life in Toronto, and my experiences there.

So, if you're reading, or you get RSS feeds or emails, please update them to this new link: http://myquirkycity.wordpress.com. And if you notice anything amiss in the new site, please let me know!

Happy New Year!

Update: Merged Blogs

2011-12-06T13:30:00.002-05:00

All, Since I haven't done any reviews lately for My Quirky Reading Room, I've decided to merge it with My Quirky City. I hope any of you reading it don't mind, this is the first in a few blog moves. I will be posting a review of Sabrina Furminger's book the Healer here soon, so stay tuned! And if you're interested in health care design, please check out my website: http://hcfitzpatrick.com.

FIFA World Cup Qualifier: Canada vs St. Kitts

2011-11-18T14:30:00.000-05:00

Tuesday, my husband, brother and I took in a game at BMO stadium at the CNE grounds in Toronto. Canada played against St. Kitts and Nevis, and had a distinctly home ice advantage. I should say home field advantage, but with dropping temperatures and increasing moisture both teams slid all over the place. It was an awesome game. We had decent ($40) seats south of centre-field, four rows back.

I love soccer fans. Next to us the St. Kitts crowd yelled to cheer on their team, but more often than not, they were drowned out by the Canadians at the end. I wanted to be part of that exuberant section.

In the end, the game was decent, though there were some hot tempers between both sides, despite the cool temperatures. I really love sportsmanship in games, and despite some of the hot tempers, I appreciate it when a team kicks a ball out for an injured player (the St Kitts goalie), and when the ball comes back into play, they throw it back to them (Canadian defense throw in.)

St. Kitts fans in the crowd.

St. Kitts fans next to us

Canadian fans!

GOALLLLLLL!

Scorerboard

In the end, Canada won 4-0, and they'll be in Cuba for their next game, June 8, 2012. Their next home game will be on Canadian grass against Honduras, though they won't have the Canadian winter to their advantage for their June 12, 2012 game.

Go Canada Go! We hope to see you play in Brazil, World Cup 2014!

Also, in the future there will be changes to this blog, starting with amalgamating it and Quirky Reading Room. Eventually, this blog will move to Wordpress, likely in the new year.

Finally, does anyone want a review of the vendors from our wedding?

Review: The Sound of Writing - Readings at the eBar

2011-08-29T23:00:00.002-04:00

Last Wednesday (the 24th of August) I made it out of Toronto and to Guelph just before the Tornado watches arrived to see my friend Jo read her work along with 2 other ladies for The Sound of Writing: Readings at the eBar. I've never been to a reading of people's works before, only a CBC radio interview with Margaret Atwood (that was amazing) so I wasn't sure what to expect. Each of the ladies read from their published works. The genres ranged quite a bit, but all three impressed me with their ability to share their works to our (somewhat) small audience.

Jo, editor at The Glass Coin, read from her story, "The Glass Slipper", a reinterpretation of the Cinderella story from a maiden's perspective, published in The Mystic Signals 4 Anthology, as a series of short fantasy stories. To my knowledge it was her first reading, and she did a great job. I may be a touch biased though, she did originally write the story to make me laugh, however I feel justified in my bias since it made the rest of the audience chuckle as well. I loved the subtle societal commentary running throughout her story, which could also apply to our TMZ obsessed time. She also had stylish shoes; very important in a story about a glass slipper.

Next up was Gemma Files. She read excerpts from volumes 1 & 2 of her Hexslinger Series, published by ChiZine Publications. While I'm not particularly into the Gay Paranormal Romance genre, Gemma had an excellent written style, and a very practiced voice. Her characters were well researched and I enjoyed her reading very much specifically because of her style.

Last but not least, was Sephera Giron. I must apologize for the lack of photograph, but in my frequent attempts to check the Tornado warnings I used up my phone's battery by the time she took the stage. A romance novelist with a lenghty publishing history, Sephera read most of her horror story "Release" from Asylum 1: The Psycho Ward, also published by ChiZine. Her voice was strong and clear, and played on the mental acuity of the protagonist as she suffered through the voices in her head. The story was so strong, and the character so vivid, I felt relieved when she stopped before the end, as I could see it coming. The cascades of lightening behind her made the story much more ominous.

Over all I enjoyed the readings. They are a regular occurrence for The Sound of Writing, so if you're interested in more, follow their Facebook page for future events. Congratulations ladies, you did a fantastic job!

Pampering: Elmwood Spa

2011-08-15T13:04:00.001-04:00

On Saturday a couple of girlfriends and I went to the Elmwood Spa for some pampering. My friend had a mani/pedi combo the last time she was there for her wedding and said it was the best one she'd ever had! I got my very first pedicure, (the Elmline Essential Pedicure) and my pedicurist Lynd was very professional and friendly (and said my feet were in good condition). I was a bit ticklish when my feet were being pumiced.

Next time I would wear better sandals though. I was going out and walking around for a while after the pedicure, so I wanted to wear something comfortable while showing off my toes. They tried putting them on before the polish, but my Birkenstock strap just overlapped the nail. While it was a bit expensive for my current budget, I may go back there for a treat every now and then. Maybe next time I'll try one of their many other services, like a hot stone massage or the waters. Thanks for the afternoon treat Ladies!

Harbourfront Centre - Free Movies

2011-07-16T12:00:00.000-04:00

Tuesday night, in honour of a friend's birthday, my fiance and I were invited to his place for snacks, drinks and cake, followed by a free outdoor movie experience at the Harbourfront Centre's WestJet stage.

I haven't visited Toronto's Harbourfront (Canadian spelling of course) since I was a child, and have very fond memories of our school field trips there.

Movies on the covered stage are an annual event, and this year's theme (for all my architecture friends especially) is City Flicks: Six in the City. Each movie profiles the city in which is was filmed.

On Tuesday we watched the 2nd movie in this year's series, Woody Allen's Annie Hall. I've never seen the movie before. It was such a great view of New York, especially the apartments, though the skyline is much different today. According to the introduction, most of it was redone after the first cut. I wish we'd known Scott Pilgrim vs. the World played last week (featuring Toronto), because I've been dying to see the movie. If you're interested in seeing the other movies playing over the next 4 Tuesdays, you can see Paris, Je t'Aime next week, Amal, the week after, Lost in Translation on August 2nd, and the Audience Choice on August 9th. You can vote for the Audience Choice: Cairo Time, This Movie is Broken, or the Tourist, on the City Flicks website.

I'm making this my interim replacement for Vancouver's Empire Theatre's Fan Favorites. I loved watching older movies on the big screen. The movie was really fun. Its a great group of people, and a good way to spend the evening. Its not an event for children. The movies have adult themes, content and language, and I know alcohol is consumed. The event starts at 9pm, with a speaker giving the history of the movie and thanking sponsors and attendees. We got there around 9:15 with people still streaming in, just as the sun was setting. It was a beautiful back drop. The sound for the movie was a little off, the actor's 'S's' were harsh, like when the sound is just too loud. My only other complaint was the occasional boat passing by playing music. All in all, I think its a very fun event, and I hope to make it to a few more shows. So get to the site, and vote on which movie you'd like to see.

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On another note, I have a professional website that I developed through Wordpress, and I'm debating switching this one over to the same platform. If anyone is actually reading this blog, would that pose a major problem for you?

Hamilton Warplane Heritage Museum presents the Hamilton Air Show

2011-06-22T09:41:00.000-04:00

My fiance received free passes to the Hamilton Air Show so we left Toronto at 9:30 and arrived shortly before 11 am at the Hamilton International Airport. The weather was perfect, although I needed to ensure I had lots of water and sunscreen for the day. The last time I went to an Air Show was at CFB Trenton in the early 1990's, when they displayed a Stealth Bomber, surrounded by US Military with guns across their chests.

Sponsored by the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum (CWHM), the air show featured the Mynarski Memorial Lancaster. Dedicated to Pilot Officer Andrew Charles Mynarski, he was awarded a posthumous Victoria Cross for trying to save the rear gunner of the Lancaster even while his clothes were on fire. Mynarski did not survive to tell the tale, but the gunner did.

This is the first time in 10 years the Hamilton Air Show has flown for audiences, the last being in 2001. The post-9/11 security measures made it too difficult to put on. For the first time this year the CWHM hosted the event and opened its doors to those with admission to the show for the event. The heritage museum is in the process of rebuilding several planes from the World Wars, like the Lysander and the Boly. Many other restored aircraft from Canada and the US were there as well, including a restored Memphis Belle, made famous in the 1990 movie.

The planes were set up outside the museum hangar in 2 lines, which made it easy to weave up and down the runway or back and forth between them. Unfortunately, we had to go back to the hangar to catch the buses from their to the main strip to see them fly, because the airport was still active, and Westjet flights were arriving and taking off. By the time we got back to the line ups at noon, they were a lengthy wait. Guests had colour-coded wrist-bands, those who were attending the corporate sponsors as VIP attendees were supposed to have their own lineups with white buses, but many of the other guests had arrived in each line, and didn't take kindly to people cutting, VIP or not. Part of the problem was the lack of volunteers, the other was their lack of communication: nobody carried around walkie-talkies or cell phones to communicate with decision makers. Once we were at the main strip for the airshow, we went to our sponsor's tent, where the food and drinks were perfect for the day. Buses dropped people off at the wrong places, but the coordinators were learning as they went. The announcers apologized for the chaos, and promised to fix it for Sunday.

The air show itself was amazing; lots of acrobatics, a parachute opening ceremony with Canadian and American national anthems, formation flights, a simulated dogfight with a Red Baron replica, and even a plane flying upside down to cut a ribbon with his

propellers. On the way back we stopped by the other planes on display, such as a UN cargo plane, a Sabre (I found out later that my uncle flew one), and several helicopters. After our fill of planes 7 hours later, they allowed us to walk back to the hangar, which took all of 5 minutes.

My suggestions for next year's 40th anniversary show:

More volunteers with communication devices on more of them.

Allow the majority of people to walk over to the airstrip if possible. It shouldn't be difficult to set up a fenced in path that ensures visitors aren't wandering around the airfield. The buses should be saved for the elderly, the disabled, and families with small children.

Ensure the First Aid Station remains open throughout the entire event, and place it in a more central location. I overheard complaints about it.

Over all, I had a wonderful time, and took too many pictures. This is the kind of event where a quality dSLR camera comes in handy, and I had some camera envy despite my small but effective PowerShot camera. If you want to see some additional photos, check out my Flickr Folder here.

Finally, I sunburn easily, so I was wearing my large wide-brim hat. I'm sorry to any other photographers if it got in your way.

My Favorite Places in Vancouver

2011-06-20T17:38:00.000-04:00

I may have moved to Toronto, Ontario, but I've been thinking about my Vancouver. As I watched the riot destruction of the city I called home for almost 4 years, the scenes made me cry because my all the familiar buildings on my walk to work were destroyed. I'm so happy people came to help clean up the city.

So I've decided to list my favorite places in Vancouver, in no particular order or category.

Yoga Studio: Yyoga Flow Wellness. Burrard & Smithe.

I wanted to try Yyoga in January, but I was sick for 3 months, and didn't want to go into a hot yoga environment and spread my germs so I waited until I was healthy enough, in March. I was apprehensive at first. When I joined the classes were unbelievably busy due to their 30 day challenge, but I was immediately impressed. I tried the $30 2-week trial. During my first pilates class the instructor made us all yell out that we were beautiful. I debated continuing on a month-to-month membership, because I didn't have enough time left in Vancouver to sign up for a 3 month one. I needed to rent my mat and mat towel (my hands sweat without the hot yoga) so it was pricier than I could afford for longer than 2 months, but obviously, the longer the term the better the monthly rates you get. In the end, it was the instructors that kept me going. I loved them. All unique, I found some explained the movements better than others, and many were also physiotherapists. All of them know the body well, and they pushed me just enough so that I really benefitted from it without hurting myself. Even in large classes, they moved to the back of the room to make corrections. I really recommend Yyoga, check them out. They have multiple locations across the city.

Chocolate: Mink. Hornby @ Hastings.

My friends told me about Mink after they got drunk on their drinking chocolate during a break from work one day, so another friend and I went to go try it out. That day I ordered a hot chocolate, truffles, and tried a chocolate bar later: Mermaid's Choice. The truffles were amazing, and the hot chocolate was divine. I'm more of a salty than sweet addict, so I fell in love with the chocolate bar I ate. Since that day I've been back frequently. I kept a stash of them at my desk, the 30 piece dark chocolate was my preferred choice, and had 1 piece every day after lunch. I even shared with my coworkers, and they hung around my desk waiting for me if they knew I was making a trip to the store. Each time I visited, the guy at the chocolate bars would tell me his favorite, every day it was different. I can highly recommend the Mermain's Choice, the Maidens, Taj Masala (like gingerbread in meltaway chocolate form), and of course the Mink Original. Stop by and get a chocolate bar, and just see how long it lasts.

Hair Dresser: Rain Boutique and Salon. W 2nd Ave near Fir.

I tried a few local hair salons when I first moved to Vancouver, but the stylists kept quitting, and I was never quite satisfied with the cut. My hair is thick and wavy, and they were terrified of really tackling the bulk. My friend Jen (personal stylist extraordinaire) gave me Sam's name from Rain Boutique and Salon, so I decided to give her a try. I never looked back, and I am contemplating booking her when I'm back in September for a wedding just to have her work on my hair again. She got sent for training in New York and I was her first client when she came back. I've never seen anyone so excited to razor my hair. If I could afford to fly her out for my wedding in October I would! Rain has a referral program, so if you bring in a client for a stylist, they give both you and your referral a discount. Try them out, and ask for Sam. She liberated my hair!

Lunch Place: Finch's Tea & Coffee House. Homer & Pender.

Finch's Tea & Coffee House is a wonderful place. The furniture is eclectic and sits on raised platforms at the windows; on the inside are large tables where your party of 2 may end up sitting beside other customers at a table for 6. The staff are friendly and work hard, everything is made right when you order it. If you don't want to wait for your lunch, I highly recommend ordering it in advance. Everything is organic or free-range, and the ingredients are very fresh. My favorite sandwich is the prosciutto, and I nearly always get a chocolate cookie too because they're satisfying. The soups and salads are larger than you think, and come with a fresh baguette. If you haven't tried it, you really should.

Bakery: Butter. Dunbar @ W 26th.

On my first anniversary in Vancouver my friend brought handmade flavored marshmallows from Butter to the beach to celebrate. Since then, I've been back multiple times, using the marshmallows as stocking stuffers or gifts, or just to enjoy it myself. I can say I'm glad it isn't located downtown, or I would have gained weight Yyoga couldn't help me get off. At christmas I got some cinnamon ones, and they are my favorite, despite the strawberry, raspberry and mint flavored ones. The last time I was there, I watched several people come in and order their homemade oreos: chocolate cookies with their own filling in between. With one left, I decided to give it a try, and I didn't regret it. In fact, if I hadn't gone out to Bard on the Beach that night, the massive oreo would have been consumed in one sitting, instead of enjoyed over a few. The best name for a bakery, Butter is very yummy. Go, if you can.

I hope you enjoyed this. If I think of other places I miss, I'll let you know.

What are your favorite Vancouver Places?

As You Like It: Bard on the Beach

2011-06-03T23:50:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was only the first time in all my three and a half years in Vancouver that I finally took in Bard on the Beach. I couldn't decide what to see from their selections before heading back to Ontario in ten days, so I decided on a comedy: As You Like It.

We were informed at the beginning that this was still a rehearsal of sorts; the director, art, and costume might still tweak the production over the next week. This made me a bit nervous, as I was hoping for the proper presentation, however, I wasn't disappointed.

I didn't know very much of As You Like It going into the play, but was pleasantly surprised to find out many of Shakespeare's famous monologues come from that it, including man's seven ages.

The tent is new this year, and though I didn't bring a blanket, I was dressed for the cool weather. The seating was very comfortable, and I barely looked at the city beyond because of the superb acting.

All in all, I found the play amazing. It now tops my list of the comedies, in no small part due the acting. Rosalind (Lois Anderson) was tremendous. She played the part of a woman playing a man amazingly, flipping from one state to another seamlessly. Celia (Louisa Jojic), Rosalind's cousin, held her own next to such a strong actress. Todd Thompson played Orlando as a perfect fool in love, and his timing suited his love interest Rosalind. The Fool Touchstone (Ryan Beil), though a little quick in some of his speeches, was hysterical, and I even used his facial expressions (superb) as a distraction from the rabbit scene. (Honestly, who shepherds rabbits?) Ryan's "ew gross" moments reflected exactly what the audience felt. I think Shakespeare would have been proud. Kayvon Khoshkam was a delightfully pathetic Silvius, and John Murphy plays a very melancholy Jacques.

The settings were simple but very effective, especially the trees. The designer of the rabbit props was a genius, if a touch graphic. I'm very glad they included several songs throughout the play, the voices and harmonies were well done. While the dancing was a little off by some of the actors, the fight scene made several of us gasp. While I know this play is a comedy, the actors were so good they made me and my guest cry at the scene before intermission.

All in all, a wonderful performance. I highly recommend As You Like It to everyone! If I had more time I'd see the rest of the plays. You can purchase tickets online here.

We Want The Cup!!

2011-06-02T00:18:00.000-04:00

The Canucks won Game 1 of the finals tonight just as we were walking by Earl's and the entire bar erupted; waving their shirts and screaming. Their enthusiasm was echoed all over the city tonight - maybe you heard it? Yeah - that was because of a hockey game. Don't worry you're quite safe, unless you're a Bruins fan.

