The Highest Form of Hope...

Persepolis Clips

2008-07-18T15:09:00.003-06:00

Here is a taste of Persepolis. The first clip is the movie trailer (the English version - I prefered the French - Iggy Pop was not very convincing as an Iranian revolutionary!), the second is Satrapi's rendition of Eye of the Tiger - one of my favorite scenes in the movie!

a rainy holiday

2008-07-16T08:34:00.007-06:00

Noah in a happy moment!
Sasha in his glory!
The boys stuck inside yet again!

The past week we were on holiday at my parent's cabin in Shell Lake. The weather was terrible, it rained everyday at some point. I only got one day of tanning in so I'm still as white as ever! The boys had fun - well, I'm not sure about Noah because he's seemed to have hit the terrible twos early. Sasha on the other hand was in his glory! The boat was working and he went for rides or fishing with Paul three times a day. They actually caught quite a few fish... unfortunately Noah wouldn't let me come along. He HATED the boat. Not because he was scared of it or anything, but because he wasn't allowed to drive it! Everyday we try to take him for a ride and everyday I had to haul him (all forty pounds of him) up the hill and back to the cabin while he screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to bite and hit me in his baby rage!

Because of the rain, we watched a lot of movies over the week. A couple were surprisingly good; Death at a Funeral and Persepolis were my favorites. Persepolis was particularly well done - it's an animated film about Iran's recent history as seen through the eyes of the author of the graphic novel by the same name, Marjane Satrapi. The animation is fantastic and the story is deeply moving - a wonderful little movie that you should see if you have the chance. I plan to keep my eyes open for the graphic novel.

Another life-saver for us was the Planet Earth series by BBC. I watched a couple episodes on CBC when they played it a couple years ago. If you haven't seen it yet, you need to go and buy it or borrow it from someone. It was something that we could all enjoy watching together. The cinematography is awesome. There are rarely captured scenes of a fish that only exists in cave waterfalls in two caves in Vietnam, a pride of lions taking down an elephant, great white sharks jumping for seals in slow motion, and a terrifying scene of chimpanzees attacking a rival troupe (if you don't share my irrational fear of chimpanzees, you will after you watch that).

Other than Noah's daily freak outs, it was a good holiday. Sasha cried and cried when it was time to go home. "I wish we could live at the cabin!" he said through sobs and gulps. We have one more week later in August so hopefully the weather cooperates!

Krazy!

2008-07-03T22:07:00.007-06:00

A few pictures from KRAZY! - the show JP and I narrowly missed in Vancouver last month.

What a segue!

It's been a few crazy weeks... a roller coaster of emotions! Highs and lows all over the place. I feel a little exhausted - like I want to hang out in my cool basement and eat LIFE cereal (for which I was FLEECED at the co-op) while watching Last Comic Standing - and yes I was doing just that not five minutes ago!

Where to start? Well the month began on a high note with winning the Biggar Art show. A week later I rushed back to Biggar to hastily take pictures so I could send off an application for a Saskatchewan wide show that would tour the province for TWO YEARS! I haven't heard back about that yet, but I'm just excited to have the opportunity to actually apply! The day after this whirlwind road trip, I had a job interview - and a job offer. But I delayed saying yes to this because I had also applied for my dream job and was on the edge of my seat in anticipation. Then I got the phone call - I HAD AN INTERVIEW!! I had an interview for my dream job aaaaaaand....... I didn't get the job. *Sigh* I won't lied, that was a hard one to take. I took a few long brooding walks over the next few days to work it out of the system. Conversations with good friends certainly helped... plus the always extremely biased opinion of my husband helped too - It's nice to know that someone thinks I'm all that! Things are pretty tight here in the teacher market - a lot of great people competing for a very few number of jobs... Maybe my dream job will come along again someday.

So until then, I took a job in the city at Kelsey in the adult ed program. It's a resource position which means I won't have to do a lot of planning. But it also means I need to know all my grade twelve maths and sciences (better start on my Chemistry ASAP - Thanks for nothing Mr. Robertson). If I had a frowny faced emocon I would use it right now. WORST. TEACHER. EVER.

To end the month off Paul and I made our rounds at Hepburn Grad (which is always a roller coaster experience) and the day after we hosted both a soccer wind up and the Hepburn art club art show (not at the same time of course - we had ten minutes in between events) which was very well attended - and of course I'm so proud of my girls!!

So that was June. No deep thoughts, no art criticism, no epiphanies. I'm enjoying what I'm reading but I have very little to say these days (other than to express my rage in Coldplay foiling my summer vacation plans). I guess my brain is already on vacation, so I'd like to go and join it now. Now let's watch some reality TV...

A Letter I Forgot to Send...

2008-06-24T15:15:00.002-06:00

Dear Coldplay,

You are awesome and I love you!! Your new album is wonderful and I listen to it daily.
However…

Do you realize that you robbed me of a milestone experience that should have happened years ago but I was too busy having babies and getting education and generally being a contributing member to society and now I finally had the opportunity to go to my first real concert of a band I actually love but you decided that Toronto was far more important than Edmonton, Calgary and Winnipeg combined even though I would have been willing to pay at least three times as much as you were charging in the States to even get a brief glimpse of you from behind a pillar in the nose bleed section and drive up to sixteen hours to attend a concert in any of the three locations in western Canada none of which hold any interest for me other than an H & M or an Ikea????????!!!!!!!!!!!

Please send me airfare and free tickets to see you in Toronto. I promise I won’t stalk you.

Sincerely,

A woman who won’t get to see a real concert before she’s thirty

A Long Time Coming...

2008-06-21T21:40:00.003-06:00

A last week Prime Minister Harper issued a formal apology for the treatment of First Nation's children in residential schools, and for the premise of the schools themselves and to commence the work of the commission for truth and reconciliation. I applaud the conservative government's willingness to finally take some proactive steps. Certainly motives are never quite what they seem in politics, but this was a long time coming and I'm glad the conservatives have started this process.

