a sense of place

So. went to a crazy party on saturday; three hundred people crammed into three stories of warehouse-art-show-extraordinaire, where there was little breathing space and a myriad of great outfits. in other words, it was incredibly intimidating. it is a well-known fact that i fear social situations, and social situations incorporating art and artists are by far the most terrifying. but i survived with the help of two tiny adorable friends, a lot of whisky, a tall dark and handsome doctor and an occasional squeeze on the bottom from some hyperactive social creature that i'm "not dating". so i survived and actually managed to enjoy myself, if just barely.

and once again i ask myself - why am i here rather than there? there is something about this city that overwhelms me. something about its scale, its social problems, its constant layer of dampness, its grey rain grey concrete grey skies, and the bouts of utter callousness that i encounter from time to time. of course most of these things exist in victoria, and if they don't it is not because victoria is this idyllic land but rather because victoria has different problems relating to a smaller-scale whitewashed capital city.

but there was something so hopeful and exciting about the show on saturday. something about realizing that there truly is this bubbling art community in victoria, that there is a big group of people working together and creating something really great. and this relates to something i miss deeply about victoria-that ability to see its community as a whole, an entity, rather than a bunch of isolated groups scattered across an enormous area. so far i haven't really experienced any of that excitement in vancouver, not because it doesn't exist but because i know so few people, and because i have yet to uncover the exciting creative communities that are there.

but yeah, it is just so nice to go back to that city where i have a real feeling of connection and place. that familiarity that chased me away is also what seems to be keeping a big chunk of my heart there while i simultaneously try to eke out some sort of real existence here. it makes things a little tricky. but i spent five years in victoria making those connections, going to university and growing up. so it's inevitable that i will keep it close to my heart, and its inevitable that my community there will be wider than the one i've managed to scrape together in my three plus months here.

i can't help but wonder what will happen when (if?) i decide to do my master's somewhere other than here (which is likely). will i become even more fractured, with bits of my life in cities across the country? with bite-sized chunks of my beating heart scattered everywhere that there is something or someone that i love? this is the blessing and curse of our generation, it seems: the overwhelming number of choices we have spread out in front of us. how can we ever choose from so many seemingly arbitrary options? how can we balance this freedom to move and change with the need to have a sense of place and community?

fading at the edges

so, i had this dream last night about starting over. quitting everything, dropping everything, starting from scratch. can we ever do that?

i thought maybe that's how it would be when i came home from asia; i would be a 'new person' (pshh...) and i could start a totally new life in a new city as whoever i wished to be. but somehow i seem to be as tangled up in my old victoria life as much as ever. going back in time, even.

and yet... i talked to some friends on the phone the other night and the conversation was full of awkward pauses, silences, spaces. what to say when our lives are so separate? what stories to tell when the stories don't include each other? and a fear has come over me that perhaps all those memories and friendships will go the way of those i made in highschool; that they will slip-slide away to be rekindled briefly and without much hope (though preciously nonetheless) on brief holidays.

but emanuel reminds me that the old folks always say (and the old folks are often weathered and wise) that the friends you make at university are the ones that stick most stubbornly throughout your lives. is this true even when we all go such separate ways? so far it seems true enough; i certainly can't seem to get rid of you guys too easily...

and of course, of course, i would never want to.

c'mon. i didn't mean it.

another little thing that's been on my mind: will we follow in our parents' footsteps and let friendships fade a little at the edges when (if) minivans, mortgages, mommy-ing-daddy-ing take over? will we too become too absorbed in our little life-bubbles to remember how important and healthy friendships are? will we become mundane little family automatons? egad. such a scary thought. i just keep thinking that if i ever have children i would love for all my friends to be a big part of their lives. i would love them to have all these crazy godparents teaching them about derrida and bubble-making and indie-rock and how to fashionably perch underwear upon one's head, and all those important life skills. you know what i'm saying?

ok, well, y'know. i'm guessing this stuff's all pretty far in the future. so i'll drop it for now. but y'all better not ditch me when i have 10 screaming hyperactive and mouth wateringly adorable red-headed children, you fuckers.

up quark down quark red quark blue quark

tried to read 'the elegant universe' last night. holy moly. i think it's time to go back to school, get some training in physics, start again.

i thought the graviton was a ride at playland...and... just... how can we all be made of these little theoretical particles, how can these tiny abstract things make up all the madness of life? it hurts my head.

sigh.

lost without a place to go crazy

such a nice birthday weekend. out dancin' on friday, to bodyworlds (eww) on saturday, made a delicious rebar dinner, watched march of the penguins, and then out to vij's on sunday (oh my goodness, deliciousness). t'was lovely.

and now it's back to real life after all the surreal perfection of the last month. it hit me this morning, crawling out of bed at noon, feeling groggy, useless, aimless, lost. wait! these blues were supposed to be gone! they were supposed to be the 'new to vancouver' blues, not the 'three months and counting' blues.

i am so torn between my need to accomplish something 'important' and my need to have time for myself and for my friends. and so far it's been the accomplishing that's been sacrificed - and it's making me a bit blue. i see so many people around me working on these amazing projects, creating something from nothing, doing fascinating creative stimulating things. and moi? i wander the streets, i write in my journal, i insulate myself from the world around me...

yeah. i feel stagnant. i can't remember the last time i worked on a project, the last time i created something or felt inspired. i know it can be done, and i know it must be done but i'm not sure how to balance my life in that way, and i'm not sure if i'll ever be able to focus on one single thing. my indecision causes me to do nothing rather than everything. my indecision will be my undoing.

so, who's gonna give me the kick in the pants i need?

norman's overwhelming tendency towards mushiness, and other stuff.

hey kids.

so, 2007, eh? well, i'd like to give a shout out to all my peeps near and far who made my year, my new year and my life so far so sweet. word.

but seriously. t'was such a nice new year's eve. a last minute lurch, squeal, turn, and i found myself back in victoria getting drunk on jarrad and kristy's strangely shaped ergonomic scandinaviarama of a chair. just like old times. and i looked around at everybody and i thought, gosh, these people. they're so god damn hot. and also so god damned special. that's right. you guys are god damned special. and don't you forget it. who else would make a dinner of yucca, pears, artichokes and grasshoppers? who else would lick each other's faces incessantly, or wear underwear and lampshades on their heads and then allow photographs to be taken? (well, besides four year olds of course...) who else would indulge my obsession with wearing just the right thing, and then later force me at gunpoint to remove my pants when i became bashful? who else would tell me jolly stories of public vomiting while i had a little vomit of my own in the loo?

so yah, the night proceeded, we made our jolly way to tippi's, we partied apocalyptically, we hid out in the breakfast nook, we all made out with each other at midnight (god you guys are hot), we danced our pants off, wore our sashes like good samaritans, got drunk off our asses (or was that just me?), and stumbled home late into the night. it was as every new year's eve should be.

t'was awesome. i'm still glowing, and still hung over.

and thinking of the year to come. seems like one great big blank slate to me. a little terrifying, actually. i have no plans whatsoever for the future, i have no idea where or why or what i'll be a year from now. but i have fucking hot friends. so, y'know, i got all i need.

(oh yah, and i kicked matt's ass at scrabble. the perfect weekend indeed.)