Go Canucks! We want the cup!

The Last 6 Weeks

2011-04-11T13:49:00.001-04:00

I've gone from doing what feels like nothing in this city to doing as much as I possibly can. I got word that I've passed my last NCARB ARE exam so I now have some time to document all the things I've been up to.

1. Three Days Grace Concert, March 20th, 2011.

So AMAZING! I've loved them for such a long time, and their music has such a profound impact on people that I was so excited to see them. The venue is awesome, I absolutely love the Commodore Ballroom as a concert hall. (It would also hold some pretty swank weddings there too.) The opening band wasn't bad: Loved their cover of Duran Duran's Come Undone. It was interesting to watch them take shots on the stage as they played, while Three Days Grace drank water and offered it to the rest of the audience. I imagine that its difficult for a recovering addict to play in venues where people are getting drunk and high on pot. Despite that, they played amazingly, and I got so emotional in "Never too Late" that I started to cry. No mascara messes though. Definitely a band I plan on seeing again.

2. Royal Winnipeg Ballet Presents Wonderland, March 27, 2011.

My visiting friend absolutely loves Alice and Wonderland and needs to see its various enactments so I decided we should see the Royal Winnipeg Ballet's presentation of Wonderland, a multimedia presentation. While some of it was a bit strange and over the top, like the Queen of Hearts, some of the ballets were incredibly done. The caterpillar was so creative, and the Gryphon and the Tortoise very moving. I wished they had done a bit more with the set though. The first shot of Alice in the forest takes your breath away, but they don't achieve that feeling throughout the rest of the ballet. I wish more had been done with the Madd Hatter, March Hare and the Cheshire Cat, however, I loved Alice and the White Rabbit. Over all, I think they did a good job with the performance, and I'm impressed by the artists from Winnipeg (dancers, symphony, tech.). You deserve a pat on the back for attempting the scope of this project, it was a whole lot of fun.

3. Guess Dermitogolica FITE Fundraiser, April 6, 2011

The Guess store on Robson partnered with Dermalogica to support FITE (Financial Independence Through Entrepreneurship) a micro-loan company which supports third world businesses as a way of getting out of poverty. Your Everyday Stylist posted the event on her facebook page, and I decided since I needed a new pair of jeans that I could also help raise money for FITE. It was a super fun shopping experience with fabulous appetizers, drinks, photographers, and very helpful staff who got me into just the right pair of jeans. The only down side to the evening was that my friend Jen (of Your Everyday Stylist) were oh so fabulously dressed and the photo setup with the Guess back drop never did email us our picture together. Too bad! I did get some fun swag though.

4. Vancouver Canucks Home Game, April 7, 2011

My cousin scored some tickets to Thursday's last home game and invited me to go out with him and his sister. We had all been working super hard the last few weeks so it was good to get out and yell at some hockey players for a change. To top it off, Thursday was also the presentation of the President's Trophy to the team (League first place!) along with a few others. It was a fairly laid back game against the Wild, they won 5-0, and I was proud of the Vancouver Boys because they didn't get into any stupid fights that could injure them or pull them out of the playoffs. Good luck boys! Don't ever give up in the playoffs!

5. The George Stroumboulopoulos Show Taping, April 10, 2011

I tried for tickets to the George Stroumboulopolous tapings for the April 11 & 12 shows here in Vancouver, but alas, I didn't get any. However, I was put on the list for people to see the concert taping part of the shows on April 10th. We got to see K-os and Hannah Georgas perform. I love K-Os, who performed his it Sunday Morning and a new song; he definitely didn't let us down as a perfromer. He seems incredibly humble. I hadn't heard Hannah Georgas, only some of the buzz around her as she was nominated for a Juno award. She has quite the amazing voice, whether she's singing or not, and I am definitely debating buying her album now. George was his usual talkative self, engaging the crowd before the show while we waited in line, and between takes, answering questions and suggesting how to clap. My friend and I narrowly avoided the boom swing radius, so we didn't feel the need to duck like the rows in front of us. If you are in the Toronto area, I highly recommend taking in a taping, its amazing what goes on back stage. Tune into the show, and then onto George's website to hear the performances.

So you can see I've definitely been living more socially since my exams have stopped taking over my life. I'm looking forward to more fun in this city, especially once the weather improves.

Apologies

2011-03-07T12:32:00.000-05:00

Life has been in turmoil for the past little while, and my reasons for lack of posting had to do primarily with studying for my NCARB ARE exams to get my licence with the AIBC. I have one more (out of 7) to do - provided I passed my structures last week.

Hopefully some new posts will come soon, maybe even with some guest bloggers.

Guest Editorial: The Glass Coin

2010-07-15T15:53:00.000-04:00

Today's and exciting day! I have my first editorial printed in The Glass Coin and its my first published piece by someone else.

If you are curious to see what I've written for their Fame & Fortune Issue, please have a read.

Also, I took the picture of the cover as well. If you're interested in perusing previous covers for the Glass Coin, please check out their flickr account.

Be Vortex Aware

2010-07-13T21:37:00.000-04:00

I don't normally walk down Granville on my way home but tonight I'm glad I did. As I walked down the street I saw police cars everywhere, and smoke billowing up closer to Smithe St near where the girls from Jump Rope for Heart had been two Saturdays ago.

I walked closer, somehow unafraid. It was the yellow car on the back of a tow-truck, severed in half that made me question the scene first. I thought accident at first, but then it looked too clean.

No license plates, I'm guessing the car was for filming. Sure enough further ahead, this was the scene.

I'm guessing downtown Vancouver outside of the Orpheum was supposed to be New York City.

So if you're in New York, or Vancouver, Be Vortex Aware: Fringe Events Can Happen Anywhere.

Yes, Fringe was back in town filming, and no I did not see Joshua Jackson. But that's Anna Torv's (Olivia's) hair in the filming shot.

The Flying Troutmans

2010-07-05T20:00:00.000-04:00

Thebes was loading the stuff into the van and Logan was picking and rolling around the parking lot with his basketball, periodically banging it off stuff like the van and the window at the front desk. The woman inside banged back and then came and told us to clear on outta there. There was a large black oil slick under the van.

Shotgun, said Thebes.

Already dibsed it, said Logan.

I hate you, said Thebes.

We were back on the road.

Miriam Toews: The Flying Troutmans (86)

My friend JM Prescott recommended this book to me knowing that aside some fun books that I use for distraction and escape I do also like to read more literary work with strong characters and wonderful plot. Miriam Toews' book The Flying Troutmans made me a little apprehensive with its glowing reviews from The Globe and Mail and its Rogers Writers' Trust Fiction Prize stamp on the cover. A brief thumb through and I admit I felt an immediate dislike and distrust for her formatting, so I put it on the shelf for a few months. It amazes me that a lack of quotation marks and distinguishing between characters speaking in paragraphs actually made me not want to read it, but that's the case. Its also about a family struggling to deal with one member's mental health issues, and having done an architectural thesis on Supportive Housing for Mental Health, I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with that topic again. The reason I picked up the book to read again was because I have to return it to JM when I see her in two weeks on my vacation.

I was pleasantly surprised by the book. Mental health and its affects on family members is a difficult topic to deal with, and often dealt with poorly. Often there is great tragedy involved, good examples being Wally Lamb's I Know This Much is True and Ken Kesey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Both novels are fantastic with wonderful characters, but none of them seem to break the tension of a mental health breakdown with realistic laughable dialogue the way Miriam Toews does. She weaves stories of the past within the journey the kids and their aunt make to find their father, and all the reactions are heartfelt and real. I believed the characters completely, even Thebes' oddness was perfectly defined.

The only downside I felt in reading The Flying Troutmans, was that the ending felt far too quick. Without giving away anything, the decision to travel to find Thebes and Logan's Father took longer than the end of the journey itself. While reactions to mental health issues were dead on, reactions to discovering information about their father seemed unrealistic and quick. The ending felt abrupt and unresolved, though I suspect the point of the story was the journey itself.

I recommend the book just for the language and style. It breaks patterns in the best way, and it freed me of my preconceived notions on what writing looks like. If you're dealing with a family member or friend with mental health, it deals with it as a crisis in a very realistic way. Pick up the book, its a worthwhile read, and deserving of its acclaim.

Vancouver Fitness Day

2010-07-04T01:06:00.000-04:00

Yesterday as I waited to meet up with my friend Sylvie for lunch I watched some demonstrations for Fitness Day on Granville near Robson. My favorite was the Skippers from Jump Rope for Heart from the Heart and Stroke Foundation who put on a spectacular demonstration, and even got the audience participating and learning how to do some double dutch (see video below). If I wasn't going to go for lunch, I would have jumped in to see if I still had what it takes since winning the Jump Rope for Heart school competition back in grade 3. The skippers were pretty amazing, it was almost like a combination of break dancing at some points. There's no way I could do some of the tricks they were able to do, but if I'd seen it as a little girl I might have been inspired to try. It really makes me want to pick up a skipping rope again, much like the activities I witnessed a little more than a month ago did. I would be fun, and apparently good for my heart.

Enjoy the videos.

Gallagher Girls: Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover

2010-07-03T21:06:00.000-04:00

When Cammie "the Chameleon" Morgan visits her roommate Macey in Boston, she thinks she's in for an exciting end to her summer break. After all, she's there to watch Macey's father accept a nomination for vice president of the United States. But when you go to the world's best school (for spies), "exciting" and "deadly" are never far apart. Cammie and Macey soon find themselves trapped in a kidnapper's dangerous plot, with only their espionage skills to save them.

Ally Carter: Don't Judge a Girl By Her Cover (Synopsis) - From her website.

This is the third book in the Gallagher Girl series created by Ally Carter, and it was such a treat to read. A perfect continuation of the two previous books in the series ITYILYBTIHTKY and Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy it brought new intrigue and while developing the central characters of Cammie, Macey, Bex and Liz. I really enjoyed how the story moved forward, and with the release this week of Only the Good Spy Young, I suspect I'll be reading the next one soon, well at least as soon as I can get it from the library.

I'm really enjoying this series. It covers some really difficult topics, like losing parents and friends, while Ms Carter brings life, light, and humor to realistic characters placed in unrealistic situations. I would have loved having girls like these as friends in my life, not just for their personalities but for their character qualities: many of my friends have similar traits, and while they wouldn't dress me up to hide my identity, they always have my back. After finishing the third book, I'm more convinced than ever that instead of a movie, the Gallagher Girl series should be made into a television series. So, Nickelodeon or Disney, get on the phone with her agent.

Also, Ms Carter, if you or your agents read this, please pop by Vancouver! I would love to meet you! This would have been the best book series I ever could've read as a young girl.

Crazy Demolition

2010-06-23T20:10:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry if the video is out of whack with my site, I'm trying the embed code for the first time. This happened right outside my apartment building almost 2 weeks ago; I'm so glad I wasn't walking by like I usually do twice a week. 21 luxury residences are going into this site, so they're demolishing the existing building to make way for the Rolls Royce driver included condominiums called Artemisia. These condos are totally out of scale for the city, and too rich for the area they are located in. Apparently, while they may be luxurious, they didn't pay much in the way of safety for the demolition. My building manager told me they didn't even have the proper demolition permits. I'm just glad no one was hurt. CBC has some coverage of it if you'd like to see comments. They're pretty interesting from the people who were there. To make matters worse, they didn't do it just once and learn from their lesson, it happened twice.

Its the kind of thing that makes me so mad. People need to be properly trained in this industry, structural engineers need to be involved in demolition. And safety needs to be a number 1 priority.

PS. Thanks to Gforce for showing me this idiocy.

JM Prescott's I Dare You: Painting Challenge

2010-06-18T11:00:00.000-04:00

JM Prescott's Untitled Rwanda Painting

From JM Prescott's Website:

Imagine this painting is the cover of your flash or poem. I promise there is no right answer. Tell me this woman's story in 400-600 words.

I Dare You!

I believe I got an honorable mention.

My response was both inspired by JM Prescott's painting and by the book I'm currently reading entitled "Half the Sky," by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl Wudunn, a book about women as second class citizens around the world. I'm not finished, but I highly recommend the book for anyone interested in women's rights.

The poem is entitled "brother" and it is based on the above painting "untitled Rwanda painting."

brother

brother, you thought if you sent me daily

on a two hour walk

to get our portion of food

that i would forget about my thirst.

you believed i was weaker

so i should walk the distance

and back,

prepare the meal

and serve it to you first.

you believed my mind useless,

education wasted on me,

so you went to school

while i starved for knowledge.

you wasted what was given to you

and while you copied your friends answers

by candlelight, i mended their outfits

sewing skillfully in payment

for your laziness.

but little do you know brother,

that on my long walks for grain

she spotted me in line

and asked me what i dreamed,

what i wanted.

to learn, to grow

to bring change to my little village,

to be master of my own life

not cast out as soon as you trade me

to become someone's wife.

brother, you thought if you sent me daily

on a 2 hour walk

to get our portion of food

that i would forget about my thirst.

instead, i stay a little longer,

for an extra hour daily i am taught to read

in exchange for the little handbags i make

with the extra light from your candles.

soon i will get a stand in the market,

selling my handbags to make my own life,

one that will not be traded

to someone for your convenience.

i will continue to grow

and satisfy my thirst.

one day with her help,

i will create a place where

a girl's thirst will never be ignored.

Fans, Fanatics and Beyond

2010-06-16T16:06:00.000-04:00

World Cup 2010 fever has begun in Africa and everyone's flag colours are everywhere. My friends are posting their Hyundai sponsored Jerseys of their teams choice on their facebook pages, and it reminds me of that other giant sporting event from this year, the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

I bought the red mittens, and a team Canada hockey jersey in support of my country when I was here. If you watched tv or walked around for five minutes anywhere remotely close to the downtown Vancouver area, you could see Canadian Pride everywhere. There were Canadian flags draped across shoulders, red mittens everywhere, red and white spandex wearers (I wish I hadn't seen those) and hockey jerseys of both home and away. In the midst of all the Canadiana, there were flashes of other colours: the dark navy from some US supporters who drove up from Seattle and beyond, the blue white and red of the russians (especially since we were selling their stuff for the next winter olympics in Sochi) and the bright orange of the dutch. I think they were the craziest of all. It wasn't just an orange piece of clothing, they were covered in orange head to toe, including orange spandex and orange clown wigs, and boy were they easy to spot.

The hockey fans were rowdier at the Olympics than they normally are as well. I think this is because so many fans from around the world brought their cowbells, their horns, everything just to make some noise for their team. They were missing that one main instrument from the World Cup 2010, the Vuvuzela. At the Germany-Finland hockey game, one guy sitting in front of us mentioned how proud he was that he swiped a metal tea kettle from a restaurant (he was progressively getting more drunk, two fisting it at every break) and banging the tea kettle as loud as he could. It was effective. It gave me the biggest migraine ever.

But of course these fans are nothing compared to soccer fans around the world. They have fake World Cups, they paint their faces, wear umpteen million pins and articles of clothing that support their team, and seem to be willing to fly wherever just to watch them play. Look at Brazil, Holland, Italian, Portugese fans and you'll see it. Listen to amy game and you'll hear the vuvuzela which sounds like a chain saw or swarm of bees. Forget the metal teapot - those will give you a headache that will take days to recover from.

At the olympics I bought some Canadian Paraphenalia. I've been contemplating getting a Germany Soccer jersey because that's my World Cup team of choice. But I've been wondering why I should. I've always been a proud Canadian, my home and native land, so why would I buy a Germany soccer jersey just to pull out every four years for a soccer event? It has nothing to do with my love of soccer and how frequently I watch. (I played, refereed and love the sport completely.) I am definitely a fan , I follow and will route for the team. I guess that makes me a fan.

So what then makes the difference between a fan, and a fanatic - the religious zeal people show for their home team? Is a fan the person just watching the game, wearing the team jersey, or dressing up in head to toe team colours? Players can tell the support they have from the crowd, and home team advantage definitely helps. In a see of red and white those orange shirts were dead easy to spot. But, can the players tell the difference in the see of faces when the bright lights are on them that one fan is not only wearing the jersey and colours, but has their face painted, their wig on, their fake world cup trophy or anything else? I know from playing the sport that beyond the front bench in a stadium its difficult to see, especially with the bright lights on you. Everyone else is sort of in the dark dull roar of the background. Also, a player is supposed to be focusing on the game, not the crazy fans in the background.

So why does the fan dress up if the player can't see him? For herself? For the television cameras or the big screen? That I can believe. The more outrageously you dress and behave (think of the North Korean player today who had the camera on him the entire anthem because he was so emotionally overwhelmed) the more your face will grace the tv cameras and big screen shots. But, is it about your team support? Or is it about you? Mr. Teapot supported neither Germany nor Finland at the Olympic hockey game, electing to wear a Team Canada Sydney Crosby jersey instead. As the night wore on, his cheers for Germany (Deutchland! Clap Clap! repeat) degenerated to "Tea-pot!" (clap, clap repeat) as his alcohold intake increased. He cared more about the fact that he was able to make more noise from his stolen metal teapot than anybody else in the arena. In other words, the experience became about him, and not about supporting a particular team at a particular sporting event. And is that the case with more overtly obsessive fans, the fanatics? I'm not sure. Is the fan the person without the jersey yelling support, the person with the jersey colours, the person waving the flag or the person in head to toe orange? Perhaps its too difficult to tell until you have someone yelling about a teapot or vuvuzela instead of about the game in front of them. How can you tell?