I am saddened that Canadian churches have not taken on much of a role in this commission unlike the part the churches played in Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa. Not that there aren't some wonderful programs run by denominations aimed at forgiveness and restoration out there... I'm just disappointed that we don't often discuss such things from the pulpit, or in religious educational institutions. We don't properly understand how we came to such a point - to the point of fully participating in an institution that was so rotten to the core.

Approximately a third (and many claim up to a half) of children who attended residential schools never returned home and often parents were not informed of their deaths until years later. Residential schools were places of institutional abuse, where children were shamed because of their language and culture and where they were ultimately robbed of the the love and attention that only a family can provide, which is probably the most significant effect of the residential school policy.

Unless we rightly understand the past, it will be impossible to understand our present situation. Hopefully this commission will lead to a greater understanding and from that, a greater sense of responsibility and compassion. I know for myself, Canadian history did not make sense (and did not come to life) until I began to understand the complex and often injustice relationship between Aboriginal people and the newcomers. I'd encourage everyone to follow the progress of this commission and to discuss it with your family, friends and coworkers.

risky

2008-06-09T22:59:00.008-06:00

This weekend I was a risk taker...

My middle name is not "Danger", it's Averill. And I wouldn't consider myself the safest person in the world... but not the riskiest either. I'm more likely to do something fun spontaneously like go to the city for pizza on a whim, but I would never sky-dive. This is my area of riskiness, and this weekend I explored the boundaries of such places.

To start the weekend off (my weekend begins on Thursday night - it's the "pastor's weekend"), I cut my own hair. I had the feeling of too much hair around my face so I cut bangs. It really was a recipe for disaster, but unbelievably it worked out. I looked down into a sink full of hair and thanked my lucky stars I didn't end up with a mullet!

The following evening, I bravely joined some local gentlemen in a game of cards and found myself taking risks (educated risks) - both in showing up to play (outnumbered 10 to 1) and in the actual playing of the game. I'm insanely lucky to have a husband who enjoys my company so much that he would drag me along to a guys night activity (and friends who don't mind me being there either!).

The next day Paul and I traveled to Biggar (crazy I know) for an adjudicated art show I entered earlier this month. This was the first time I exhibited the series I've been working on for the past year and a half (and have been thinking about for three years plus). The show isn't technically finished. I still have one painting left, but adjudication only allows five paintings and my series will eventually have six.

I can't adequately describe the feeling of putting so many hours and thought (and money!) into something for so long and then to come to the point where you share it with the world (or in my case, Biggar SK) and you wait for a response. Was it all for nothing? Will anyone understand? Will they like it? Will it speak? It was almost as if there were nude pictures of myself up on that gallery wall for everyone to see (disturbing, but that's the closest I can come)! So you can imagine I was exceedingly thankful that Paul, C and D (and J!) came out to support me... it meant so much.

These past months have been risky. Knowing I could be pouring myself into something that had no guarantees of "succeeding"... Especially at the end when everything could so easily be cast into doubt. But the response was encouraging - and frightening. Many people came up and asked me about my work and the meaning behind it... and I hope that I pointed them in the right direction, though it soon became evident I should make a few minor changes to these pieces, and to my explanations, before the next show. Two people talked to me with tears about how the paintings had made them think of loved ones they had lost... it was unsettling to realize that these paintings had opened up painful events for those who looked at them. I felt humiliated that I undervalued artwork that had an emotional effect on some that I certainly wasn't prepared for.

It was an intense experience, one that I am unpacking now, as I write... I ended up winning the first prize, and I know that various options are open to me now, I just need to figure out what the next step is. And unbelievably, I already have started sketchbook work on my next series! I hope I can share more about these paintings soon... It would be nice to show them a little closer to home. But if you are interested in seeing them soon, they're up in Biggar until the end of the month.

Thank you so much to everyone who has been willing to walk with me on this journey... you know who you are!

in all

2008-06-08T13:23:00.000-06:00

The deepest indigo menacing fury
First in the south, grows and transforms
The timid pink white into life's blood
Into wavelengths of sound and light
So awestruck

I'll wait against the fence line
Because your beauty has weight presence
And gently demands my waiting
Ask the clouds to burst above
And the Earth to turn and contract

Find me in the open spaces
In my smallness and my neediness
Burrs and grass stuck to my pants
And sucking insects in my hair
So awestruck

Lovely lines and greeting birds
Your lines are living breathing moving
And your form is more real than I
Weight and mass and volume
in all
all in
in all

Romans... ATTACK!!!

2008-06-06T13:02:00.006-06:00

Kids are a great source of creative outlets... Sasha has a bunch of really cool Playmobil toys, both medieval and Roman soldiers. My mother-in-law suggested that I make some sort of apparatus for these soldiers to fight on. I thought that sounded like fun!

I started with a bunch of cardboard pieces taped and layered together. Then I used telephone wire and tape to make a frames for the trees, mountains and the volcano. After that I could mache it. For the mountains I made a paste out of newspaper, water and flour. I just used a hand mixer to break it all up - it was pretty nifty! I could mold all sorts of things with it and it added natural looking texture to the mountains. After that was dry, I painted it - first with house paint and then with acrylic. It was lots of fun - a little time consuming but not that difficult. It's hard to tell who is more excited about these new possibilities, Sasha or Paul!

All in fun, Sasha may have some difficulties in history class in the future. The Romans are attacking soldiers clearly from a medieval era. We've been pretending they're "barbarians". And a pirate has joined the Roman side. Whatever. I'm sure the police will soon be involved to. A surfer stopped on the island for a rest some time ago. The firefighters are also having trouble staying uninvolved while the barbarians light their cannon...