Well, now you know my team of choice, seconded only by South Africa much to the dismay of my British friends. Which World Cup Team do you support?

On Writing / Stand By Me: Stephen King

2010-06-10T16:17:00.000-04:00

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that."

Stephen King, On Writing

I finished reading Stephen King's book On Writing a while ago and have been letting it percolate in my mind while I studied for my last NCARB ARE exam. (That's why I don't finish books and post them on here nearly as often as I'd like to.) Part autobiographical memoir, part how-to, part telepathy, Stephen's book is an inspiring read for many a would-be writer such as myself. I appreciate his approach to writing: unearthing a hidden treasure. I find when I'm inspired by stories, I start out with a scene, like a movie or a dream playing in my mind. Sometimes I just hear the words. Mr King's unearthing process seams like an approach I'd like to try, and believe me, I'll be rereading the book to get more out of it now that I have some breathing room to do so. I appreciate his honesty because his book never implies more than he says: this book will never make you a great writer, but it will make a good writer out of a decent writer.

I have two favorite sections to this book. The first is his description of writing as telepathy. Honestly you should read it just for that. Its the most poetic way I've ever heard any form of art described. If you don't think of Stephen King as the poetic type, just do a google search on his quotes - they're very eloquent. (My personal favorite comes from Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption: "Get busy living, or get busy dying.") My other favorite part of the book is his way of explaining the old idea write what you know. He writes horror, its his favorite genre, and has been since he was a child. That doesn't mean his life is horror, he incorporates elements of his life into a setting that becomes horrific. At one point, he even mentions if you're a plumber who loves sci-fi, write about a sci-fi plumber. This way the character can seem relatable to the reader, even if the situation is odd.

At the end of May, while I was reading On Writing, Vancouver's Empire Theatre presented Stand By Me as their Fan Favourite selection that month. Stand by Me is based on his short story The Body, which can be found in his novella collection Different Seasons. (It also contains Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption which became the movie The Shawshank Redemption.) I heard that The Body was somewhat autobiographical for Stephen King, and when paralleled with the autobiographical section of On Writing I could start to see some similarities. Gordie LaChance's relationship with his brother seems to have been inspired by Stephen's relationship with his brother. The style of Gordie's story telling (I'm thinking about Lardo here) isn't a far cry from the way Stephen speaks about his own childhood: he had a baby sitter who sat on his face and farted.

His book On Writing actually re-inspired me both to read and write. There was a time when I devoured books. I would read books the way people eat chocolate: I can't just read one chapter. On Writing reminded me why. He got me reading more frequently (despite my exam studying) and writing more, little bits at a time. So, Mr. King, thanks for the telepathic inspiration, perhaps one day I'll message you back.

The Hour Vancouver Taping: Behind the Scenes

2010-05-20T15:40:00.000-04:00

Last night my friend and I went to go see a taping of CBC's The Hour in Vancouver. My friend won the tickets, but little did we know how much she had won. The Hour is taping in Vancouver this week. The host George Stroumboulopoulos has been twittering about everything he's been doing here, including going for a Japadog.

We were in line for quite a while before getting into the building, but the crew of the hour set the laid-back tone off right away by offering everyone standing in line Rice Works chips (turns out the sweet chili ones are really good) to tide us over. When the doors opened and we began inching our way into the building, George himself popped out to meet all his guests. Shaking hands and posing for pictures, George was relaxed and engaging, and I began to understand why his show did so well.

After the long line-ups to get inside (coat-check, stairs to the deep basement where the show would be filmed, line ups to get placed for seats, etc), my friend and I finally took our seats towards the back and right the room facing the stage. Sitting at the aisle we both had nice clear sight lines to see host and guest clearly. I wasn't really all that surprised at the line-ups and lengthy time to get in, I'd seen Margaret Atwood speak about her book Payback in that venue, and I'd seen a taping of the Rick Mercer Report in Toronto. The drills were explained to us, about clapping and cheering and being enthusiastic, then we found out we were in for a treat: we were going to be the audience for two shows that night. The first would be a live taping that would air in the maritimes with a few second delay. (George got nervous about not swearing cause they usually edit him out when he does.) And then Thursdays taping. Then George came, answered some questions, explained what he would do and told us the most important thing for us to do was not to clap and cheer, but to laugh at his jokes.

The show started and our first guest was Betty Fox, Terry Fox's mom. If you were able to watch the show on tv or online, you'll know Betty Fox's interview was outstanding, and I almost cried when she spoke about still speaking to her son and how he still guides her and the family. What you probably didn't see, because they were doing her bio at the time, was the standing ovation she received as she entered the room. Although we were told in our rules not to suddenly stand up because the gib might hit us as it swung over, we risked beheading in order to do so.
The next guest was Neill Blomkamp, writer and co-director of District 9, and he managed not to give away any spoilers about his upcoming work. He also spoke about what it might be like in South Africa with the World Cup. They implimented a "Shoot to Kill" law last fall, a far cry from the type of Police efforts here in Vancouver during the Olympics.

For the post-live taping the first guest we met was Dr. Julio Montaner, HIV researcher and activist. He is heavily involved in working through government red tape, and I'll make a poor summary of his arguments, so watch the show when it airs on Thursday.

The second guest we met was Rick Hansen. He's a pretty amazing canadian legend. And I really liked his top perks and peeves of being in a wheelchair. Note to self, never use an accessible washroom stall again.

The final guest was Nancy Robertson of Corner Gas and Hiccups fame. You will hear her talk about how big the red chairs are, but she stands at less than 3/4 of George's stature, which is on the normal side. It was quite entertaining to watch them together.

I do believe though, that the best part of the night was what you don't see on tv. During commercial breaks and between sets/guests, George answers questions from the audience. Everything from "why do you sign on with 'I'm your boyfriend'?" to "how long does it take you to record your radio show on CBC radio 2?" (Because it confuses someone, which amuses him, and 10-15 hours.) George was so approachable and willing to answer all the questions, that its like he engages in a conversation with the audience. Which is why he does this I suppose, to help us engage in a conversation with someone interesting on the television, and to make us feel like we're sitting there with him. And to George, I say well done. If you can get tickets to his show, trust me, its well worth it.

PS. I would love to see him interview Alan Cross on the show, I think they could just talk for hours about music and life and it would be amazing to be able to listen in. Who do you think he should interview?

Rules of Prey

2010-05-16T19:14:00.000-04:00

The murderer was intelligent. He was a member of the bar. He derived rules based on professional examination of actual cases: Never kill anyone you know. Never have a motive. Never follow a discernible pattern. Never carry a weapon after it has been used. Beware of leaving physical evidence. There were more. He built them into a challenge. He was mad, of course . . .

John Sanford, Rules of Prey (from the book description on his website.)

I've been looking for a good thriller to read, and my best friend JM Prescott recommended the first book in a psychological thriller series by John Sanford, Rules of Prey. My overall impression is good. Rules of Prey sets a good pace for action, switching perspectives between the hero and the villain, and building up to an exciting ending. The only downside to the story was that I found the hero, Lucas Davenport, very difficult to relate to, which is an odd thing for someone like me. I like logic problems and psychology. The psychology of being in the villain's head was well done, not terribly graphic or gratuitous, just enough to convey the horror of what he was about to inflict. I think the problem for me was the way the "games" were developed in the story. As the reader, I knew there was a game afoot since that and the players are established in the first two chapters. What I found disconcerting was while you knew the rules the villain played by, there were no rules for Lucas, and when he created them, he broke them in the next chapter. Maybe this is what is supposed to make the character interesting: that a man who creates games for fun and makes the rules succinct and proper, breaks rules in the remainder of his life: personally and professionally. Perhaps the tagline "plays by his own rules" is appropriate for Davenport. Its not my favorite characteristic in a hero, but it does make for an entertaining and sometimes shocking read in a psychological thriller.

In some ways, even though this takes place in the 1980s, I found a lot of ties to a television series I've become a recent fan of, HBO's The Wire. The same themes are present in the Rules of Prey book and The Wire: politics, police, technology, and reporters. The heros even have that similar "plays by his own rules" trait, neither Lucas Davenport and Jimmy McNulty will stop to make the arrest, even going so far as to mess with the media. Even though Wired was a difficult series to get into, it was well worth it. Once I got past the style and language of the series, I couldn't stop. I've made it through one season, and will keep going.

Likewise I think I might consider reading the next in the series once my exams are finished and I get through the other books on my reading list. I suspect that its a series that will get better over time, now that there's no back story for the characters required.

Chiliwack Mennonite Choir

2010-05-16T18:28:00.000-04:00

As I was out running errands in between chores and studying I saw some dressed up Mennonites in a parking lot prepping for something. I wanted to stop and chat them up, since I saw a sign on the vehicle they arrived in that said "Chilliwack Mennonite Choir." I was curious to know when and where they'd be performing, but since I have a lot of studying to do I figured I'd be better off getting my errands done, I kept walking. Imagine my surprise when on my way back less than an hour later, I saw them perform outside the Vancouver Art Gallery. I took a short video clip of them. They sounded really lovely, I always forget that the church members always sing in 4-part harmony; its engrained right in their church hymns when they sing. It was such a treat and made me miss the gals and guys from my residence at the University of Waterloo, Conrad Grebel College. So this is for the Menno gals and gents I know. I'm thinking of you and miss you!

All in Together: Hulahoop Contests

2010-05-11T14:40:00.000-04:00

Its the kind of weather that has our office windows open, with the heat and air conditioning off. From below our office drifts up the occasional "Woo!" Screams of joy and fun in unison that occur every couple of minutes. Curious I ventured over to the window of my office, and witnessed in all its glory: the Hulahoop Contest.

There are a lot of ESL classes around our building; its like International Student Central as they come from all over the world to take English here for whatever reason. It seems today is a day for fun as they have collectively joined together in this almost summer weather for some hulahoop competition, followed by some three-legged racing. I wish I could join them, memories of elementary school recesses and contests of hulahooping and skipping: it makes me want to get to my nearest dollar store, pick up a rope and start hopping. I used to love skipping, and I even once won a prize for skipping the longest in my elementary school for the Heart and Stroke Foundation fundraiser Jump for the Heart. Any one in for a little double-dutch? Or "Teddy Bear Teddy Bear Turn Around?" Or maybe "All in Together?"

Hulahoop Contest

Dine Out Vancouver 2010: Boneta

2010-05-06T21:41:00.000-04:00

Went out with my cousins last week in Celebration of Dine-Out Vancouver 2010. We went to Boneta in Gastown where we had a really sumptuous $38 meal. Each restaurant has a fixed 3-part menu of $18, $28 or $38 that consists of a starter, a main course, and a dessert. The dinner was amazing! At Boneta, a French restaurant, I had:

Appetizer: Green Bean Salad, Hummus, Preserved Lemon, Harissa, Ricotta Salata, Fried Shallots

This was so light and delicious.

Main: Pan Seared Halibut, English Peas, Cherry Tomato, Basil, Israeli Couscous

This was wonderful, the Couscous was fantastic with the English peas and the lightly seared fish.

This is an alternate choice my cousins had, the Braised Pork Belly, Navy Beans, Swiss Chard, Carrot, Parsnip Puree, Radish.

Dessert: Chocolate Financier, Peanut, Warm Chocolate Soup, Vanilla Ice Cream (I didn't get a picture :-( )

If you are in town next year for Dine-Out Vancouver 2011, I highly recommend you try Boneta, or one of the many other restaurants participating in Vancouver.

Update: I did take pics of the yummy desserts after all, and here they are!

My Cousin's Apple Dessert

My Yummy Chocolate with Peanuts Dessert

Gallagher Girls: I'd Tell You I love You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You

2010-03-29T23:58:00.000-04:00

After all, imagine if you were a fifteen-year-old girl standing alone on a deserted street on a dark night, preparing for a clandestine meeting, when, all of a sudden you can't see anything because a pair of hands are covering your eyes. One second you're standing there, being grateful that you'd remembered to pack a candy bar, and then . . . POW . . everything goes black.

Well, that's what happened. But did I panic? No way. I did what I was trained to do-I grabbed the offending arm, shifted my weight, and used the force of my would-be attacker's momentum against him.

It was fast. Really fast. Scary, these-hands-are-lethal-weapons fast.

Ally Carter: I'd Tell You I love You, But Then I'd Have to Kill You, 2006. (ITYILYBTIHTKY)

My friend and I have been trading fun silly, girly books, and last week she lent me the first of Ally Carter's Gallagher Girl Series ITYILYBTIHTKY. When I found out it was part of a Young Adult Series, I cringed at the idea because I've been reluctant to read the many books that are out there as the ones I've seen seemed to feature over the top dramatic vampiric and demon themes. (This isn't necessarily bad, just not what i've been in the mood to read.)

Imagine my surprise to read a book that's not only fun, but is something I completely would have read as a younger girl. Nancy Drew meets The BabySitters Club meets Alias, this book puts the smartest girls from around the world together in a private school gearing them towards work with the CIA, FBI, MI6 or any other lettered agency. But what happens when Cammie the Chameleon Morgan meets a boy who actually sees her while she's on assignment? Well the girls assume he's the enemy. Hi-tech high-jinx ensues as four girls too smart for their own good try to pass as normal, while pursuing their Cove-Ops Mission.

The book is a wonderfully refreshing read, where the narrator (Cammie) is completely at odds with herself. She strives to be the professional she's training to become, all the while trying frantically to decode "boy"; a language even more complicated than swahili. She even alternates between Cove-Ops styled reports and her "OH. MY. GOSH!" exclamations as she ponders the ramifications of what those reports mean.

I loved this book. It would make a great teen girls movie, but I'm not sure if its actually in the making or not. I found myself back laughing at the picture perfect wording of the book, which made me feel like teenager again. I'm glad there are books like this out there for younger girls. I was the kind of "too smart for my own good" girl in school and reading books way too advanced for my age, so I'm not sure what age exactly is appropriate for the readers. But I think I would have loved the idea of there being a place where smart was cool, and not just relegated to being the uncool nerd friend needed to solve problems for the hero. I would have loved to play with pulley-systems and learned what could be gleaned from searching through garbage. It would have inspired the girl in me who has become fascinated with shows like CSI, the Pretender, Profiler, Bones and Criminal Minds. If you have a smart and curious girl who loves knowledge and information, I would highly recommend you get her this book. I can't wait to read "Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy," in fact, I think I'll start reading it now.

PS.

After having read Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy, I now take back my comment about it being a great teen girls movie. I think Disney or Nickelodeon should make it into a TV series. Can't wait to read the next ones!

Empire Fan Favorites

2010-03-29T22:51:00.000-04:00

My newest favorite thing to do in Vancouver, is watching "classic" movies at the Empire Theatre on Granville. The company has brought us Empire Fan Favorites, which takes place in cities across Canada.

They have been purchasing the rights to play older movies on the big screen, and I first noticed them last summer. As I walked home from work one day, I saw they were advertising Ghostbusters on the big screen on a Sunday night. It was my friend Jen's and my tv/movie night (we hang out every Sunday) but we couldn't pass at the movie night, especially when the price was SO right. $10 including movie, popcorn and beverage, or $7 for the movie alone. We had such an awesome time. They made pins with the Ghostbusters logo on it, had a raffle in support of a local charity, and gave out prizes for ghostbusters trivia. It was totally fun. I'd never seen the movie on the big screen, only on video on a normal (small by our standards now) tv. The audience was a mix of people, most of whom had seen the movie before, so nobody complained at jokes made about the movie or comments made by the audience.

Since then, they've played both Ghostbusters I & II at Halloween, Pulp Fiction, Home Alone at Christmas, the Princess Bride in February, and last Friday, The Breakfast Club. I love these movies. These are staples, most of which I've only seen on the small screen. For April, they are taking suggestions, both at their facebook page and in their twitter account. It seems the east coast seems to be doing these far more frequently, almost every week in some cities. Here in Vancouver, its once a month, and there's always a sponsored charity involved. For the price, and the fun of watching some older movies along with some really yummy popcorn and some fun people, this is one of my new favorite things to do in Vancouver, and if you see the opportunity in Vancouver, or in any other of the cities near you, I highly recommend it.

For the record, I would like to recommend Ferris Bueller's Day Off, E.T., Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Labrynth, When Harry Met Sally, and The Original Star Wars Trilogy.

My Olympic Experience - Video/Picture Version

2010-02-28T22:38:00.000-05:00

It was a blast. Here's my photo/vid experience highlights. I might have some thoughts I'll put down later. In the meantime...

GO CANADA GO!!!!

Random Hockey Game (Red vs. White):

Granville Street:

Robson Square:

Judge Me... A Poem

2010-02-23T14:19:00.000-05:00

Judge Me...

Judge me if you will,
     tell me what you think is best.
Present your arguments loud and clear
black and white
wrong and right
     the choice is obvious in such harsh light.

Judge me if you want,
     I see your point of view.
Its not as if I haven't heard your arguments before.
I sat on the fence looking at both sides
back and forth
right and left
     until I fell off dizzied from the circular discourse.

Judge me if you must
     it's easy enough to do.
I have done so a million times myself.
Questioning this turn of events that brought me here.
Cynic, selfish, stubborn
impetuous, careless, senseless
     my self-labels are far worse than any names you could ever call me.