Just another day of historical inaccuracies in the Morgun household!

A conversation I just had...

2008-06-04T13:05:00.002-06:00

Sasha: We need a doctor.
Casey: Yeah, you can be a vegetarian. (to me)
Me: A vegetarian?
Sasha: You're a animal doctor! A vegetarian!

The Man Cold

2008-05-29T22:03:00.004-06:00

How true, how true.

* * * * * *

'Tis the season for great reality TV (such a rare rare thing)... I spent the evening flipping between my two favorite RTV shows So You Think You Can Dance and Last Comic Standing. Actually, they're probably two of the only reality shows I enjoy (and two things I can't do - tell a joke and follow choreography) though I have to say I have some fond memories of watching The Bachelor with a couple former youth...

Painting the Face of Christ

2008-05-22T14:33:00.006-06:00

In 1863 a controversial painting made its debut in Paris. Edward Manet unveiled his masterpiece Olympia. Olympia depicts a female nude, within the context of 1860's Paris, reclining on an unmade bed. But it was not her nudity that created the critical uproar. It was her face. She showed no signs of modesty or shame. She confronted the viewer with a gaze of indifference. She was not an idealized Greek goddess (as were most female nudes of the time), as her name suggests, but a courtesan... The equivalent to a high-end prostitute. If this was not shocking enough, her face was recognizable, perhaps even to some of Manet's critics. Prostitutes were often used as nude models, but never was a portrait done of the actual woman. Her gaze is almost accusing, the look of a woman who feels nothing for those who use her services.

The viewer is confronted with Olympia's true identity. She is a real woman who exists on the fringes of society. And that is what is most offensive about this painting - the brutal acknowledgment of Olympia's humanity.

Portraits are not usually thought of as controversial. Perhaps we are so used to our convenient digital cameras that capturing an image of our loved ones seems commonplace. But it was not always like this. Portraits, both paintings and photographs, used to hold supreme value, and only the wealthy could afford such a luxury (perhaps this is still the case in many areas of the world). In a world that is flooded with images, the image of a person has lost much of its meaning.

Take, for example, tabloids. A certain celebrity's photographs are produced and reproduced and reproduced caught in the most intimate and unexpected moments; swimming on vacation, on a walk in the park with their children, out late partying with friends. After a while we forget that this is an image of an actual human being. She becomes a product rather than a person, an image rather than flesh and blood.

An image can reveal humanity, or it can dehumanize. Whatever the outcome of a photograph or painting or drawing or otherwise, one thing is clear: images, especially images of people, have power.

So what does it mean to produce an image of Christ?

We have a clearly defined template of what type of image can represent Christ... This template is largely taken from images of Greek gods (as are most templates in western art!). In recent years this template has been challenged, but generally we can tell if the image in question is depicting Christ. It would be foolish to believe that this is what Christ actually looked like - most of us would probably agree that it would be impossible to create a "historically accurate" portrait of Jesus of Nazareth.

But yet we still make images of him. He may not be as much of a staple in "high art" as he once was (this could be debatable), but his image has certainly resurfaced numerous times in the products of pop culture and kitsch. Generally, the images of Christ that are seen most often today are in these realms. The image of Jesus is more recognizable in a bobble head doll than in Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus.

So the other day I painted the face of Christ for the first time. I was planning to paint him apart from the well known template... but that is not how it worked out. I planned to paint a simple outlined face in white, but it ended up looking cold and unfeeling. In some traditional images, there is something about his beard and his sad eyes that is undeniably human. Disheveled and road-worn, the image of the suffering servant seemed to outshine the humanity of the people surrounding him - a contrast to the clean, Swedish looking man in all his glory following the resurrection. And in truth, such triumphant images were created to glorify a particular diocese rather than to glorify Christ.

In Silence, a book by Shusaku Endo, the protagonist confronts the clean and beautiful image of Christ in the context of the immense suffering of Japanese Christians. For a moment he confuses his own prison-worn reflection with the face of Christ. The clean and dazzling images of Christ in glory are silent to him, but the face distorted by suffering speaks. The face of Christ is most clear under these circumstances - perhaps because we can connect with his humanity best in such depictions.

The face of Christ is a complicated thing. It is a particular beauty that should subvert commonly held opinions about what is beautiful and what is ugly in this world. The face of Christ can be found in the most beautiful of faces, but more often we see his face lifting up the ugly, the powerless, the weak. It is beauty found in the form of a slave.

It was a profound experience. Painting his face (even drawing his face) was something I've never attempted. I felt it was in another threshold of sacredness that I was just not ready to cross... But now I've crossed it. Realistically I know that this is probably not what he looked like and that this image will probably not be seen by many and will have very little consequence in the grand scheme of things... But it was a valuable step for me - to create an image of Christ that took labor, practice, thought, time, creativity, and faith. It was an image that reconnected me to the sacredness and the beauty of humanity and of Christ himself.

JP and JM together again!

2008-05-19T09:57:00.006-06:00

Last weekend I took a mother's day trip away from my responsibilities as "mother"... It was truly relaxing and it was awesome to catch up with my bestest friend since the very first day of kindergarten, JP.

On Saturday we headed down to the Vancouver Art Gallery and saw two exhibit by film artist Kutlug Ataman. Unfortunately, we were a few days early for a really cool looking show about Anime, but Ataman was well worth the commute. The shows were exploring the communities of Kuba (a dissident Kurdish area of Turkey ) and Orange County, California - you couldn't find two more different communities! Kuba was sobering. It included 60 interviews with 60 individuals discussing everything from family violence and political oppression to Enrique Iglesias (yes, apparently he is an inspirational figure to young Kurds) and pop culture. Paradise, the Orange County exhibit was on the whole, an amusing experience. JP and I laughed ourselves silly at the eccentric characters of the community, including a psychic, an American idol wannabe, a plastic surgeon, and an artist who had a vision of a Native American man come to her in a dream to give her the gift of joy (most people in this series of interviews suffered from major self-awareness issues!). After the gallery, we bussed over to Granville Island and looked at the student exhibits at Emily Carr. I really enjoy looking at student work - one performance art piece featured a girls chewing and sculpting a giant block of bubble gum. It was called "Chew" - makes me want to attend art school (or never chew gum ever again).