Judge me if you dare
     but make sure you know what it is you condemn.
Simple? not so.
How could you know?
You were absent from my decision-making,
     consumed by your own life's little dilemmas and dramas.
You weren't there when i reached out to you.
I tried
I cried
     I believed I was alone in your constant disregard.
So I chose.

Judge me if you will
     for the choice that should have seemed so clear.
It came
it was made
I live with the consequences.
     and you continue in your disrespect.
Its okay for you to judge me now,
I harbour no ill-will
     save judging you for not being there for me.

© H Fitzpatrick 2010

Olympic Torch

2010-02-17T22:11:00.000-05:00

Olympic fever is everywhere. From the fans taking over all of Robson Street and Robson Square, to this surprisingly quiet corner at Pender and Burrard, where the hot dog vendors have even gotten into the action.

Of course the crowds were a lot bigger on the west side of the International Broadcast Centre, where they are are straining to get pictures of the Olympic torch. I went over, hoping to get a picture, a glimpse and maybe reflect on the Olympics, but its tough when people are politely pushing and waiting to take pictures of such an iconic Olympic monument. Its difficult to get close to the torch because of the fence, but at least they cut a slit through the fence so people can take pictures. But I patiently braved the crowds, and wove my way up to the corner where I could take a few pics.

Here's my favorite. Enjoy!

Olympic Celebration or Olympic Cynicism?

2010-02-10T01:50:00.000-05:00

I suppose this post is long over due, since most people who know me also know that I'm an Olympics junkie. I am that person who will sit glued to the tv as much as I can to watch the Olympics, despite work. I even took my thesis home for the duration of Torino Olympics in order to watch, and even narrated the opening ceremonies to my housemates who really could have cared less. So I suppose being in the city, walking by some of the events, it was only a matter of time before I would share my thoughts about the Vancouver Olympics. And they are many.

The most interesting things I've seen lately have been the ways you notice the Olympics that have nothing to do with what the public and tourists will notice. Buildings have once again been spray-washed to gleaming perfection (even in the rain as Vancouver residents seem to love to do). Turquoise volunteer coats are flooding the city. Cruise ships that house volunteers are docked at the freight shipping yard because Olympic security has closed off the Canada Place Cruise Ship terminal. Two Saturdays ago, I walked down to see the International Broadcast Centre and stopped into the nearby food court only to be shocked that it was completely full of police from all areas of the country: Vancouver police, Victoria Police, RCMP, etc. I don't think there was a safer place for me to be. Robson Square has been changed into a multimedia light show, and the light show over False creek is now running full tilt every night. Tourists with expensive cameras are everywhere. And random buildings have been converted into international houses; like the Vancouver International Film Festival building is currently the Slovak House, and a tent structure has been erected outside of Ceili's which is the Irish House. I am constantly amazed at how much has gone into planning these events.

The problem is, since my move here two and a half years ago, the Vancouver cynicism has been sucking out of me the joy I once felt for the "magic" of the Olympics. Being in the host city, you see glimpses into just how much of a show this truly is, just how many people are involved, and just how much money is spent in various ways. I listen to the cynics every day. People who on a daily basis are inconvenienced by the Olympics, like the businesses who can't get customers because fences have been put up blocking traffic right outside their doors. Or, people like my friend who drives to Squamish for work on a daily basis on the Sea to Sky Highway. She is essentially banned from travel (and work) on the main route to the Whistler venues; she is forced to take 2 weeks off in February, and another 2 weeks off in March for the Paralympics. Or my church friend, whose bus routes for all her cleaning jobs are completely changed for the 6 weeks surrounding both sets of games. I think the biggest cynics remain those who aren't directly affected by the Olympics. Instead, they are the people who have grown up with the city, who look around and simply say: lets watch and see how bad a failure this is going to be, then we can say 'I told you so.'

Artists and celebrities I tend to respect have also been publicly cynical about the events. Artists like Matt Good have been quick to point out the follies of the Olympics in their blogs. Newspapers like The Tyee are ensuring that dissident voices are heard, and even illustrating what the protesters stand for. I've even read articles that point out the benefits the money could have spent in the rest of the province, either in health care, education, or the fact that the majority of schools in Vancouver still need to be seismically upgraded. I'm afraid that major disasters will even be placed into the background during this expensive show.

Beyond the discourse of so many people, I have my own impressions of what the Olympics are doing to this city, and some of it is pretty disappointing. A number of Vancouver icons have been relabeled for the Olympics by Vanoc. I don't just mean that GM Place is going to be called Canada Hockey Place (here's hoping the taxi drivers remember this when shuffling tourists around). I mean that the city's iconography now has the Vanoc Brand. There's a certain expectation that the large Olympic sponsors will have a presence within the city. The Royal Bank has a massive poster of an arial skier down its 32 floors. Samsung has borrowed the glass of the TD Bank tower for its multi-story poster, showing a large phone, with Vancouver's mascots less than one third the size of that phone. Its a poster that you can see clearly driving across the Granville Bridge. These kinds of blatant corporate sponsorship I can understand in a way, simply because its expected and goes with the territory of putting on a multi-national event.

On the other hand, Vanoc has appropriated smaller city iconography it never invested in. There is a large mural on 2 sections of a building between Granville and Seymour as you cross the city bridge feature a school of orca. Its been there for 20 plus years, and as I crossed the bridge a few days ago, I noticed that over the sun, the Vancouver Inukshuk logo (which by the way is a northern native icon not a west coast one) was painted overtop of the mural. Vanoc had nothing to do with the mural in its origins, why would it do something like this to claim it now? Another special icon that I loved, and that formed the original post to this blog has been whitewashed to "clean up the city" for the Olympics. On Beatty street the murals along the parkade are gone, including this one. Originally a fundraiser for a Steve Nash foundation, I don't see the point in erasing these murals from the public since I find that quite beautiful.

Other issues have been frequently pointed out to me. The Vancouver Olympics are supposed to be the Green Olympics, which is a tad ironic given the lack of snow currently on Cypress Mountain (they are actually going to have to ship snow in). David Suzuki has given the sustainable effort a bronze medal citing problems like improving conditions for car use to Whistler instead of creating a direct train. I know a good chunk of the buildings are designed to not only be sustainable, but also to be reused in the community. The Chevrolet Volt (an all electrical car) is being used as a sustainable model for driving during the Olympics. But unfortunately, sustainability for events like this isn't only found in the buildings. I know someone who for a time worked for Vanoc helping to organize transportation for dignitaries. Politics is never a sweet issue, and most countries are asking for 1 vehicle per dignitary, and won't carpool with members from their own country on the busy Sea to Sky highway. The International broadcast centre is supposed to be designed to be completely recycled at the end of its use, but countries are competitive and want to outdo each other with their broadcast facilities (certain network presidents even want their own private toilets). Not only that, but there are events planned in the convention centre where the broadcasters are housed scheduled for 2 weeks after the close of the ceremonies. Demolition in such a short time frame often leads to shortcuts in recycling materials. On top of that, my Olympics tickets were shipped in a massively oversized Purolator envelope with high gloss books and receipts that cannot be recycled. I will keep my tickets, but honestly, why wouldn't I recycle my receipt?

And the worst part, is these are the parts of the Olympics that I know enough about. If you ask about Native rights, you will get a slew of responses. If you talk to people in the arts community, they will show you just how little funding the cultural Olympiad has received for the hoops they had to jump through to get it. As you can imagine, this city's overall cynicism can be a bit of a downer, despite CTV's wonderfully upbeat advertisements. At times, I truly do find it hard to believe.

But I am trying to remember my first love. As the opening ceremonies arrive in a few short days, I have been reminded of the reasons I always loved the Olympic events. First, the stories of the athletes who have struggled to get to the point where they can represent their countries. These are people who have followed their dreams and worked harder than most people ever do to get there to the point where they can compete in one of the biggest international competitions in the world. Then there are the small things that unite the athletes. Every Olympiad North and South Korea walk into the opening ceremonies united together. These are people who don't normally get to spend time together, adversaries not only in competition but also in life who are united for a few hours every few years. I realize the cynics will ask "what does it change?" But for those athletes who get to connect together for a short period of time, it potentially changes everything, because it can change their hearts. It reminds me that in Canada, Liberal or Conservative, NDP or Green, we can all at least support our nations athletes united together. I remember that quite frankly, I would much rather have people compete in corporate-sponsored events than to commit to wars.

I remember the wonderful stories where anything can happen in the Olympics, like in Torino, when an Australian speed skater came from fourth to a gold medal win because the front 3 contenders all collided as one into the boards. Or when the Swedish women's hockey team met with Canada in the finals, proving that women's hockey was more than just for a US or Canadian team. Or how honored athletes are when they get to carry their national flag into the stadium for the opening or closing ceremonies. Or how the Jamaican bobsled team managed to complete their run despite a horrifying accident (thank you John Candy). There are so many stories, and I like to enjoy collecting them. They speak volumes of the human spirit. They are today's heros and their determination and perseverance are qualities I respect and admire.

So as the Olympics arrive, and put Vancouver and Canada back on centre stage, I am going to try to remember my first love for the magic of the Olympics. I am going to support the Canadian athletes, and hope that they do their absolute best in every competition, and make us proud and united as a nation. I may even buy a pair of red wool mittens with a white maple leaf and wear them to the only event I am currently attending: Germany vs. Finland men's hockey (only because I couldn't get tickets to see Canada play).

Go Canada Go!

Its Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

2009-11-26T23:45:00.000-05:00

I love christmas, especially around the area I live in downtown. Vancouver can be really depressing this time of year, and it seems like we've had nothing but downpours for the last 2 weeks. The rain we've gotten isn't breaking records, but it is above normal. Since the weather today was so fabulous (thank you sun for coming out today!!!) I decided to venture out shopping on Robson, and realized how awesome the christmas lights are. Down town they're everywhere! The Fairmont Hotel Vancouver's copper roof is completely lit up with classic white lights. In the low cloud it tends to create a really beautiful foggy glow.

As I went down Robson Street, the whole road was lit up with really white lights in the trees, with ornaments celebrating christmas.

A couple of years ago this was a more common site around Vancouver, with construction cranes everywhere lit up for the holidays. Most of them included signs advertising for construction companies along with their holiday lights, proudly advertising their projects. Unfortunately, times were better then, and construction hasn't been quite the same in the last 2 years. Few companies are willing to pay the added electrical costs associated with lighting up the cranes and brightening up the city during the dreary wet holidays in Vancouver. But at least this company did. This is the crane for The Patina condominium, under construction by Concert Properties.

Some of the hotels have gotten involved for their visitors, including the Sutton Place Hotel, wishing everyone Season's Greetings.

The Sheraton Wall Centre lit up its courtyards trees for its visitors, getting into the spirit of the season.

My favorite lights by far in Vancouver are lit up every year as a fundraiser for St. Paul's Hospital on Burrard Street. The Lights of Hope display are put up every year by firefighters who donate their time to mount the intensive display that includes major scaffolding donated by major fundraisers to the project. The large boards on the side of St. Paul's says:

Thanks to the generosity of the community, the Lights of Hope fundraising campaign has raised more than $12 million for St. Paul's Hospital since 1998. The fundraising campaign helps to support enhanced patient care, research and teaching throughout the hospital.

I love how magical this display is. It takes a lot of effort to put it on every year, and a lot of funds and this year, I've heard that the lights will continue beyond christmas and into the Olympics. I think its such a fantastic idea, though I hope that it doesn't get dwarfed by the Olympics lighting display.

If you want to donate to the Lights of Hope for St. Paul's, and for more information on the hospital, please click here.

Fringe & MacLeod's Books

2009-11-23T16:09:00.000-05:00

Instead of the popular twitter topic Music Mondays, I think here in my area should be Movie Mondays. Last week I watched from my office as they used the top level of a parking lot to film a soon-to-be released tv show called Shattered. Today, on this rainy Vancouver Monday, I rounded the corner to my office to see bright lights surrounding MacLeod's Books. Only today, its being called Maryam's. The notice in my building indicates that its for the TV show Fringe, starring canadian Joshua Jackson (Dawson's Creek), among others. I haven't seen much of Fringe, but it has a bit of an X-Files feel to it, though that view may be solely personal. The fact that its filming around Vancouver fuels that impression as well, since X-Files has everything Vancouver in it. While I may not have been able to catch a glimpse of Joshua or any of the other actors from the show, (my view isn't good from my desk and I do have to work after all...) what I love the most is that MacLeod's is being used. MacLeod's Books is a used bookstore that has a reputation for having rare books that you actually have to make an appointment to see. Despite the fact that many used book stores are closing because they cannot compete with the Indigo, Chapters and Amazon's of the world, MacLeod's is the kind of place a bibliophile could spend hours in, just browsing and imagining. More impressively, it has a kind of international recognition from even travel guide Fodor's. One reviewer in the yelp.ca website likened it to "searching in your grandmother's attic, opening a wardrobe, and falling into another world." I only wish it could have retained its name in the TV show Fringe.

Shattered

2009-11-16T15:47:00.000-05:00

Today I came to work with a sign posted on the building. The TV show Shattered was filming in the Parking Garage Roof next door. Today's scene involves a car chase with police and fake guns in more than typical Vancouver weather, and screaming in area behind. I am lucky enough to get a bird's eye-ish view on the unfolding scene below.(sorry about the picture, its through a rain-soaked window on a very grey day.) Its raining hard today, and power has been knocked out in several areas around the city. This isn't stopping the film crew, and in some cases, its not stopping the cars in the chase around the parking garage, as I watched from my window seat a few stories up, the car nearly hit the actor a few times as it skidded in the puddles. I think the filming industry in Vancouver is awesome; I can't believe the extent people go to just to film what probably amounts to a few seconds on film. The resets, the hours of multiple crew members standing in inclement weather. Its pretty amazing what goes into a few moments of on screen magic. My hat goes off to anyone in the industry as I would not like to trade places with you in this weather.

On a note related to an earlier post, the screaming in the scene got me really on edge because the last time I heard a scream like that I saw the tail end of a real life hostage situation. I'm glad today's is part of a TV show, at least when the screaming happens I can recognize the pattern in the script. (Long, short, short).

Concert: U2 with guests the Black Eyed Peas

2009-11-03T01:14:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday October 28th I saw the long-awaited U2 360 Tour, Vancouver concert. My friends on the east coast had been posting pictures and updates as U2 slowly made their way across the continent making me completely jealous, and it created more anticipation as the days grew closer. I own the U2 Live at Slane Castle DVD, but this was the first time I'd ever seen the band live. Yep, I was born the year their first album came out, and its taken me 30 years to get to the point where I could say I've seen them live. It was well worth the wait.

I was a more than jealous of my east coast friends when I found out that I would have the Black Eyed Peas opening for U2 instead of Snow Patrol. Snow Patrol has been my newest band of choice in the last couple of years, and I really hope they will visit Vancouver again in the near future. I would never have gone out my way to see the Black Eyed Peas, simply because I considered them a fluff band. I was most definitely mistaken in that opinion. At just under an hour long, the Black Eyed Peas put on a fantastic show. They had a ton of energy, and their vocals were top notch. Fergie was most the impressive to me; as she sang some of her solo work I realized it had more impact on me than I believed. As I sang along to the song Big Girls Don't Cry, I couldn't help but think about how 2 years ago, that was my theme song for my move out west. My move to Vancouver wasn't about anyone else but me, and I was going to be strong as I moved. Where is the Love? brought back so many memories of my time in Boston, as it was just taking off on the radio as I lived there. I was a Canadian girl living in the US, solo aside from a roommate that I didn't connect with, and I loved waking up in the morning to that song. I wish they'd ended with that song, but lets face it, Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night was the perfect song to lead into U2's set. Overall, I was incredibly impressed with Black Eyed Peas, and think they did an awesome job opening the show.

U2 impressed me even more. I'd seen their live DVD, and friends had told me about concerts back east, so the 360 stage was all set for Bono to give his typical energetic performance. However, Bono mostly walked the stage, and from the 'flare prayer' asking to have a voice 1/3 of the way into the show, I could tell he was sick. His voice was higher pitched than normal, he had to take breaks from singing, and he didn't run that evening. Instead, Bono fought. He fought to keep singing. He fought to tell us about Burma's leader under house arrest. He fought to keep us all energized and give us a night worth the money spent to "give them a great life." He fought to be passionate. And he fought the emotion of the evening as his band members hugged, on this years final performance with the boys on the 360 tour. I can only imagine what the tour did to him physically and emotionally, and I believe it came out that night. They created a live version of Gonna Go Crazy that was far better than the mellow original recording. (honestly who puts mellow music with the lyrics I'm gonna go crazy if I don't go crazy tonight?). Renditions of Stand By Me left the building singing and hugging, as he took out his earpiece to listen. Sunday Bloody Sunday held the same if not more passionate tone every time he sings it, and I couldn't help but wonder at how timeless U2's lyrics truly are. Over all, I don't believe Vancouver had a normal U2 performance. How can we, when Bill Gates was somewhere in the audience for his birthday, and to thank him for all his support, the entire stadium sang Happy Birthday? I believe we got more, simply because Bono didn't give up fighting. I am so humbled, that a man would fight so much for one packed stadium audience, and I think how lucky people are when he takes their cause. Because I know he will never stop fighting, for whatever cause he believes him. I think I have a lot to learn.