On Sunday we had the privilege of attending a wedding of one of our former youths - it was a beautiful wedding. I won't post any pictures of the happy couple, I'm sure they'll have them up on facebook shortly! You can take my word on it that Deanne looked stunning! It was also nice to run into some people from Forrest Grove I hadn't seen in a while. Through one of them I found out that my brother is plnning to fight someone on June 24th... If you know Matt you'll understand why I'm not concerned. All I ask is that he posts pictures of the match on his blog.

On Monday JP had to work, so I wandered scenic Fort Langley. I had an excellent quiche for lunch (bacon and spinach - YUM) and read a book in a coffee shop for most of the afternoon. Then I explored the antiques mall. I don't buy a lot of antiques, but I always enjoy looking at objects people once treasured - what we choose to collect certainly says volumes about our world view! Some of the treasures I found that day were a Diefenbaker cookie jar, photographs of Haida children taken at the turn of the century, some 1940's pinups and a toy I used to play with as a child (specifically, "Outdoor Adventure Skipper")! Crazy!

But of course the highlight of the weekend was hanging out with JP, who, other than Paul, knows me better than anyone. And we have the exact same sense of humor - which is something I dearly miss (who else would understand "my sox" or "ma thighs"?)! Plus, she's an amazing cook - and we generally have the same taste in food which is also awesome... We share an affinity for mangoes, couscous, and pumpkin seeds (not all together of course!). Oh, I miss you already! Come and visit me soon!

Yeah. Come on.

2008-05-17T21:54:00.005-06:00

This is not a joke. This is a real rap video from Hungary... A heartfelt response to the war in Iraq. Now I've shown this to several people, but the only one who really appreciated it was JP, who joined me in laughing so hard our eye makeup was involuntarily removed.

Some of the subtleties of this video by rapper (though he could be more accurately categorized as a artist of the 'spoken word') "Speak" include the lyrics "Tupac, he was the best. Rest in peace. My respect", "Sometimes people make a war, don't know what it's for", and a peppering of rap phrases from the 90's such as "check", "bid-ness" and "come on".

Other artistic intricacies such as a boy dropping dog tags to the ground, Speak walking through a graveyard dressed in a black trench coat, and releasing a pigeon (not a dove, a pigeon) into the air as a conclusion to this anti-war masterpiece, make this a truly memorable youtube video which is sure to entertain for years to come.

So enjoy.

And stop the war.

Peace.

Come on.

Flying Fan

2008-05-07T12:35:00.004-06:00

Attention Coldplay fans!

There is a free listen to a song called "Violet Hill" off their upcoming album (Viva La Vida - coming out June 16th) at www.coldplay.com - I was under the impression that this would be downloadable, but I can't figure it out (if anyone is more computer savey than I - it's very very possible - let me know how to do this). It's different than anything they've made in a while - more rockish (if that is indeed a word, my spell check says it's not) - but I absolutely love it! There's also a song available on itunes for purchase (Viva La Vida).

Check it out.

Plus, I am looking for a candidate to be my first real (taking tickets for POD at Youth Quake doesn't count) concert experience (ever - can you imagine that?). I would say that Coldplay would be in my top three... maybe number one, but it's a tough call. Anyways, I'll be keeping my eyes open for their next tour (PLEASE come to somewhere in western Canada.... PLLLEEEEEASE!!!!!).

* * * * * * * * *

Happy Mothers Day to ME!

I get to go to the wedding of one of our very dear youth in Fort Langley this weekend - Congratulations Deanne! And of course there's the added bonus of hanging out with JP... We're going to go to Vancouver, to the gallery and then we'll check out Emily Carr at Granville Island - how did she know that I would absolutely LOVE that? I'm flying in and out at some weird times (thank you airmiles) so I'm going to be relegated to scenic Fort Langley on Monday. Oh well, I'll make the best of it I suppose... I'll spend the whole day reading a book in a coffee shop and exploring antique stores [poor me!].

A Slice of Morgun Life

2008-04-25T22:50:00.005-06:00

Songs I can't get enough of:

Jigsaw Falling Into Place - Raidohead, In Rainbows
Next Train - Miracle Fortress, Five Roses
Boy With a Coin - Iron and Wine, The Shepherd's Dog
Falling Slowly - Glen Hansard and Marketa Iglova, Once
TV Show - Martha Wainwright, Martha Wainwright

* * * * * *

The coffee table is a piece of furniture I revisit daily. I feel I’m picking up books tossed aside by a beefy nineteen-month-old at least ten times a day. A futile task indeed… and just a small part of the never ending work of a stay-at-home parent. Tonight as I rearranged the books and magazines once more, I stopped to look. It is interesting what our coffee table says about us – each one of us – in the Morgun household.

There is the Hockey News – a staple. Especially considering one comes every week. What do I do with all these Hockey magazines, you ask? Just look in the overstuffed basket beside the couch. Eventually Noah will get to them and put them out of their misery! This was a subscription I bought Paul for Christmas one year. He and I sometimes do the crosswords together (amazing that I can even help in this department!). There’s a Herald or two in this pile – just reminders of the vocation he’s bravely chosen and the pastime that consumes the few hours left in the day.

Then there’s The Donkey’s Christmas Song: Noah’s favorite book, a gift from Auntie Jessica. Noah is a child who has cherished items; his dinosaur toy, his trucks and his Donkey Book. He never gets tired of crawling up on the recliner and settling for a good reread. Sometimes he’s so possessive of it that he won’t even let me hold the book while I’m reading it to him! Steadfast, stubborn, decisive, Noah. I dread the day he’s too big for me to tickle him as the Donkey loudly braes for the baby in the manger.

Under the Hockey News is a large picture book about China. This is Sasha’s department. He’ll probably be a world traveler. He’s fascinated by maps, different foods and cultures. Plus, I enjoy looking through these large picture books with him – I poured over my dad’s National Geographics when I was little. His imagination grows bigger each day, I wonder if the vast expanse of the earth is enough to contain it. He’s consuming all he can about Egypt and Rome, China and Japan. Perhaps he’s inherited the same adventurous spirit as my brother – hopefully he’ll remember to call me when he crosses the border between China and Tibet, or when he’s standing atop the Pyramids.

My black-bound sketchbook lies at an angle. It has many resting places around the house, and as such my children have both “collaborated” in its contents. Not too long ago, my contribution to the coffee table collection would have been a series of textbooks and disorganized notes. It was a loyal study partner during the month of exams. It seems like a long time ago, when my family and I were juggling full-time University and a two year old. It’s funny how sure I was that I’d be less busy by this point in my life!

So many other events have happened around this table. How many mugs of coffee or tea (mostly tea in our household) have rested on this table with or without coasters? How many kids have sat on these couches looking for help, encouragement or just someone to listen to them? How many times have I found friendship sitting here? How many times have I enjoyed being alone sitting here? How many fingerprints have etched the surface of this cheap Superstore special?

Just one piece of put-it-together-yourself furniture, but for one evening it has become a conduit for endless numbers of events and conversations and milestones for me...

I better not do anymore cleaning tonight!

Run Fat Girl, Run!

2008-04-20T19:30:00.005-06:00

As a few of you are already aware, I'm not the most athletically inclined person in the world. I don't know what exactly possessed me to sign up for the twenty-four hour relay for Easter Seals, but I did. Needless to say, there will be more walking than running.

I'm running for "Caleb's Crew". Caleb is a little guy who was on my son's hockey team who suffers from mild cerebral palsy. He's quite the sweetheart - he really enjoys hanging with Noah and his attitude at hockey this year was awesome! He is a one neat little kid. The team is still looking for more walkers/runners for the relay and of course we are also trying to raise money. Our goal is $2500.00. If you want to sponsor me go here to do so (it's a very secure and reputable site).

I know that many of you out there know Caleb and what a wonderful little boy he is... So if you do, consider joining our team! You can email me for details.

Artist Spotlight

2008-04-20T00:08:00.004-06:00

Here's some self promotion if you're up to it... I've recently been highlighted on Terribly Poetic. The first draft of my artist statement is up there along with a couple of pictures of my recent work. If you want to see more feel free to check out My Sketchbook. I just added some better quality pictures from my "Beautiful Distance" series. This title is not completely decided on and I'm definitely open to suggestions. I also don't mind answering questions about this series as my thought process if finally coming to some conclusions. My artist statement will be up there shortly as well, I'm also up for suggestions on that.
Anyways check out Terribly Poetic... As a bonus there's a picture of my new haircut for those of you who were asking. Someone told me I look "dark and brooding". Sweet.

Noah's Innovation

2008-04-17T20:02:00.001-06:00

Noah's had a rough couple of days... He had a nasty bout of the flu and lost a couple pounds (not that you can notice much!). But yesterday in between rounds of diaper changes he saw it proper to outfit his favorite dinosaur with a centurion helmet from Sasha's Playmobil (possibly the best toy ever created). Now the dinosaur simply can't go anywhere without his headgear, which is problematic because the helmet doesn't stay on his head. Constant frustration aside, the Centurion Dinosaur was very cute and a welcome sight after days of barf and... yeah, other gross stuff.

Separation, Part Four

2008-04-15T21:50:00.003-06:00

Near the very center of the stacks is a large, rectangular arrangement of tables. I liked to work there best because I had the room to spread out my drawing paper and my other materials. Sometimes I felt a little overexposed being the center of the room. But few people sat there and the stacks, though always populated, were never busy.

Today seemed to be an exception. As I sipped my now-cold tea before preparing to unload, I glanced around the deserted room. The stacks were oddly empty. This was not unwelcome, especially in the mid-morning. I set down my thermos on the table and my backpack on the chair. I opened my sketchbook and stacked my books one on top of the other. Then I removed my pencils and charcoal from their plaid carrying case. Unconsciously or consciously, I did this slowly. Slowly my mind transitioned from my adventure that morning to the vast amount of work I had to accomplish during the rest of the day.

And I was stuck. I had yet to finish the drawing that remained trapped under the gaze of my mentor in the student-run studio. I didn’t know how to finish it. After this drawing I had yet another to complete the series, but at the same time I was questioning the six other drawings I had already completed. The more I pictured them in my mind, the more flat they became. This was getting more and more frustrating with each passing deadline. I had something to say, but my words had fallen flat.

Even the idea of “saying something” filled me with guilt now and again. It would seem arrogant to assume that my scribbles would have any authority to speak to anyone. Some artists don’t even want their work to speak. They refuse to give titles, or to explain themselves… I wondered often if this was because of laziness or arrogance. But the more I think of it, the more I realize that it is a cry to be known. How wonderful it would be to have someone look at your work and immediately understand it! I suppose one could make a simple idea seem very clear at the first glance, albeit the temptation to use visual cliché or something rudely shocking would be great. But if you wanted to say something more complex, something that might be beyond your grasp of language… then the cry to be known would surely fall on deaf ears. I’ve never experienced that feeling, that somebody “gets” my work just by looking at it. I guess it’s a rather unrealistic, not to mention historically-naive dream.