Sky Dancing

2009-10-22T22:05:00.000-04:00

This post is a bit delayed, I really wish I'd known about it ahead of time. I saw this "rehearsal" on the way to a friends place on Monday October 5th. I think its pretty darn amazing. The director was lying down on the ground with a megaphone shouting directions at the aerial acrobats, and a sign said something about Gargoyles. I'm not sure what the rehearsal was for, but I wanted to know the freedom that they must have felt as they bounded off the Vancouver Public Library. I know its the type of stunt that requires months, if not years of training, but I wished I knew their abandon anyway, dancing on the sides of the building. Even if I had the ropes in place, I'd probably be scared out of my mind, but the slow ballet-like moves took me into another world. It seemed graceful, elegant and easy. I can only imagine what kind of music would be put with this choreography. Beautiful, if I get a chance, I'll watch it again. I hope you enjoy the magic too.

Did that really happen?

2009-09-14T21:22:00.000-04:00

Its not a full moon, but that's usually the first thing people suspect when something like this goes down.

I was at work early this morning, shortly after 8am. My boss and I were getting ready for a presentation for a potential client. He parked outside the door rather than at his usual parkade so we could load up his car. We brought down our equipment shortly before 8:30, and as my boss went back up to restock his business cards, I heard screaming outside. When you live downtown in a city full of lane ways you get used to the occasional scream. Sometimes its a playful scream from someone having a bit too much fun, especially with a downtown party area so close by. Sometimes, its an angry scream, the kind that happens when a drug addict is high or trying to get high. Usually the anger can be heard for several blocks. This scream was different. It wasn't just one followed by laughter or yelling, it kept going. It held... despair. It was the kind of sound you hear when a person has let go of all their emotions.

I stepped outside to see what was going on. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have, but curiosity and the strong need to help drove me to it. I saw a two buses on the street, and a woman crying at the lane way opening. A police officer walked near me, gun in hand at the ready pose, and approached the first bus. That's when I noticed several police officers at the bus front door, and they entered inside. I could only see shadows, until they pulled back, and a man emerged, hands on his head. He did as they ordered, dropping to his knees, and then lying face down, while they slowly approached, guns pointed. He was handcuffed, and then rolled over. Blood covered his shirt. I turned, alternating from video recording to walking backwards in disbelief that the scene was taking place right in front of me. As this took place more police officers showed up. Unmarked Suburban SUVs blocked my boss in from behind, trapping us and keeping us held as witnesses to the aftermath of a crazy scene. I moved out of the way as police officers showed up, one in full gear, holding either a rifle or shotgun diagonally in front of him. He seemed relaxed, but I sensed his hands were prepared to point the gun and shoot when necessary. I remember thinking, I should get out of the way, and moving off to our building's entrance. An ambulance arrived on the other side of the bus, it had to back up to let paramedics and a stretcher through. The police cordoned off the area, and we asked if we could get out. It would be some time before that would happen. Officers took statements from the woman, and my boss went to get her a towel because she had blood on herself as well. The paramedics worked on the suspect, his shirt undone and blood everywhere, and we were given the story by a person in the building. Her coworker was on the bus when the suspect pulled a knife and held the woman hostage. After she got out, he turned the knife on himself. I could see she didn't escape unscathed. Although calmer now, she held the towel to her hand tightly. I looked around, and there were no journalists in sight. It seemed odd to me.

Seeing there wasn't much more we could do, and worried about whether we could make our presentation meeting on time, my boss asked again if we could get out. As I got into the car, I saw my coworker arrive from his vacation at the door, and I welcomed him back sarcastically. The black suburban SUV pulled out behind us and we were able to leave as the paramedics readied the suspect for the stretcher. It was 8:50.

We drove to the presentation, and then to a site meeting after. We returned to the office, and I stepped out for a late lunch. There was no sign of what happened, it was all like a dream, or maybe even a nightmare. My coworker said there was blood everywhere from the suspect in a torso shaped print, but I could see none remained. As I walked to get my lunch, I looked at the sidewalk where I remembered the woman standing. I could see 3 drops of blood that still remained. It wasn't a dream.

At the moment, I'm not sure what surprises me more. That it felt so surreal, like I was part of a CSI episode. That people openly blamed the fact that the suspect and those like him should have been locked away (how do we do that until something like this happens?). Or that when I returned, it was like nothing had happened. Vancouver is known for spray washing its sidewalks and streets, which is odd for a city with so much rain. But I had to look for those 3 telltale blood drops to prove it was real. I have the video I took. Nothing glamorous, but I decided not to send it to any news outlet. If I were her, I wouldn't want to relive the moment on tv. I'm not sure how I'll feel tomorrow, but for now, I'm still in disbelief.

Seattle: Music, Jim Henson and Frank O. Gehry

2009-07-13T14:59:00.000-04:00

On Saturday I took the Quick Shuttle from Vancouver to Seattle and back again, on a journey to actually venture in to see the Experience Music Project/Science Fiction Museum (EMP/SFM), specifically the Jim Henson Exhibit. (If you've never taken the Quick Shuttle, its a pretty nice experience, inexpensive and though the border can take some time crossing, its got free Wi-Fi.)

While I've been to Seattle before, I was visiting friends. I was able to see the exterior of the EMP/SFM before, but I didn't want to force my friends into joining me for a visit, making them pay yet again to take a friend around the building. It was then that I found out about the Jim Henson exhibit, and being a child of the 80s influenced by shows like Fraggle Rock, Sesame Street (US and Canadian) and the Muppet Show, I decided to make a trip just to see it.

I'll start with my experience of the EMP side of the building. The exhibits were wonderfully interactive: you can make your own band, see how good a dj you'd be (its harder than you think trying to match beats between 2 different songs), record a music video (and purchase the dvd) and see a multitude of exhibits. I had trouble getting to try all the interactive things mostly because so many people were using them. Its a great building to bring children, but it gets hard for grownups to actually try things because the kids tend to have the run of the place. I would have liked to try the guitar, vocals, or drums, but there was something strange about not having anyone to join in with me.

The exhibits dedicated to homegrown icons like Jimi Hendrix, Pearl Jam and Nirvana were interesting, as were those dedicated to west coast hiphop. I found the Hatch print exhibit amazing, especially knowing that they still print traditional posters on old-school printing presses. Its an art form all to itself. I wish either of the gift shops had offered postcards of some of the wall prints they had on display. And the evolution of the electric guitar was particularly fascinating: especially the strange hybrid instrument that looked like a euphonium and sitar mated. It was easy to spend hours wandering the exhibits and taking it all in. The church space was beautiful and elegant, though I'm still not sure I heard the perfect acoustics they described. Also of note, the artists and their experiences exhibit was interesting. I especially like Nichelle Nichols' story about how Martin Luther King Jr. talked her into staying to play Uhura on the original Star Trek show.

The science fiction exhibit left me wanting just a little more. They had some interesting videos on how the future cities reflected the ideas and philosophies of the times they were written, like Blade Runner and the Matrix, but I they'd delved deeper and found more footage and examples. The Jim Henson exhibit was both fascinating and a bit of a letdown in and of itself. I was amazed to hear about how Jim partnered with IBM for several commercials, and the 10 second commercials they played made fun of the advertising industry. They still make me laugh, 50 years after they originally aired. I also found it absolutely fascinating that Jim Henson wanted to create a night club in the 70s, and his sketches were of crazy psychadellic coloured and oddly shaped buildings. How ironically appropriate then, that his exhibit would be showcased in the EMP/SFM, a Gehry building oddly shaped with crazy colours and materials. The exhibit itself was colourful, with accent walls in lovely lime green and fluorescent pink fur; it was a vibrant tactile environment in stark contrast to the dark brooding spaces of the sci-fi apocalyptic exhibits. The world set up to showcase his work was not similar to the world of Fraggle Rock as I had hoped. I wanted a world a little more in line with that of the Vancouver Aquarium, with climbable rocks for children to sit on; a world of the imagination children of all ages could actually enter into and interact with their favorite muppets. This left me slightly disappointed. I suspect that had Jim been alive to see his body of work exhibited, he would have wanted that too. I was also disappointed that I was not allowed to take photos of Jim Henson's creatures (without flash even) which I did despite them.

Having now been to 2 of Frank O. Gehry's iconic buildings, (EMP/SFM and Toronto's AGO) I think I was better able to understand the pros and cons of the Seattle EMP/SFM. While the overall building left me amazed and somewhat overwhelmed at its construction (I can't imagine doing the contract admin for that project), I was left with a bit of disappointment with regards to the interior of the building. The exterior leaves no doubt whatsoever of the artistic intent of the building. It wraps around the monorail, projects out, and sensually curves in to the entrances. From above its supposed to look like a broken guitar (according to published materials in the gift shop). But the inside focuses solely on the exhibits, and not on using the ample and curved volumes created by the exterior shell. With few exceptions, the roof structure is composed of grey spray insulation and fire retardent and grey-backed insulation. Little natural light shines through, and even the large music sculpture ends in grey. Contrast this for a second with the more sedate AGO. Its still an iconic building from the outside, but its interior spaces both celebrate the art within and create beautiful interior spaces to enjoy within their own right. Perhaps it is simply a budgetary constraint with the EMP/SFM. Perhaps it has something to do with the complex acoustic design needs for a building that allows people to experience music instead of just celebrating it. Perhaps the AGO seems better inside because of a more mature architectural touch. Either way, there were opportunities missed within the SMP/SFM that could have truly enhanced the experience of the place. Despite what might be a negative review of the EMP/SFM, I had a really fantastic time, and spent more than 5 hours wandering the exhibit. Its a great place for families and friends to visit.

99 1/2

2009-07-09T15:11:00.001-04:00

Tuesday was a highlight for me with a very unusual celebration. Edgar is a retired member of the Delta Concert Band who still comes out to watch us play, even though we've moved our location from the Ladner Community Centre to Seaquam Secondary. He drives out every Tuesday to listen to us play, because he was a part of our group not too long ago. So when he asked us to play for his 99 1/2 birthday celebration on Tuesday, how could we say no? (pictures up shortly if possible) The weather was rainy and cold outside, but warm and inviting as we cozied up to play a repertoire of music Edgar requested. We tried to play as quietly as we could, because the Kinsman Club was small compared to the outdoor venue we would have had if it hadn't rained. We took breaks as Edgar told stories and thanked people, and as others offered him well wishes. Cupcakes were arranged to make the number 99.5, and there were plenty for everyone. So many in fact, that friends could take one home for their dog. There were so many people, they couldn't all fit within the room, and they lined up outside the room and up the stairs in the entry beyond. Edgar is one of the charter members of the Kinsmen Club that hosted the event. And as he thanked everyone, he said he had two important loves: the Kinsmen Club, and the Delta Community Band. I was amazed at how two separate groups of people, who may come and go, can have that much of an effect on the man's life. Anybody who knows me know that I am not one for celebrating my birthday. But someone, celebrating the life of a man who has lived for a century, and seen a great many things, brings me a profound feeling of awe. The Kinsmen Club is hosting another celebration for Edgar come September, and will be selling tickets shortly. I feel he deserves another celebration after supporting us for so long.

Happy Birthday Edgar, and many more.

Wake-Up Call

2009-04-22T15:36:00.000-04:00

5 am this morning I was woken up to the Fire Alarm. I quickly put on some outdoorsy clothes, grabbed my purse, locked my door (I can never remember if I'm supposed to do that...) and stepped lightly down the 8 floors of stairs to get outside. Most people stayed in the lobby, or in their own apartments. I did not, because in my head was the voice of my audiologist friend, who's advice is always "protect your hearing!!!" 30 minutes later we went back into the building, but not after taking a picture or two to keep myself occupied and my mind from thinking about how cold that huge wind was. I amused myself with the knowledge that the firefighter at our building's control panel was named Lamb. It must have been the fatigue, but for some reason, I thought it was very amusing, and somewhat appropriate that a big protective fire-fighting man was named Lamb. So I took his pic. Needless to say I didn't go to the gym this morning, because it took another 30 minutes for the adrenaline to subside enough to fall asleep. Here's hoping for unbroken sleep tonight!

No Compromise

2009-04-16T18:23:00.000-04:00

There is a redeemer,
Jesus, God's own Son,
Precious Lamb of God, Messiah,
Holy One,

Jesus my redeemer,
Name above all names,
Precious Lamb of God, Messiah,
Oh, for sinners slain.

Thank you oh my father,
For giving us Your Son,
And leaving Your Spirit,
'Til the work on Earth is done.

When I stand in Glory,
I will see His face,
And there I'll serve my King forever,
In that Holy Place.

Thank you oh my father,
For giving us Your Son,
And leaving Your Spirit,
'Til the work on Earth is done.

There is a redeemer,
Jesus, God's own Son,
Precious Lamb of God, Messiah,
Holy One,

Thank you oh my father,
For giving us Your Son,
And leaving Your Spirit,
'Til the work on Earth is done.
And leaving Your Spirit,
'Till the work on Earth is done.

Keith and Melody Green

Its been a really long time since I've read the book, but I was reminded about it yesterday while my bible study group was discussing older worship songs. The name Keith Green popped up, and I was surprised to know how little my group knew about his life. For those who may have forgotten, Keith Green and his wife Melody wrote the worship song, There Is a Redeemer. Melody also wrote the inspiring story of her husband's life and tragic death in the book No Compromise. It is about their search for faith and purpose in God, and the way they deal with people, and their ministry.

In university, one of the campus christian group leaders read the book, and was so inspired by the "give-away" ministry that Keith and Melody Green had with his music, that they ordered 200 books to give to us. Melody Green found out about it, and doubled the order, free for them, so they could give out the books. When I read the book, I gave away my copy to read, but loved it so much, I bought a second. I then proceeded to pass that one along too. I have since bought a third copy, and passed it along. Its that inspiring. I hope that you will read it, and think about passing along his story.

Go Canucks Go!

2009-04-15T15:15:00.000-04:00

Its official, the playoffs are here. This morning at my 7am walk to the gym, I discovered that Canuck Fans have hit the streets early, waving flags and handing out hand towels with the Vancouver Canucks Logo in support of our city's hockey team. Many a horn honked their support while I stopped to take a picture.

Hockey playoffs are always big news in Canada, but this year especially, I find my loyalties questioned from within. I have always been a Leaf Fan. Its hard not be when raised just outside of Toronto, and working within the city during games or playoffs. But Toronto has not been doing so well. In fact, the Toronto Maple Leaf website has the Marlies playoffs listed, since the leafs didn't make the playoffs this year. (again.) A couple of weeks ago I went with Family to a Canucks game, which was far more exciting than I could have imagined. I'm absolutely certain the Canucks team members couldn't hear me from where I was sitting, but that didn't stop me from cheering them on at the top of my lungs, especially since they were playing the hated ducks. Its only the second time I've been to an NHL game, the last being when I saw the Leafs play in Boston in the fall of 2003. But my heart truly leaped in my chest when Mats Sundin stepped onto the ice. Captain of the Maple Leafs for many a season, many Toronto fans feel he was poorly treated in his last year. To me it didn't matter. In some way, cheering him on gave me the feeling that I was home again, though in Toronto I would never be able to afford the tickets.

I anticipate crazy fans wandering about the streets. Sports, for some reason, definitely brings out the passion in people. Even while calculating plus-minuses when watching my brother play hockey in both house league and rep teams, I still got passionately supportive of his team, screaming at them to pass, and even to body check their opponents; once they were old enough to try. Hopefully the Stanley cup playoffs unify this city, and gives crowd control and celebrations a test run prior to the opening ceremonies.

Me, I look forward to following my canucks in the playoffs. If the Leafs made it I would definitely follow them too. After both teams, I support any other Canadian team. But once the summer rolls around, I am looking forward to watching the Galaxy play because I love soccer. Maybe I'll get the chance to see Beckham in soccer once more.

Balloon Man

2009-04-14T15:20:00.000-04:00

My brother arrived the weekend of the Juno Awards, which took place in Vancouver. For three days leading up to the televised broadcast on Sunday, Graville Street was converted into a large musical block party, between Nelson and Robson streets. It was a great time, though I missed getting my West Jet scratch and win opportunity. Some events were ticketed, some were free, and it was a great chance to see some very talented Canadian Musicians.

Wandering along the street with my brother and our cousin who lives in the West End, we came across this talented ballooner. My cousin said he's usually located out on Robson or Denman when he's out, and I'll bet he's on the beach at times in the summer. He's pretty talented, better than even Vince Vaughn in Wedding Crashers. As you can see, he's done a pluto-ette, several bouquets of flowers, and even, Homer J Simpson. If you see him on the street, its worth watching him work. He's very talented. And you might even want to pick up some balloons for someone. If I see him again, I'll post his usual local.

My Quirky Vancouver

2009-04-10T22:06:00.000-04:00

I love this city.

Vancouver has been my home for the last 18 months, and I'm still not tired of it. Its been at least a year since I've stopped being the tourist and become more like the citizen I ought to be. Still I find that everywhere I look, there is something to see. I'm not sure what it is exactly that keeps me so intrigued, but I find that everywhere I look something is happening. I've been to the Juno Awards, the Vancouver International Dance Festival, the Canucks Hockey games, and I've seen the fabulous international sites geared towards hosting the world for the Olympics in 2010. These are the things the rest of the world knows about my city, these are the attractions the tourist flock to when they come to visit. Between that and the beauty of the natural surroundings, most people are left with a really amazing view of Vancouver.