When art suddenly became solely about “expressing oneself” (which perhaps only truly happened in the minds of the masses), something was lost. Listening and seeing was no longer required, we no longer felt that we were to be taught and shaped by art. We used it as a mirror and saw only ourselves in the canvas. Then eventually we saw nothing. We saw a meaningless and endless sublime, as vast as the sea. There was no beauty left to attract us to it.

When I told my mentor that I wanted my series of drawings to be beautiful, he stopped and took off his glasses. Then he sighed deeply and said, “If you want to make something beautiful, go into Design. Pure art is not overly concerned with beauty.” Since arguing with my mentor was a fruitless venture, I said nothing.

I felt like I was going behind his back, pouring over books on aesthetics looking for inspiration. I should have been able to plumb the depths of my mentor’s experience to help me on my way, but he had disregarded my opinions too many times. By doing so, he made his resources remote to me, so I looked elsewhere.

Books were not the only things I searched. In truth, they were secondary to the scrapbook of images I had collected in my own personal visual database. I looked over my favorite drawings again and again. There is something about a drawing that is far more intimate than a painting or photograph. You can see the artist’s hand moving. You can see her at work; you can clearly see her process. A few years previous, a traveling exhibition of drawings came to the university gallery. Among them was a small sketch by Klee. I stared in awe of the little angel which resembled an unearthly beautiful version of connect the dots. And then I cried, because I felt so close to him. If I were to touch it I would be a mere ninety years away from his hand. I saw his hand. I saw what he did first and last; I saw his process.

The process is beautiful, I concluded. This gave me encouragement too many times to mention. However, the process had not yet fully come to life in my drawings. They remained flat. I remained stuck.

Design Sponge

2008-04-09T15:13:00.002-06:00

Thanks to my sister Amy, I've been introduced to an awesome design website with lots of ideas for interior decorating - it's called DesignSponge. Amy is dictating this post as I write. She wants full credit. So here you are Amy, full credit for the website your friend facebooked you.

Advice for the Self-loathing Fashonista

2008-03-29T20:37:00.005-06:00

Confession time.

I like fashion.

It hurts to say this because I know how trivial and meaningless and harmful the fashion industry is. I know it warps how we see ourselves and it encourages greed, materialism and selfishness. So maybe this post is my way of justifying myself. If you care nothing for fashion, GOOD FOR YOU! I truly envy you.

But I care. I care what I wear. I'm not fussy about brand names or having the latest trend, I just enjoy dressing nice. I like fabric and I enjoy putting different textures and colors together (like decorating a room), seeing what I can come up with. Maybe it stems from being a visual person - I know many creatively inclined people who feel the same way. Trying to divorce my love of colors, fabrics, shapes and so on from materialism and unhealthy body images is a tough task, perhaps impossible. But I'm going to try. So here's my fashion-anti-fashion advice for all you who are racked by garment-inspired guilt.

1. Forget about brand names. You may end up buying brand names sometimes, but it should not be your prime directive. There are plenty of good clothes out there that have unknown names attached to them. Brand names are a status symbol. I say avoid them, especially when they're plastered over your rear end. Not so "Juicy".

2. Shop Thrifty. Secondhand stores are wonderful. Not only are you recycling, you're opting out of supporting an industry that thrives on the idea that new is better. NEW IS NOT ALWAYS BETTER! They certainly don't make clothes like they used to. You probably won't find that perfect pair of jeans at Value Village (I have never found jeans at a thrift store), but they're great places to find coats and jackets (I have a really wonderful collection of old coats), shoes (especially dress shoes), and jewelery (great place to find beads and bracelets).

3. Cheaper is not always the best buy. Cheap clothes are cheap for a reason. Either they used cheap labor or cheaped out on quality. What good is a pair or pants if you can only wear them for four months? This plays perfectly into the fashion industry's scheme - buy more stuff more often. A little extra money gone towards ensuring you're not enslaving some poor soul on the other side of the globe is worth it.

4. Get to know your tailor. Altering clothes that don't fit anymore is a great way to save money and keep clothes that you like longer. It's especially nice in the stage I'm at where I've had kids in past few years and my size has fluctuated. Better yet, learn to sew. I've turned many a thrift store find into something I enjoy wearing by taking it in or hemming it.

5. Just dye. Faded jeans? Dye them! Stained dress? Dye it! Tired of taupe? Dye it! Faded blacks? Dye them! RIT fabric dye is one of the only things I'll venture into Walmart for. It's surprisingly easy and it's actually quite fun.

6. Don't buy fashion magazines. The whole purpose of a fashion magazine is to make you feel bad enough about yourself to go out and spend a bunch or money on clothes you don't need. If you want to stay current look at this column. It's pictures from France of regular people on the street. The French know how to dress and they're usually a couple years ahead of Canada. They're not trendy either, they're classic. It's a great place to find ideas on how to put together a nice outfit.

7. Don't buy so much stuff. We spend a lot of money on being trendy and accumulate a lot of waste doing it. Spend money on things that are classics and will last. Don't be trendy. Be yourself. Don't buy a lot of brightly colored clothes. You won't wear them very long - colors go in and out of fashion all the time. Buy neutrals and then colorful accessories like scarfs and jewelery. Remember, you're rich in this world if you own more than one outfit. The French once again have something to teach us. They usually invest (and I mean invest, they tend to buy higher-end clothes, but just less of them) in a couple of nice outfits and don't mind wearing them a couple days in a row. I once saw an interview of a French socialite on a fashion show. They looked through her closet and it was surprisingly sparse. There were many clothes she had bought years ago, but still wore because they were classics - like a trench coat or a black dress. Compare that to the rich and famous in North America and there's quite a difference!

8. Don't be afraid to borrow. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly have a calender packed with black tie affairs. When you need an outfit, or shoes or whatever for just one day, why not borrow something instead of buying a dress you'll never wear again. Sharing. What a concept.