The irony is, there's so much more to Vancouver than the Olympics, and what we will be trying to present to the world then. There are things I see every day on the street, or happen to notice because I've taken a different route home from work. This is not to say that everything I see in this city is good; Vancouver has a dark side to rival just about any international city. The homelessness alone in this city can make a new resident or visitor forget Vancouver's natural surroundings.

Take the above picture for example. There is a parking lot near the Stadium station in Vancouver that has graffiti covering the east wall. I happened to be passing by on my way back from picking up the Juno Award tickets I purchased. On the corner rests this lovely woman with sunglasses. Its not a landmark listed in the Lonely Planet or other published guides of Vancouver, but here she is. She is often overlooked because of the homeless that gather on the corner, simply because people tend to walk by as quickly as possible. To me, she has an air about her, one that is relaxed, but makes you want to know what she's looking at, and what she's thinking. She could be the coolest person in the world, the one that everyone wants to be around because she's accepting and contemplative. Or, she could be wearing the sunglasses to hide the overwhelming hurt in her life. Either way, she's beautiful and intriguing. So is my Vancouver.

With this blog, I simply hope to inspire other people to take a better look around them where they are. I hope you will take a breath, walk slower, and look around your city. They all have such amazing qualities, and are so unique. I only hope I can tell the story of my Vancouver in such a way that brings her to new light.

What I learned in 2007

2008-02-15T01:00:00.000-05:00

Below is the only way I've been able to grasp all of the things that happened last year, that have affected me. Its cryptic, but it has to be. Enjoy.

What I learned in 2007.

I learned that I can spend two years on a project everyone excitedly pushed through to the end, only to find out it was flawed all along and had to be redone at the last minute.

I learned that I can study a topic, know the definitions and ideas cold, but that it is all useless when confronted with the reality of someone suffering from the very problems I was trying to solve.

I learned that gossip is simply vindictiveness or self-importance in disguise. I’ve learned gossipers are usually the first to abandon their topic in a crisis, since they feel they are above the one they hurt. I learned that supporting someone’s life is a choice and not a right, to the detriment of loved ones.

I learned that some people will be your friends because they need a shoulder to lean on, but the moment the stable person in their lives has issues they get away as fast as humanly possible. I learned that few people will give their own time to deal with my problems when they consider theirs larger, and I must then bear the weight of both upon my shoulders. I learned that when I allow it, others will consume as much of my time as they possibly can.

I learned that there are those who will break my heart, and not even care, or worse not even notice. I learned that I cannot choose who my heart loves, but that I can, in fact, choose to follow my heart or leave it behind. I learned that heartbreak doesn’t necessarily go away simply because I have walked away from whatever caused it.

I learned that people who profess love as their core identity are sometimes the people who are least likely to give it, while the people who don’t profess it, are the ones who so freely give it when it is required. I learned that the people who attend weddings may never be the lifelong friends I imagined they were. I learned that ultimatums never work; they only clarify how little respect the person giving the ultimatum has for the person receiving it.

I learned that if I just ask for help, rather than assume I have to keep it all inside, that some friend will answer the call. I learned that the person who keeps everyone’s secrets is the person the most likely to be suffering alone. I learned that a crisis will bring out all the turmoil hidden inside myself, and that it must come out somehow, so I might as well share with someone I trust. I learned that being vulnerable makes me more approachable, and less inhuman.

I learned that I can do great things when I choose to step forward, get noticed, and try something new. I learned that while I may be shy, I can be brave enough to meet new people, and make new friends.

I learned that the ideas worth pursuing are the ones that pursue me.

I learned that I cannot maintain all the friendships I’ve had in my life, and that it is worth walking away from those who indicate they don’t really care. I learned that true friends are the ones who stick around to say goodbye when you leave to pursue life in a different place, or the ones who wait to greet you when you arrive.

I learned that there is one person who will go the distance with you when it is needed. I learned that people are busy, but out of sight doesn’t always mean out of mind.

I learned that a person may be changing for the better before my eyes, and I am so consumed with my life that I never notice enough to ask about it.

I have learned that all things, my behavior, and that of others towards me and the people I know, affect my faith, and the core of who I am, which means it must also affect others too. I learned that healing is a long, never-ending process, either because I scratch the healing wounds, or because new bruises have been added. I learned that healing is worthwhile, if I am ever to be whole.

The Highly Sensitive Person

2007-11-12T14:36:00.000-05:00

Its been a while since I've written in this blog, and not because I haven't read bits and pieces here and there. But it occurred to me that perhaps I should write a bit about a very informative book. Elaine N. Aron wrote a book called The Highly Sensitive Person. In personal discussion, a friend told me how someone had recommended the book to her, and it changed her life. Recognizing some of the traits that this friend described in another person, I purchased the book, to read before passing it along. While some of it applied to me directly, (I am a sensitive person, though not highly so), I learned a lot of things that applied to some of the people I know. Since reading the book in August, I have passed it on to those who may get more value out of it than I. But, I would recommend it to anyone who may say yes to any of the questions listed on the book's online description page:

Are you easily overwhelmed by stimuli? Affected by other people's moods? Easily startled? Do you need to withdraw during busy times to a private, quiet place? Do you get nervous or shaky if someone is observing you or competing with you? Do you have a keen imagination and vivid dreams? Is time alone each day as essential to you as food and water? Are you "too shy" or "too sensitive" according to others? Do noise and confusion quickly overwhelm you?

Essentially, the book will affirm you, and help you to be at peace with this side of yourself. I hope it helps.

The Great Purge

2007-08-23T21:10:00.000-04:00

For all you bloggers who read my blog (the very few of you), you would be shocked to know that I purged my books. I am a reader and a writer (of sorts) and I'm moving across the large Canadian countryside to beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia. Which poses a problem. I have a lot of books that I've bought over the course of my 8.5 years in University. Some are required textbooks, but a lot of them were the classics. The Austen, Bronte, Tolkien, Bradbury, King, Camus, Freud, Aristotle, Plato, Homer books that have long given me insight and comfort have been whittled down from 2 3-tier book shelves, into 2 shelves, with some space. I cannot afford to ship so many books over several thousand kilometers. So I sucked in my breath, and dived in, making sure that I kept only the books that I have, and will definitely reread. It was a 3-step process. First, putting the books in 4 legal-size boxes, hidden out of sight. Then, for 2 weeks, I hid the books from sight, getting comfortable with the idea that they were no longer going to be around. Finally, I gave away some to people who would read them, I sold what I could at a garage sale, and donated the rest to the public library. It was strangely liberating. It was by far the most difficult thing I had to do, including parting with the barbies of my childhood. But as I sold or gave away certain prized possessions, that I once thought I could never part with, it was strangely easier as I knew that they would be used, that their purpose would be served. Stuffed animals went to little kids, dolls went to children in Third World Countries, and books went to people who treasure the knowledge that will come out of them. While its been tough letting go of ideas that I had for myself, (I've always wanted a room wall-to-wall covered in books) its been so rewarding to have been liberated the weight on my shoulders of more stuff than I really need or use. I'm sure there's more I will need to shed from my life as I cross the country, but I'm not afraid of the process any more. Which is awesome. You can draw any number of faith-based and non-faith-based conclusions from my latest story. But to start, I will leave you with these inspiring words from Joshua:

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous.

The Farseer: Assassin's Apprentice

2007-06-08T13:46:00.000-04:00

Finally, she held up one that was like a silver bit of net with a blue stone caught in it. She made a face over it, then nodded reluctantly. "That man has taste. Whatever else he lacks, he has taste." She held it up to my ear again, and with absolutely no warning, thrust the pin of it through my earlobe.

I yelped and clapped a hand over my ear, but she slapped it away. "Don't be such a baby. It only stings for a minute." There was a sort of clasp that held it behind, and she ruthlessly bent my ear in her fingers to fasten it. "There. That suits him, don't you think, Lacey?"

"Quite." Lacey agreed over her eternal tatting.

Patience dismissed me with a gesture. As I rose to go she said, "Remember this, Fitz. Whether you can Skill or not, whether you wear his name or not, you are Chivalry's son. See that you behave with honor. Now go and get some sleep."

Robin Hobb: The Farseer: Assassin's Apprentice

Surprisingly, I've found Robin Hobb's The Farseer: Assassin's Apprentice better than I ever expected. If you want a detailed explanation as to why, read the last 2 paragraphs of my entry. Otherwise, read on. The book was recommended to me by a dear friend, since the main character shares part of my last name: Fitz. It focuses on a bastard boy of the prince in line to be King, who is trained as an assassin because his lineage will enable him to travel anywhere, while his royal status (or lack thereof) means he is disposable.

First off, I love the mythology of naming of things that Robin Hobb puts into his Book. While its a bit odd to get used to at first, it sets up the many layers that characters take on as they fill out their nominal destinies. Second, as a person who has studied psychology, I find the Forging fascinating. As soon as the ultimatum came out, I knew it would be creative. I don't want to give anything away to those who haven't read it, but I can't help but sit an ponder what happened exactly to the people forged by the raiders.

Having said that, there's one thing I'm not a fan of: while I know it really works to build up the characters, and sets up the story-line through the rest of the series, Assassin's Apprentice has not only a really slow start, but also several slow build ups in the rest of the book. In many ways, I don't care about the central character's build up as much as the other circumstances in the book that aren't actually resolved, or the history of more interesting characters, like Fool. As I haven't finished the series yet, I can only hope that the resolution eventually comes, but for the time being, I have to be satisfied with the action held within. This action didn't let me down. And while there were a few instances where I had to reread certain passages to understand just what Robin Hobb was trying to write, (sometimes purposely elusive while other times just confusing) there were some places where I guessed the secret well in advance. What this reveals to me is that Robin Hobb doesn't take the reader for granted, and I really appreciate that. Nothing spoils writing for me like laying everything out completely for the reader or trying to remind them of things already mentioned. Robin Hobb describes everything in what seems like just enough words, never going so far as to bore the reader with description, but enough to indulge my desire to know what new countries, experiences and people are like.

A reader might wonder why I selected the above passage to talk about the book, rather than the quote on the opening page, sampling the story line for anyone interested. I think its because I've been reading Deuteronomy in my quest to read the Bible cover to cover, one small portion at a time. Its taken me a year and a half to get to this point. But a while ago, I remember reading in Exodus 21: 2-6 that if a Hebrew slave wanted to stay with his master because he loved him, he would have his ear pierced, and was his for life. While this passage didn't exactly mimic the Bible, its imagery cannot escape me, especially if you continue to read on to the end. I don't want to give anything away, but that such love exhibits such pain, it always amazes me. And it reminds me, that whether or not I acknowledge it, whether I behave accordingly or not, I belong to God. His son was pierced for me, I share in that, and I am His Woman.

Lastly I would say, if you're a fan of fantasy and intrigue, I would definitely recommend this book to you. I'd love to see how it continues.

I'm going to finish this review with a confession, stating first and foremost, I am not a fantasy person. For all that I read, and have read, from Harry Potter to Lord of the Rings to the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, I have never actively sought after fantasy books for my reading pleasure. Usually, if I've read any, its because a friend who read at least as much read them recommended them to me, or I was forced to read it in school. In Grade 5 I remember hating Lewis as a book study, though I only have guesses now as to why. In grade 6 I remember loving the Hobbit, but I suspect it was my teacher who made it more engaging to my tastes. I'm inclined to believe it was the style of writing that either appealed or didn't appeal to me. In Grades 7 & 8, my school friend Ellen Begin-Ferguson, who read as voraciously as I did, got me to read several different authors, including some fantasy. I don't remember loving them as much as she did, but I don't remember hating them either. Ironically, I can't even remember the authors or the titles, but I remember more than 1 sun in them. In high school I preferred Shakespeare and historical fiction, some science fiction, even horror. In university my architecture degrees left me little room for reading for pleasure, and aside from my children's lit class, I read only for school, and these consisted of the philosophers like Plato, Freud, or the great texts like the Great Gatsby, or All Quiet on the Western Front. With the heavy weight of these books, I usually fell for Austen or any of the Bronte girls in my lengthy commute to and from work. It was in university I picked up Lord of the Rings on the suggestion of my friend Rachel Liu, and the Harry Potter books based on my mom, a librarian in a K-6 school at the time. Both of these I loved, as you can judge by the fact that I devoured Rowling's first 4 books over the long weekend in August one summer, and that I finished Tolkien's masterpiece in 2 months of work commuting. I also fell in love with the Mists of Avalon, thought I'm not sure why exactly I decided to pick it up.

I think my prejudice towards fantasy as a genre stems from the idea that I've found most people who read them are leaning towards a drastic sense of escape. These books so often speak of the sense of isolation an orphan feels, and the idea that a mythology is discovered to reveal that the main character in fact does have a purpose for their lives. I've always held the prejudice that those involved in reading fantasy wanted to be a part of a world that had nothing to do with what went on around them because for some reason, they weren't happy. Maybe it was a family breaking apart, maybe it was job dissatisfaction, maybe it was simply people didn't treat others properly. I resisted this, somehow believing that my life was not so bad that I needed to escape to a world that made no sense in the context of my own. I walked away from the genre almost as a whole in my mind, preferring horror, British romances, and classic literature to anything fantastic. And the only thing I have to say at this point, is that I am, or was, completely wrong. It now seems a whole lot like a superiority complex. Any time people read (or create), it is either to find out about or escape the world and themselves. Good literature doesn't reside in any particular genre. I have my favorites and the ones I loathe, but I will never again deny the ability of a genre of work to reveal a thought or opinion or idea about the world we have. While it may not be my favorite genre of all time, I will no longer deny that I do not read it (as you can see from the list of books that I read above), and I will no longer deny good fantasy, the respect it deserves.

The Stand

2007-05-16T15:44:00.000-04:00

'You are to go west,' Mother Abagail whispered. 'You are to take no food, no water. You are to go this very day, and in the clothes you stand up in. You are to go on foot. I am in the way of knowing that one of you will not reach your destination, but I don't know which will be the one to fall. I am in the way of knowing that the rest will be taken before this man Flagg, who is not a man at all but a supernatural being. I don't know if it's God's will for you to defeat him. I don't know if it's God's will for you to ever see Boulder again. Those things are not for me to see. But he is in Las Vegas, and you must go there, and it is there that you will make your stand. You will go, and you will not falter, because you will have the Everlasting Arm of the Lord God of Hosts to lean on. Yes. With God's help you will stand.'

Stephen King: The Stand

It's been four and a half years since I read Stephen King's The Stand for the first time, and even longer since I've seen the movie. I can't explain the way this story-line draws me in, but once I start to read this, or even want to read this ridiculously hefty book (1421 pages in my unabridged copy), I have to read it, and keep going. It becomes almost like an obsession for me. It doesn't matter how much it scares me, or how disturbed I get by some of the imagery, I have to keep reading.

I didn't realize how much the Captain Trips section of this book would scare me the second time I went through it. Almost as much as the first time. December 4 years ago, I came back from Rome reading this book. A friend of mine picked it up for me there, and I started it just after the term ended. I finished it by February 2003. I didn't realize how much this book affected me, until SARS began to hold Toronto captive, the city where I was working. I was working at an architecture firm designing hospitals, and we had to make sure we all went through the quarantine procedures if we went on site. I remember sitting on the bus, in transit, when someone would cough, and I couldn't help but think about the line: in a very short time, there would be no more movies at all. In the row behind Larry, a man was coughing. SARS was scary, but even scarier having just read how a single strain of flu could wipe out 99 percent of the world. While it wasn't quite as scary reading it this second time around, I felt the fear rise up. Maybe it's a bit more like panic. All I can say for sure is that Stephen King isn't called the master of horror for nothing. If I might make one recommendation, don't read this at night like I did, if at all possible. Its kept me up wondering about the characters, and what will happen next, even though I already know the story.

Rereading it again, I was struck by different characters. The first time I read it, Stu and Frannie were by far my favorites. I'm not sure why, but they were. I think now it was because they were idealists, and 2 of the first characters you experience. Nick Andros was a close second. This time around, Nick Andros still held my heart, but Larry was my favorite. I think its because he was more... flawed. His character had to work through more, it had to fight against its own nature in order to make something out of it. Larry was the character who was made into a leader by the deadly flu. He started off as a coward, but had to work through it. I think maybe the first time I read this, I was far more of an idealist than I am now. I expected to find the good in people, rather than looked for it. Which doesn't really make sense, since Larry had to find the good in himself.

But now that I think about it, I think that's the reason I don't handle reading this kind of story very well. I've always been interested in psychology and faith. But I've always hated the kinds of stories where good people give into their deepest desires and let themselves go irrevocably. I don't want to believe that it can actually happen. I find it hard to watch, or read (its kind of the same thing the way my imagination works) no matter what. Maybe its because I'm so controlled with my own life, maybe its because in my faith I believe that redemption is available to everyone, that I don't want to believe people can turn towards their own dark interests for good. Maybe that's why I tried to lie to myself, believing Trashy's exclamation of My life for you! was directed ultimately at God rather than Flagg, which I now know was foolish. But still, strangely I suppose, I have hope that good can be found in anyone seeking God's salvation. And rereading the end of Trahy's story, I can't help but wonder anyway.

In any case, the quote above made me wonder a couple of things. I wonder if someone with a faith in God that I trusted said whispered these things to me, and if I felt them stir in my heart, would I be able to go? Its hard to answer. So many of us right now (I'd like to say its only those of us in our 20s, but I'd be wrong) are just waiting for God to say something so distinct to us like that. Something that gives our life purpose; that says we have a very distinct role in the grand scheme of things. Something more than the 9-5 routine that becomes our lives in so many cases. But if God were to say that to us, would we go? Or, would we feel like our routine was so ingrained in our lives that we would be reluctant, and even pass on the opportunity to serve Him? Today I face an extremely mild version of that question. He isn't asking me to confront the Devil's minion or give up my life, but rather to give up the people, the familiarity, the comfort of my own surroundings. He's asking me to trust Him with what, no, who I value most, and leave them for Him to take care of. The timing isn't immediate, but rather a pressing on my heart. And I think I know what my answer will be. It might not be as glamorous an exclamation as Trashy's, but its there. Only if You are there too.

The final question-train that quote makes me think of: how does the faith change for the survivors once their leaders are gone? Who becomes prophet? How does God reveal Himself then? These are not questions I can answer. Maybe not even questions Stephen King can answer either. But maybe, just maybe converted sociologist Glen Bateman could've answered them. He would've at least had some sort of theory.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

2007-04-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

Many a man would have even blazoned such irregularities as I was guilty of; but from the high views that I had set before me, I regarded and hid them with an almost morbid sense of shame. It was thus rather the exacting nature of my aspirations, than any particular degradation in my faults, that made me what I was, and, with even, a deeper trench than in the majority of men, severed in me those provinces of good and ill which divide and compound man's dual nature. In this case, I was driven to reflect deeply and inveterately on that hard law of life which lies at the roof of religion, and is one of the most plentiful springs of distress. Though so profound a double-dealer, I was in no sense a hypocrite; both sides of me were in dead earnest; I was no more myself when I laid aside restraint and plunged in shame, than when I laboured, in the eye of day, at the furtherance of knowledge or the relief of sorrow and suffering.

R.L. Stevenson: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

I'm not sure why I had this original opinion of the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but I always thought it had more to do with schizophrenia or physical illness that resulted in letting loose something dreadful upon the world. Maybe its because of movies such as Mary Reilly or the Looney Tunes parodies. Or maybe I just never viewed the stories correctly. But reading Stevenson's book, I realized just how much it had to do with man's dual nature directly. In reading this, I was truly shocked at how much Dr. Jekyll knew in pursuing his experiments. He rationally realized that he had two irreconcilable halves to him. He had his respected public persona, the doctor of science that pursued medicines to help people; that truly wanted to help the general population. He wanted to be genuinely respected by the public: this desire and his morals were probably what viewed his second self in such a negative light. His second self was viewed with dismay, but he knew it to still be a part of who he was. He didn't want to deny himself entirely, and so proceeded with the dangerous experiment that allowed his second self to surface. Of course, it ends in his own destruction, as do so many stories written about giving ourselves over to our desires.

Like the characters of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I have two distinct views of this story. The first pertains to our view of religion as a set of rules and regulations that tell us we cannot enjoy life. At a certain point, denying yourself leads to a complete setback in your character. Its like some people who diet by denying themselves carbohydrates. They've been good for so long, they decide they've earned a reward, and purchase a box of, say, Triscuits. Before they know it, they've already eaten the entire box in one sitting, and are on their way to buying another one. When it comes to following the rules, we can only do so much under our own will-power, before we want to just give in to the internal desires that scream at us to do whatever it is they're suggesting. The strange thing is, as I'm reading the ending, picturing Mr. Hyde slowly getting stronger and surfacing without any medical aid, I have the distinct impression that I've read something along those lines before. And then it hits me. Romans 7:14-15: We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. We all have this dual nature that seems to battle itself within us. Our spiritual and moral selves that know what we ought to do, while our selfish nature battles to satisfy us here and now. It is a battle that has raged on for as long as mankind has existed.

This leads me to my second view. If we all had the opportunity to become someone else and hide our selfishness from other eyes, would be do it? Or would it end up destroying us? I believe it would destroy us. But I also believe it happens all the time. Gay people will say they were tired of hiding who they really were from others when they come out and tell people their sexual preferences. In Christian settings, people speak about it all the time referring to Sunday morning Christians. These are the people who show up acting all pious on Sunday mornings, participate by doing the appropriate actions in the correct places, then leave church, cut someone off driving, and act like any other person who puts no faith in a God they profess to serve. They believe they can have their cake and eat it too: they can serve their desires during the week, and then give God one morning out of seven.

The thing is, shouldn't this all be about love? If we love God, we'll serve Him. If we trust God, we'll know that denying ourselves now will lead to bigger and better things later. I used to think that we're falling more and more into an instant gratification society, but it seems that its been that way for some time now. Instant gratification is nothing new in this world, it's just taken on more forms than it used to. And in case you're wondering, I'm not condemning anybody of this before I point my fingers at myself. I'm blogging. I'm creating a personal website for a portfolio. And both are instantly available for everyone to read, and respond to instantly. Lord, I only hope and pray I can be more patient, and put more thought into what I do. Because I don't want to be the woman who leads a false life of hypocrisy. I want to lead a true life serving God with all that I am, matching my desires with His.

By the way, though it wasn't written as I expected, and was much shorter than I thought, I really enjoyed the story.

Captain Corelli's Mandolin

2007-04-07T19:40:00.000-04:00

I am not a cynic, but I do know that history is the propaganda of the victors. I know that if we win the war there will be shocking stories of British atrocities, volumes written to show the inevitability and justice of our cause, irrefutable evidence compiled to reveal the conspiracies of Jewish plutocrats, photographs of piles of bones found in mass graves in the suburbs of London. Equally I know that the reverse will be true if the British win. I know that the Duce has made it clear that the Greek campaign was a resounding victory for Italy. But he was not there. He does not know what happened. He does not know that the ultimate truth is that history ought to consist only of the anecdotes of the little people who are caught up in it. He ought to know that the truth is that we were losing badly until the Germans invaded from Bulgaria. He will never acknowledge this because the 'truth' belongs to the victors. But I was there, and I know what was happening in my part of the war. For me that war was an experience that shaped the whole course of my thought, it was the deepest personal shock that I have ever had, the worst and most intimate tragedy of my life. It destroyed my patriotism, it changed my ideals, it made me question the whole notion of duty, and it horrified me and made me sad.

Captain Corelli's Mandolin: Louis de Bernieres

I'd seen the movie version of this book by Louis de Bernieres starring Penelope Cruz, Nicholas Cage and Christian Bale, and laughed like everyone else at the horrid accents portrayed by the main characters. So when my friend Rachel suggested this book to me when we were browsing at Chapters one day, I arched my eyebrows in question, wondering if the text would betray the badly spoken script of the movie. However, as I became engrossed in this book, I found I wasn't disappointed. I've long been interested in the stories from the World Wars. I can't help being drawn to them for some strange reason. I can't get the small and impressive stories out of my mind. So of course I welcomed the opportunity to learn a new historical fiction account of the war so few of us hear about because of the Jewish atrocities.

The novel's storyline is different from what I remember the movie's to be. The book itself is rich in depth. It looks to the individual stories of many colorful characters to deal with the varying ramifications of war. It is much edgier in topic, and less sexy in feel than the movie because it intertwines together layers of themes: ostracizing races and homosexuality; people banding together to fight for what's right despite differing opinions; the way idealists would believe anything just to get through the war itself; Marxism, communism and fascism; unrequited love; childhood innocence; technology; poverty and survival; and romance. The movie itself focuses both the implications and atrocities of war, and on the romance between Pelagia and Captain Corelli, its triumphs, its trials and its implications. Its focus is on the union of two nations set at war. It does this to provide a clearer narrative to the story, giving a slightly more action-packed and romantic version to keep audiences satisfied. This is ironic since Louis de Bernieres deliberately takes his time passing through the storyline specifically to give the impression that Greece was a forgotten war-front, and that so many of the occupiers came to enjoy its space. Despite getting a little frustrated with the lengthy descriptions of spaces and times in the author's narratives, I found this book to be truly enjoyable and very satisfying read. He gives the history a variety of points of view to show that history does truly belong to and consist of the anecdotes of the little people who are caught up in it. It is this coloring of perspectives amidst a general sense that these atrocities should never have happened that I most thoroughly enjoyed. I would recommend this novel to anyone who loves stories about the World Wars, colorful excerpts and anecdotes, and a renewed sense of appreciation for other cultures, whether you liked the movie or not.

As a more personal side note, I have been wondering lately if there were truly anything worth fighting for in this world. It started because I was watching the extended version of the Lord of the Rings DVDs, which has a few sections devoted entirely to Tolkien, and his life. He himself fought in the first World War, and lost many of his friends. Many Tolkien scholars believe that the relationships and battles in the books were formed directly from his war experiences. In the movie, the writers gave Samwise Gamgee the line that there's something good in this world worth fighting for, and the editors overlap war scenes with women and children hiding while being defended against orcs and the like. While I can believe in fighting in war where good battles directly against evil, I find it harder now to know what the good is that we're actually fighting for. So many novels I've read with historically fictional accounts of war stress the futility of the wars themselves. They look at individual accounts who document the battle lines, losing friends, obtaining wounds, and survival. They are bleak, and the only possible way I can deal with them, especially in the Second World War, is by reconciling them with the larger problem of Nazis taking rights and then lives away from second class people, which is completely wrong. In the subsequent wars I get the feeling (without the necessary proof) that we've entered into battle upon battle without having a clearly definable reason to fight, and this led to nothing but embarrassment. I know in my heart that the planes that crashed on 9/11 were a direct act of war. But I don't know that the war in Iraq, or the potential wars on Iran or Korea will be. I then wonder if people in the 1930's ever believed that they would end up in such a state of war. I do know, however, that I will always believe that there is some good in people, and I hope and pray that despite the atrocities of war, it is worth fighting for.

I Saw, I Heard

2007-04-02T16:51:00.000-04:00

Since finishing my thesis, I've been doing a lot of purging, reorganization, etc., and I came across the pile of poetry I'd set aside. I'd journaled for a long time, but I've found my poetry to be a little more personal than even my journal entries, which seems odd to me. I wrote mostly to figure out whatever I was going through, a kind of outlet for whatever my emotions were at the time. And I can usually pinpoint the time I wrote it. Anyway, most of it is the kind of ridiculous stuff girls write as a teenager. This one, is different. It was written mid to late high school, though I can't remember what the inspiration was. And since I'm kind of proud of it, you can read it if you're so inspired.

I Saw, I Heard

I saw the angles pass by your head tonight.
They sighed and smiled
as I watched their soft wings
blow butterfly kisses on your cheeks.

I heard the angels sing tonight,
their voices reaching the ends of the earth.
And though it was barely more than a whisper,
I knew it had touched your soul.

I saw God's hand reach out of heaven.
It was strong and secure
as I watched it touch you lovingly
and rid the stress from upon your shoulders.

I heard God speaking his will just now.
His voice was firm and authoritative
and yet wonderfully simple
in the call for your life.

I saw myself reach out to you.
You looked back at me,
and with longing in your eyes
you looked up to the heavens.

I heard myself say to you,
my voice shaking as I whispered
I love you.
And then you went away.

Shameless Self-Promotion

2007-02-16T15:38:00.000-05:00

Since I've got this blog promoting books, and other reading materials, I thought I would provide a link to my thesis, which was completed and accepted January 31st this year. I've spent 2 years working on it. And below is the abstract to help you know if you want to continue reading the 55,000 word PDF document. Be forewarned, its 260 pages of material, so don't print it unless you really want to.

This thesis responds to the lack of psychiatric and infrastructural support during the transition from inpatient to outpatient care, and proposes a supportive housing model for patient recovery. It establishes an architecture to support a new model for mental health care using the bio-psycho-social perspective outlined in the psychological research section. Research into different methods of treatment, perception, and current patient infrastructure reveal that the existing framework does not suit the needs of patients caught between the secure levels of care in forensic institutions and those recovered enough to sustain themselves. The psychiatric program is based on the bio-psycho-social perspective outlined in the psychology chapter of the thesis, which will be used to treat patients with schizophrenia, mood disorders and anxiety disorders. The architecture is designed to support this perspective, and is based on the research into perception and the architectural strategies needed in the design of a healing environment: community, security and privacy, patient control including spatial intelligibility, haptic and basic orientation, light, sound and positive distraction.

The design is proposed for the Moss Park area in Toronto: where the actual site itself stretches from Dalhousie Street and Queen Street East to Mutual Street and Shuter Street. Its history and current amenities make it an ideal location for a design proposal, though multiple locations are envisioned across the GTA. The design presented in this thesis is envisaged as part of a network of varying care levels: follow-up care, supportive care and comprehensive care. The program for the site will consist of the supportive care programming, which is the middle level of care.

Pride & Prejudice

2007-02-13T16:28:00.000-05:00

Mr. Collins, moreover, adds: "I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia's sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place, should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as a christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing."

I have finally purchased a copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, and with my thesis complete I have read it; well more like devoured it. Its been a while since I've read anything that so engrossed my attention, despite having seen both Bride and Prejudice, and A&E's wonderful television adaptation. I have to say I love it. I simply love the way Jane Austen brings drama into the day-to-day life of the people of her time.

As to the above quote, I find it unbelievably fascinating. It reflects so much the dichotomy of perspectives in faith right now. I cannot fathom how any part of this little sermon he includes in his letter to the Bennet family actually reflects any sense of christian morality. It is my opinion that sin should never be "hushed up". After all, Ecclesiastes 12:14 says "For God will bring every deed into judgement, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil." While I'm not saying we should be proud of our mistakes, we should be able to openly acknowledge them, especially as we repent from them. I don't know that Lydia's character would ever openly repent of her elopement with Wickham, it doesn't seem likely, so what does the family do then? They were married, which should have been done first. I personally don't understand the encouragement of vice quote. I believe that Mr. Collins refers to the idea family members who show immoral behaviour should be cut off from their friends and family so their reputations are not also tarnished. And yet... why should we not encourage people to do the right thing, even after they've made a mistake? I don't believe God would ever give up on us, even when we choose ourselves over Him, and reaped the consequences of our choices. I believe He is ever waiting for our repentance and would openly scoop us up into His arms of love. I'm not saying we won't be held accountable for our choices, but He will still take us in. I suppose it boils down to whether or not one sin can tear us away from Him forever. And if you are like me, in believing that to be impossible, shouldn't we act as Christ would, and welcome the repentant sinner back into our arms?

I don't know if this makes sense, its just been plaguing my mind lately because of oddly similar personal issues. A christian I know is marrying a non-Christian, and suffering for it. I've made my choice in the matter, and I know several others who have made the opposite choice based on their own faith. I guess I just can't help but wonder, as we model Christ in our lives personally, when does our love for others, overcome our sense of right and wrong? Because, though God cannot be with Sin, His love for us led Him to take that on for himself. So, where do we draw the line?

You've Been Tagged

2007-01-19T11:11:00.000-05:00

Consider Yourself Tagged

Got tagged by Margaret Feinberg, so if you're reading this consider yourself tagged:

1. What’s the most fun work you’ve ever done, and why? (two sentences max)

TAing structures to second year students, because they either talk back with 19 year old sarcasm, or are really, really appreciative of any help that you give. Designing Hospitals is pretty great too, especially when you see the final result actually built and helping people.

2. Name one thing you did in the past that you no longer do but wish you did? (one sentence max)

Dancing: I gave it up because I had to choose between it and staying afloat (swimming lessons) and I've regretted it to this day.

3. Name one thing you’ve always wanted to do but keep putting it off? (one sentence max)

Going to Germany, especially Berlin - it seems that's where my heart is without ever stepping foot into the country.

4. What two things would you most like to learn or be better at, and why? (two sentences max)

Writing: I just want to keep trying, whether it amounts to anything or not. Being a better and more outgoing friend.

5. If you could take a class/workshop/apprentice from anyone in the world living or dead, who would it be and what would you hope to learn? (two more sentences, max)

Assuming Jesus isn't an option, Bono. How he manages time, faith and passion for third world countries.

6. What three words might your best friends or family use to describe you?

Stubborn, smart, klutzy.

7. Now list two more words you wish described you…

Giving. Stylish.

8. What are your top three passions? (can be current or past, work, hobbies, or causes– three sentences max)

Photography, Soccer, Worship.

9. Write–and answer–one more question that YOU would ask someone (with answer in three sentences max)

What has God been speaking to your heart? (this is Margaret Feinberg's and I like it so I'm gonna answer it)

How Christians seem to be in denial that we too can suffer from depression and other mental health issues. It can happen, and it does. Just because we think we shouldn't suffer because God should be everything we need, doesn't me we don't still suffer.

My Question: If you knew you were gonna die today, would you be ready (or what would you have left to do)?

Tell everyone I knew that I loved them one last time, just to make sure they knew.

Its been a while...

2006-12-16T20:44:00.000-05:00

To anyone reading this...

Its been a while since I've read anything pertaining to anything other than my thesis, including my own writing. That will all change after January, when I defend my thesis.

Until Then...

Good Monsters

2006-11-05T16:30:00.000-05:00

I have no fear of drowning, its the breathing that's taking all this work
~ Work - Jars of Clay

While this is not a music page, I decided this weekend that I'd had enough of my current music collection and went on a binge, buying 7 CD's, though one is an early Christmas gift for a friend. Included in my purchase was the newest CD by Jars of Clay, entitled Good Monsters.