9. Swap. Speaking of sharing, clothing swaps are great for refreshing your wardrobe without a trip to the store. They basically sustained me through college. About five of us friends got together for some social time and we brought clothes the we didn't need anymore. It's another opportunity to recycle and to help out a friend. You can't go wrong with that.

Easter in Calgary

2008-03-25T20:19:00.003-06:00

For the past three years, our Easter weekends have been a little different than most peoples. There hasn't been any ham (or "ham-loaf" for those of you in PA) and turkey dinners as a family, no Easter egg hunts with the kids (at least not on Easter itself - which might not be such a bad thing)... We've spent the last three years taking the youth on a missions trip to downtown Calgary to serve with a variety of organizations, all of which work with the homeless, the drug addicted, and the destitute.

Easter weekend has worked for us for a variety of reasons. It's a time of year when there is a lack of volunteers so we know that we're needed. It's also a time of year when the youth can get away for the weekend. In a small town it's nearly impossible to compete with sports teams, as most teams need half the high school to participate. Our small town kids are surprisingly busy - almost as over-volunteered as their parents! But that's the way things have to work in a small town. I do miss my family (especially my kids) over Easter, and I miss my church family as well. But there is something profound about serving at such a frenzied pace during the Easter season. It is impossible to forget what Jesus' message is when folding sheets or peeling potatoes or playing with children who do not have the things my children have.

And every year I am ministered to by our youth. If you don't know the youth in Hepburn, you are missing out. I find myself bursting with pride when I talk about them, just like I love to talk about my own children! I can't even describe how proud I felt when I watched them work and work without ever complaining or how they bravely they entered uncomfortable situations or how lovingly they supported each other through the whole experience.

So what did we actually do in Calgary? We slept and had our sessions in a church right in the middle of downtown Calgary. In fact, our youth got to see first hand the lives of prostitutes and drug addicts as all sorts of activities were happening within view of our sleeping quarter windows. During the days we were split up the majority of times - small groups of us would go from agency to agency doing whatever they needed to be done. On the first day, my group worked for an agency called Servants Anonymous. This organization helps house and mentor women who are trying to escape lives of drug addiction and prostitution. We painted the interior of a house that is the first home for these women in their journey off the streets. I was given the opportunity to paint a small mural in the entrance hall. It's an image that came to me in a dream once. (You must be thinking Jessica is CRAZY...) It is a picture of a lush tree full of life, but all around it is in the dead of winter. I guess it's my wish for the women and the children who live in this home, even though everything around them may be dead and cold, that they may be growing and full of life.

After painting most of the day, my group went out on a hot chocolate run. We went around and visited with people and handed out hot chocolate and socks (socks are a valuable commodity on the street). In the evening I took a four hour detour to a downtown clinic (I actually ran into some of the folks I met that day) to get stitches (a kitchen accident) while the rest of the group had a very meaningful session which I was sorry to have missed.

The next day my group headed to the Salvation Army Booth. This is a both a shelter and rental facility. 75% of the residents are employed, but housing is so expensive they can't afford rent. Ryan Smith and two others worked in the kitchen while the rest of us folded and sorted linens donated by a local hotel. Then in the afternoon we held an Easter carnival with inflatables and other fun activities, a hot dog lunch, prizes, and finally candy. Lots of fun! We were wise to save the candy for last... hyper, hyper kids! If that wasn't enough to tire out our youth we took them swimming after supper! Then it was Paul's turn to spend some quality time in the hospital. One of our youth broke his nose and had to get it set. Ouch.

On Sunday we began the day by preparing Easter dinner at The Seed Foothills (a shelter in South Calgary). Two of my crew were exhausted and sick, but they did as much as they could. The rest of us made sandwiches for Monday's bag lunches and then dished out roast beef and potatoes. After that we had our debrief. The kids shared. We cried. We prayed for each other and for the people we had met over the weekend.

So that was our Easter: a collection of simple actions. And even though we missed the church services and the traditions (and ham-loaf) that mark the most important day of the Christian calender, it was a meaningful one. I feel that I am a little old to experience the exciting spiritual highs of our youth. Maybe I'm just a little less sensitive, a little more realistic (or jaded, take your pick)... But this weekend reminded me that it is always in the doing that we find God. It is in simple actions that we draw close to the Divine.

Separation, Part Three

2008-03-18T15:32:00.004-06:00

I wouldn’t consider myself an adventurous person. I enjoy spending time at home, reading or drawing or listening to music. I’m not a world traveler. It’s not that I don’t enjoy being spontaneous, it’s that a moment of spontaneity is always initiated by someone else, but I am happy to go along for the ride. It is a myth that all artists are spontaneous. Perhaps that myth is propagated by the apparent irrationality of pursuing a career in the arts.

My decision to pursue art as a career was less spontaneous and more necessity, as it was born out of the slow death of a failed career in Mathematics. I was groomed into believing that the Sciences and Maths were my only path to a successful and viable future. As a good student, I found everything interesting and did well in every subject, so it seemed that Math would be as good a choice as any. But as I progressed through University, the language of numbers seemed more and more foreign to me with each passing year. After several failed courses, I gave up and took a three year break to find my bearings.

The same curiosity that drove me to find the beauty in imaginary numbers slowly but inevitably led me down a different path. I was deeply depressed over my failure. I was not used to disappointment in this area of life. My brother suggested that I should start drawing again, trying to encourage me to venture out from my leaky basement suite. So I took a class. And then another. The world became new again for me, new like it is to a three year old. I found everything fascinating – I think you might have to to be an artist. You need to be curious to find the patience for art.

And now I found myself standing in front of an open door, not being able to dismiss it. I was a little nervous about ending up in an area of the library where I was not supposed to be or being chastised by a stern security officer. But I could not turn away.

I left the door open behind me. It felt wrong to close it when someone had left it open – perhaps for an important purpose. Three small lithographs hung neatly side by side in wooden frames and there were two empty conference rooms on either side of the hall. The hallway ended with swing door joining to a cramped staircase containing only two flights upwards. At the top of the stairs was a large and heavy wooden door with a small glass plate in the center (the exact center) of the door. Certainly not at eye level, unless you where four feet tall. The door opened easily despite its weight.

I had now completely forgotten about my mentor. My pace slowed from quick-step escape mode to a cautious, explorative gate. I entered a second hall. This area of the building was noticeably fresher than the former hall. The walls were painted bright white, made brighter by clean, large windows to the outside on my left. It overlooked an ill-attended courtyard I had viewed once before through a locked glass door on the ground level. This hall was longer. More locked conference rooms with noticeably new furniture. I could smell the faint scent of wet paint. Perhaps a painter had left the door open.

The hall turned to the right and I found myself face to face with a row of books.

I was in the stacks.

I walked to the end of the row and peered down end, trying to situate myself. To my surprise I was on the opposite side of the library to where I guessed I might emerge. It took a moment to get over the disorientation. At first I wasn’t sure I was in the right building.

Soon familiarity returned. I adjusted my backpack and searched for a table to unburden myself. In the excitement of the detour, its heaviness had slipped my mind.

Reviews for Yous!!!

2008-03-10T21:05:00.005-06:00

More reviews! Hooray! So many movies... so little time!

There Will Be Blood - This movie is about the dehumanizing power of greed. Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day-Lewis), is an oil man in a time where the business was even more brutal and dangerous than it is today. He gradually builds his empire, but at the expense of his son and everyone else who might have cared for him. Daniel Day-Lewis only does about one film every five years, but gets nominated for an Oscar just about every time! And of course he won for his genius of a performance in this movie. I personally thought There Will Be Blood should have won best picture. Another treat in this movie is the haunting soundtrack - Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood composed much of the score.

Juno - The best movie ever about teen pregnancy! (har har) A quirky little film which depicts a most believable teen romance, Juno is a sixteen year old with a highly developed taste in music who gets pregnant and subsequently makes the very difficult choice to carry her baby to term and give him up for adoption to a pair of picture perfect suburban yuppies. Though everything does not work out as planned, Juno is a movie that will make you feel warm inside (despite the references to shooting babies out of cannons at sporting events!). A very accurate portrayal of what it's like being a teenager these days, the dialog sounded like it was straight off the lips of the girls in my small group. A great coming-of-age movie staring a believable teenage girl? I'm all for it!

Once - If you watched the Oscars, you'll remember that this movie won for best song. It's one awesome soundtrack, and it's also a great little movie (and I mean little - it looks like its budget was literally $5000.00). Though the actors are technically much better musicians than actors, this is still a wonderful movie - imagine a musical written by David Gray. Its also nice that the plot doesn't bend to any tired old romantic storylines. And of course, it takes place in Dublin. It will make you want to say all sorts on interesting phrases with an Irish accent! (Rated R for language)

Goya's Ghosts - This movie was a disappointment to me. I was initially excited to see a movie about the life of Goya and perhaps get the story behind his most disturbing works. But alas, the movie wasn't really about Goya. It wasn't really about anything. There were lost of pretty scenes and pretty costumes, but I was never really given the motivation behind the any of the characters actions. The only bonus in this film was creepy Javier Bardem (he may be type-casted as a psychopath for his entire career - I really can't imagine him as anything else after No Country for Old Men).

Happennings of Late

2008-03-09T00:01:00.006-06:00

March is a busy busy time of year around our household. Paul has Youth retreats and we're both going on the Calgary missions trip over Easter. Sasha is finishing up hockey and Paul is in the playoffs. But there's always time for a little fun...

Sasha has been dabbling in his artistic side. He enjoyed painting my untreated canvas this week. It actually looked pretty cool because the the wet canvas made the paint bleed in some interesting patterns. He also found a passion for music this month - the violin in particular. We spent a Sunday afternoon listening to his performances at the Marsolais. Jean-Yves and Sasha even played a duet (I'm guessing not everyone found it as enthralling as I did)!

Noah is happily asserting dominance over Sasha. The other night Sasha came into our bedroom crying, "Noah bit me in the bum!" Sometimes Sasha crawls into Noah's crib to wake him up so they can play. I told Sasha to go back to bed, and not to bother Noah anymore. In the morning while I was dressing Sasha I saw his bum and Noah had indeed bitten him. HARD. He had broken the skin and given Sasha a nasty bruise that still hasn't healed.

Paul is busy with youth and busy planning the Calgary trip. We've got a great group of sponsors going and of course the kids are great to! I'm looking forward to it! I'm also looking forward to hockey being over (I think he is to). It will be nice to have him around more on the weekends - we're simply too far behind on our must-see movie list!

Paul also got a new toy that I am soooo jealous of! But I'll let him explain that one... (I'm sure he will soon)

I'm soldiering on in my fast from make-up. Let me tell you, it was pretty hard going bare-faced for our valentines day date! But it's surprising how much time I'm saving in the morning. With my new short hair and no make-up, I can basically roll out of bed and be ready for the day in 15 minutes (minus getting the kids ready). It's kind of nice!

Another important development in our household: Paul moved my "studio" from a smaller leaky basement bedroom to a larger leakier bedroom! (Ha ha) But it is good to have the space. I'm quickly running out of room. I'm now working on the fifth painting in my series (I honestly can't believe it!). I know I've been asked to explain my paintings on this blog several times, but I really can't until the series is finished; right now it's still an incomplete thought! But I'm so excited... I thought this project would take me three or four years, but things are coming together faster than expected!

Anyway, that's all for now! Enjoy the pictures Grandma and Grandpa - Don't be afraid to comment!