The CD is an eclectic mix of rock-styled music and mellower tracks, one track featuring Leigh Nash, another an African choir. Several of their songs have already reached my heart, despite the brief time I've had them, and in perusing their website, I have come to understand that they don't want to put the full explanation to their tracks online, just to say its a feeling from a particular moment. I have my own theories behind Good Monsters, despite it being about "figuring out how to reconcile one with the other. It‚’s about finding the good within the monster." I believe they have been deeply influenced by their work with Blood Water Mission in Africa, and some of their songs are a direct response to the issues that have come out of it. Why else would a song such as Light Gives Heat speak so vehemently about the results of aide reaching out to Africa. The whole song reflects the good intentions and often poor results that come out of a willing yet misplaced heart. Perhaps this is the good monster in all of us.

I've always loved the way Jars of Clay has been able to wear their hearts on their sleeve in their music. Whether its been the song Worlds Apart from their debut CD, Shades of Grey from their follow-up album Much Afraid, River Constantine from If I Left the Zoo, I Need You from The Eleventh Hour, or Jealous Kind from Who We Are Instead, Jars of Clay has always left me with a song that spoke directly to my heart and left me feeling as though I must listen to the song over and over again. These songs are not always easy to mean, but I often use them to challenge my own heart as I sing along. On their new album this song is Oh My God, which is about people who "all have their reasons for crying out to God " according to their website. This song lists questions that ask us to questions our complacency and our own hearts. It sets everyone into the same category, we are all seekers of God, whether we intend to or not. More importantly, it challenges us to honestly own up to our thoughts and prayers - sometimes nothing more than flare prayers as my pastor puts it. Its not easy to sing along to, but often we need to go through the painful process of holding a mirror to our souls, and asking God to point us in the right direction.

If you are the type of person who loves Jars of Clay, and desires to have a new way to ask yourself questions, I suggest you buy the CD, or the tracks, and see how you honestly answer the questions they raise. You can get a sample of three tracks from their website. My favorite CD - the album I always go back to currently in my collection - is Who We Are Instead, and I'm not sure if this album will replace that in my CD changer. But what I do know is, so far, I keep coming back to the same track, and crying out along with the band:

Oh My God...

God in the Alley

2006-10-23T16:54:00.000-04:00

When Mutt first began to tell me his story, it was painfully familiar. Still, I had the persistent feeling that it wasn't just the sordid tale of yet another codependent street relationship. Finally, it occurred to me that I hadn't just heard it before, I'd read it - in the Bible. Its' the story of Hosea and Gomer, of course. Hosea was the Hebrew prophet who married a prostitute. Their relationship over many years was wracked by the kind of pain and difficulty you'd expect in a real-life story. There's no hint that they ever got to a point where they lived happily ever after. She betrayed him time after time, and even bore other men's children, but while Hosea let her go for a time, he never abandoned her. Their story became the story of God's incredible and stubborn love for his people.

The paradigm shift accompanying this realization allowed me to see Jesus yet again in the place where I least expected him. And it allowed me to value attitudes in Mutt and Wendy that I would otherwise have seen only as irritating, disappointing, or sad.

Mutt's love for Wendy was soaring, extravagant...and terribly unrealistic. Wendy was always ambivalent about her feelings for Mutt, while he was adamant that she was the "one." Mutt was far from guiltless in all of this. He was as thoroughly messed up as Wendy. He continually ignored the many signs small and great that this relationship was destructive for both of them. He believed his love could overcome her problems as well as his own. Frankly, the transcendence of Mutt's love for Wendy bugged me - and it was a powerful picture of the kind of Jesus love that covers a multitude of sins.

Just writing about Mutt and Wendy's relationship makes it seem more remarkable than it looked at the time. It was all so ordinary, so human, so much like the daily wear and tear that causes me to take my own wife for granted. So much like so many other relationships I've witnessed. And so much like Hosea, who spent forty years chasing his crazy Gomer in and out of impossible situations, loving her, loving her, loving her, with so little in return. It was hard to see, but it was there: the tenacity of God's love for a wandering, unfaithful people. For me.

Hosea's love for Gomer was very human. Her betrayals made him crazy with grief and anger and prompted him to issue extravagant promises of revenge. He'd pout that she "went after her lovers, but me she forgot." And in the next breath he'd "allure her...speak tenderly to her," then he'd runt out and pay her bills, purchase her back from the pimp. All this is a literal description of what happened time after time with Mutt and Wendy. The utter brokenness of it - the conjoining of two lifetimes of dysfunction, codependence, and addiction - the abjectness, the lack of dignity with which Mutt/Hosea loved Wendy/Gomer... How could I see Jesus in this?

How not? All the words of Hosea - abject, angry, whiny, or tender - all are declarations of the Lord, according to the book that bears Hosea's name. Whose love is more transcendent, more truly human, more generously offered out of profound brokenness than that of Jesus?

~ Greg Paul: God in the Alley; 46-48

In a world where self is so often promoted, it seems strange to read such a modern version of Hosea's story. I really recommend the book if you haven't read it. We tell people who are in bad relationships to just get out. We say the words: "This person isn't good for you." Then we roll our eyes at their ignorance; their blindness to the other's faults seems ludicrous. I wonder, would we then roll our eyes at God and his extravagant love for us? Or will we recognize that we are like Wendy/Gomer, continually breaking the heart of one who loves us completely?

I guess, the biggest realization of this, for me, was that love can be painful. And yet, if we are all worth it, then we must show love to everyone else as though they are worth it.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants their eyes opened to the people who live on the street. They are more than a statistic, they have souls, and are worthy of His love too.

Bono in Conversation with Michka Assayas

2006-09-25T10:11:00.000-04:00

You mean you're too busy doing things to understand who you really are.

I will say this: there's a noise that you see on the surface, a kind of certain frenetic hyperactive person doing lots of things, with lots of interests and ideas that I'm chasing. But below that, really, at the very bottom of that, there is . . . peace. I feel, when I'm on my own, a peace that's hard to describe, a peace that passes all understanding. Some people look really calm on the outside and serene, but deep down, they are cauldrons. They're boiling with nervous energy. All my nervous energy's on the outside. On the inside, there is a calm. If I'm left on my own, I'm not panicking to find those different people that you've described. Whoever that person is, that's the closest to who I am.

But does that calm you're describing get close to indifferent sometimes?

No. It has a lot of concern for my friends. It's a very warm feeling. And it's where I go, actually. When things are really upside-down in my life, I do go there. And I'm always restored, and I'm always refreshed. That person is the closest, I suppose, I'm going to find out, to who I am, and what I'd like to be.

How do you find that person? Reading, praying?

Reading, praying, meditating. It might just be walking around. People often say to me: "How do you do all that stuff? You're doing this, you're doing that." I guess that's probably how. It doesn't take me very long to go there. You can call it a Sabbath moment, if you want, because the Sabbath Day was a day of rest. Human beings are not just what they do, but who they are. A lot of my life is about what I'm doing.

Perhaps you don't have much time to be who you really are.

That's why I really do need that seventh day. But I don't necessarily have that Sabbath on the seventh day, or on a Sunday, or on a Saturday, or whatever. I just take it in moments. In those moments, I'm incredibly still, and I'm incredibly myself. [laughs] I can't describe it, but I don't seem to need to describe it when I'm in that moment. Negotiating a route through the world can be difficult for me. But when you take the world out of the picutre and you just leave me on my own, I don't seem to feel the same need to prove myself. In the outside world, it might just be as simple as: I don't like losing. I don't know wasting opportunities. There are so many! I get excited. I don't even mind the obstacle course!...

...

No further comment?

"Be silent and know that I am God." That's a favorite line from the Scriptures. "Shut Up and Let Me Love You" would be the pop song. [laughs] It's really what it means. If ever I needed to hear a comment, it might be that.

Today is a day of celebration, as I finally finished reading Bono in Conversation. Bono's face has greeted me (and my three housemates) for the better part of the last five months as I read for 5-10 minutes every morning while eating breakfast.

I put off reading the book I got for Christmas because I read an somewhat condemning article of Bono and U2 in Relevant Magazine's Ezine, hinting Bono's passion for peace might have led him astray in his faith. I was disappointed in the band after the article, and the last thing I wanted was to be disappointed by one of my favourite artists yet again. However, with grim determination, I picked up this book, and began reading. To my joy and surprise, I found the book reaffirmed my pleasure in the band's music, and challenging spiritually.

Michka Assayas asks Bono some difficult questions about life, faith, and just how on earth he is able to accomplish what he does, while still fronting one of the largest bands in the world. The whole point of having a journalist write the book, was so that Bono could be accountable in the process, to his own ideas and to other people. Throughout the book I found myself wondering just where I measured with this man on a mission. Well, actually, on several missions. I wondered if I would have the heart to challenge convention in front of Popes and Presidents. I wondered if I could travel to war-torn countries to see how faith was being used to spread democracy. I wondered if I was a woman whose still waters ran deep or were only maintained on the surface. And I wondered if I too could have the strength to maintain a family life, while still pressing on to better the world around me, and yet hold on to the faith that gives me strength to do it all.

I think the truest joy I had while reading the book is being confronted with a very real Christian. He is a man with a deep-rooted faith despite the deep apprehension that must come out of growing up in a violent Ireland. Occasionally he has too much too drink and swears. And I found through his words to the kind of humble and questioning soul most thinkers long to come across. And yet, he remains friends socializes with the people he grew up with.

I recommend this book to anyone who wonders where Bono stands in terms of his own faith. For those who are inspired by biographies, it is highly enjoyable, and I prefer it to many others simply because a journalist with a very good philosophical understanding asks the questions Bono must answer. He delves into faith, family, Ireland, the band's music and members, and all the humanitarian efforts he participates in. Mostly, read it if you want to be inspired by someone who wrote music from his heart, and ended up fronting not only one of the biggest bands in history, but also some of the greatest ideas of our time.

I'll leave you with the lyrics of my favourite U2 song Where the Streets Have no Name:

I wanna run, I want to hide
I wanna tear down the walls
That hold me inside.
I wanna reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name.

I wanna feel sunlight on my face.
I see the dust-cloud
Disappear without a trace.
I wanna take shelter
From the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name.

We're still building and burning down love
Burning down love.
And when I go there
I go there with you
(It's all I can do).

The city's a flood, and our love turns to rust.
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust.
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name.

We're still building and burning down love
Burning down love.
And when I go there
I go there with you
(It's all I can do).

Prozac Nation

2006-09-08T10:48:00.000-04:00

I think to myself: I have finally gotten so impossible and unpleasant that they will really have to do something to make me better. And then I realize, they think they are doing all they can and it's not working. They have no idea what a bottomless pit of misery I am. They will have to do more and more and more. They think the psychiatrist ought to be enough, they think making the kind of cursory efforts any parents make when their kid is slipping away will be enough, but they don't know how enormous my need is. They don't know how much I will demand of them before I even think about getting better. They do not know that this is not some practice fire drill meant to prepare them for the real inferno, because the real thing is happening right now. All the bells say: too late. It's much too late and I'm so sure that they are still not listening. They still don't know that they need to do more and more and more, they need to try to get through to me until they haven't slept or eaten or breathed fresh air for days, they need to try until they've died for me. They will have to suffer as I have. And even after they've done that, there will still be more. They will have to rearrange the order of the cosmos, they will have to end the cold war, they will have to act like loving, kind adults who care about each other, they will have to cure hunger in Ethiopia and end the sex-slave trade in Thailand and stop torture in Argentina. They will have to do more than they ever thought they could if they want me to stay alive. They have no idea how much energy and exasperation I am willing to suck out of them until I feel better. I will drain them and drown them until they know how little of me there is left even after I've taken everything they've got to give me because I hate them for not knowing.

~ Elizabeth Wurtzel - Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America

I am currently reading Prozac Nation for my thesis on Supportive Housing for Mental Health Recovery. Reading this book has offered me such an amazing glimpse into the mind of someone who is clinically depressed. I have gone through moments myself when I depression took its toll on me for a few days, like most people. But I have never suffered as Elizabeth Wurtzel has.

This book is poignant, and for better or for worse, I am completely engulfed in reading it. (I'm not done yet - but the more I read, the more quotes I find to help me along with my thesis.) Its taken its toll on me: Every once in a while I must set this book down, and walk away to read, watch or do something silly, because I find myself getting frustrated with her despair and the way the people in her life consistently dance around the issue. If you've ever wondered what it was like to be clinically depressed, Elizabeth Wurtzel has put it into words so eloquently, you cannot help but feel her pain.

I posted the above quote because it inspired me to write several times, mostly about hope and despair, and what can be done when the only hope you have left is to leave the life that causes you so much pain. As a Christian, I believe we can offer hope, but sadly, many Christians don't even want to deal with the real life struggles of depression. I often can only hope and pray to be the kind of friend that just loves someone for who they are, with or without hope. Depression is the kind of thing that affects our very thought patterns, so even when we as Christians, have that unbelievable hope in Christ, some days, we still cannot even imagine that there is hope. These thoughts, knowing we should have hope, but unable to obtain it within ourselves, or in Christ, makes us feel guilty and weak, and furthers depression.

I don't know what else to say in this blog, only that this book has truly shaken me, and I find myself compelled to do just about anything to feel the love of the people who surround me, in much the same way that you read about Elizabeth Wurtzel's life. I find myself questioning patterns of thinking, and wondering why I do the things I do. I hope that's what Elizabeth Wurtzel meant by publishing it.

I'm going to finish by posting some of my own writing which was inspired by this book. Please bare in mind that I'm not in any way and psychologist or psychiatrist. Its full of flaws, and its thoughts are unfinished, but I think it should be out there. For hope.

If the depressed person knows that they do not want to be who they are, that it is a fight just to try to fit in and to be well, that they simply cannot be who they are born to be, what does this mean? It seems a trivial question. It means they are unhappy. It means they feel life to be a lie. I means they are depressed, and feel there is no purpose in life. But what if depression is more than a black hole of despair? What if it points to something we all feel from time to time, but becomes more pronounced because of a lack of nutrition, allergy, or horrible life circumstances? What if we all feel loneliness and questions and self-doubt and lack of purpose and it is a symptom of something else entirely? What if it we all only mask the symptoms with chemicals, drugs, nutrition, adrenaline, and even sex? What then? Where does this come from? Where does the hope come from to get out of the complete downward spiral? Does this mean the only solution is, as the depressed person says, to allow yourself to see how far you can fall, to die physically as well as emotionally, and even spiritually?

Perhaps. But maybe the answer is not to end the physical life, to let go of the limbs that trap the spirit. Maybe the answer is to let go of the spirit that traps the mind and soul and body, to give it back to the creator who made you and say: "I cannot... you do it." For as so many self-help books read, admitting a problem is the first step toward recovery. Giving up on others, then giving up on the self, the only real place left to turn for hope of saving (a myth we all still believe desperately in) is towards a divine and loving creator. This creator says "I love you, I died and rose again for you." This creator says: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness." This is the hope, the solution; that giving up on something that isn't yours to worry about will set you free. The God who loves you, died for you, sets you free in your weakness. He gives it a purpose, which means you have a purpose, and maybe then, real life can begin anew.

Through Painted Deserts

2006-08-01T15:10:00.000-04:00

"Life is a dance toward God, I begin to think. And the dance is not so graceful as we might want. While we glide and swing our practiced sway, God crowds our feet, bumps our toes, and scuffs our shoes. So we learn to dance with the One who made us. And it is a difficult dance to learn, because its steps are foreign... And I think to myself, there is nothing I am missing. I have everything I was supposed to have to experience the magnitude of this story, to dance with God."

~Donald Miller - Through Painted Deserts

This quote is from a book I finished last night entitled Through Painted Deserts, by author Donald Miller. It is an image of God I have been relating to for many years, and have only recently seen put into words so eloquently.

Unlike his other books, Blue Like Jazz and Searching for God Knows What, this book is based solely on Donald Miller's personal journey from Texas to Portland. It is a story about two men taking a roadtrip through the western states, and the sometimes hilarious and poignant moments of life and faith that occur along the way. While not as theologically-based as his other books, it still contains his meandering thoughts on God and ultimately discusses the neverending why questions we sometimes face. Published originally before his other texts, it has been rewritten, likely more for the satisfaction of the author than for anyone else.

This is not a book I would recommend reading if you are itching to make your own personal journey of self-discovery in a new place. I started to read it at a time of serious personal questioning, and had to put it down because I was restless, couldn't leave and was jealous of the journey the author was undertaking. Soon enough I was able to go on a sorely needed vacation and the book became immensely enjoyable, reflecting experiences I myself could finally relate to.

All in all its an incredibly enjoyable read, but perhaps only if you are in the right frame of mind. This is a story about men on a pilgrimage, and while it discusses God in unanswerable, open-ended questions, it never set out to be solely about him. But if you enjoy self-discovery, and reading about someone else's in a way that opens yourself up to epiphanies than this is a great read.

Miss Fitz

Welcome

2006-06-23T10:28:00.000-04:00

Welcome!

Well, I've been wanting to do a book review website for a while, and I think it might be time to start one up now that my thesis is almost over. Boy have I read a ton of books in the last year and a half. Its amazing the topics I've covered that have influenced my thesis on Supportive Housing for Mental Health Recovery. I've really wanted to practice my analytical skills, my reading skills, and I think this will be the best way of encouraging myself in the meantime to do so.

Books I am currently reading include: Bono in Conversation, Health and Design III, Madness and Civilization. So, if you have a book to recommend to me, please let me know!

Sincerely,
Miss Fitz