Snap!

This makes me want to keep my long hair, straighten it, ponytail it, and search for that bag day and night until I find it.

Introducing...

A little hint:

another little hint?

That's right! You guessed it! I'm starting my own graphic design business (for real!)! And what's the best part? The name: flâneriedesign ! How funny and awesome is that!?

The first image is the back of my new business card, and here's the front:



(it looks like the writing is too small to appear on screen - it just says my name, designer, email, telephone).

Here's what my invoices will look like:



I just spent a couple (too many to remember) hours making all this. I'm serious about starting this. I'm done with putting my passion on hold. I'm going to be PRO-ACTIVE!

Woohoo! I started putting together all the electronic files I have of past issues of magazines I've worked on, posters i've made, new things i'm making, all kinds of fun stuff! I'm really happy and excited. And thrilled at the fact that when making this stuff, I could just keep going and going and going and going... like the Energizer Bunny!

I've posted the sign for cards at Bummis, so for now the target audience is mainly babies, but hopefully that's going to grow into something awesome. Being creative is so awesome!

Woo-hoo x 2!!

Rarara

Okay, I've put my finger on something that really bugs me, and I'm not sure what to do about it. It's irritation mixed with jealousy towards P's mom. It was prompted by an article in Vanity Fair I was reading during our SC trip. It was Angelina Jolie waxing poetic about motherhood and parenting. I passed the magazine to his mom and she read the article. She didn't really comment on anything except one phrase where Jolie says something like 'when they become teenagers and they start closing the door, don't talk to them, listen. Because there's nothing you could say' and she responds: 'Angelina Jolie knows nothing about parenting if that's what she thinks'. The whole thing struck me because when I read the article and that sentence I thought 'yeah, that's awesome, listen to your child'. I didn't respond anything to her, but the irritation stayed with me.

She has very strong views on what makes a happy marriage, a happy childhood and a happy home, and who am I to judge? She's got all three. I mean, yes, her children are kind of exceptional and they all adore each other, but fuck, she had the luxury to stay home and raise them for a long time, with a husband making enough income to support them. I don't know if she realizes that that is not the case for most people. I don't know if I should feel flattered that she thinks I fit in that kind of profile, or angry that she has mistaken me for fitting in that profile.

I get rattled up whenever she talks about child rearing because although she has raised two well-balanced, successful, kind, loving children, I don't think there's only one way of getting those results. I feel like she's blind to their faults, but I guess all mothers are.

All this came about this weekend because I went to spend two days there with P and to see Eat, Pray, Love with his sister and mom. Her sister's friend was getting married on saturday so it sparked lots of discussion about weddings and how they should or shouldn't be. His sister was disappointed at the lack of traditional aspects in the ceremony.

I know I shouldn't, but I almost feel like telling people who think traditional weddings are the only way to go that they are crazy! There are SO many ways of getting married today. I would rather have a small and sincere wedding than a showy one where you don't feel like yourself, you're surrounded by people you don't really know, and you feel like you need to make a performance out of the whole thing. Today, my ideal wedding would be small enough to fit everyone on one big old wooden table (or two), lots of pictures, and lots of smiles.

I wonder if people hide themselves behind traditional weddings. If you follow the rituals, you avoid having to reveal anything about your personality, playing it safe... is that really the way to start the rest of your life?

Perhaps I'm judging all this too critically. Perhaps I'm letting my alternative views get the best of me. The only thing I hope is that if ever that day comes, I'll be able to compromise.

Another thing that kind of bugged me was her interpretation of Eat, Pray, Love. I think she's got it all wrong, focusing on the relationships (ex-husband, ex-lover, current boyfriend) instead of Liz's journey. What really burns my butt is when she insists on the fact that Liz is an extremely controlling person: I think 'should you really be the person commenting on another's control issues?'.

Rarara!

I know the best thing to do is let it go. And for the most part I can. My only worry is if this relationship with P grows into a long-term, family thing. Will she be invasive? Will I have to have awkward conversations with P about it? Will I be able to stand my ground? Will I be able to build a life different from the one she built with her husband if P is mine?

I know it's too early to think about this, but it seemed like the perfect occasion to do so.. wedding and all.

Think positive. Believe in yourself. Let go.



Love this coat-hanger.

Mad Men

On the plane back from South Carolina I picked up one of those airplane magazines which had a feature on two characters from Mad Men. I've only watched a couple of episodes from the first season, and if I had enough time, I would probably watch more, but all this to say, it gave me a vague idea about who these people were in the magazine -- enough to make me read the article. In the piece there was a pop-out quote, the ones that are in bigger font size outside the actual article. It was a quote from Don Draper saying something like : sometimes when you achieve your goals, you realize you didn't make them high enough. It resonated with me immediately, because I have very modest goals, I'm very cautious, and I don't dream big like some people do. It got me thinking about what my biggest goal would be. Do I want to be rich and famous and get recognized in the streets? No. Do I want to make a breakthrough in some kind of field? Not really? Do I want to have huge design contracts like re-designing the New York City Subway signage? No (because it's already perfect!).

I think I have found what I want to do. I want to design small personal projects for people or small companies. To work independently, or with a small team. And to have another job which is enough to pay the bills but not eat up all my time if it's not related in some way to this goal.

P just installed Indesign on my computer. I'm going crayzay!

How about that?

"Only in the love of those who do not serve a purpose, love begins to unfold."

This sentence hits the mark for me. This idea that your love partner is not someone who fulfills any need in you in one that I read about in Eat, Pray, Love and have put into practice ever since. She said something like 'I don't need Felipe for money, I don't need him for entertainment, I don't need him to travel, I don't need him for making babies (because she didn't want any), etc.' She concluded that the only thing she got out of her relationship with Felipe was companionship and love (but that would be later on). Now, am I crazy? Or doesn't this sound like a better way of going about loving someone?

It's easier to think about it in reversed terms: do I want P to love me because I'm smart? No. Do I want P to love me because I'm interesting? No. Do I want P to love me because I make him dinner? No. Because I pay for things? No. Because of my friends? No. Because I fulfill some kind of need in him? No. Because I make him feel good? No.

Basically all these things can suddenly change without notice, and do i want someone who will stop loving me if enough of these things stop being there? No. I want him to love me for reasons that can't really be expressed. That's how I feel about him. I do love him for reasons similar to the ones listed above, but the overarching thing is that I just do. I think this is were the 'loving someone who does not serve a purpose' is great, because things in life change a lot, needs and purposes included. So I think what ends up mattering is how much integrity each person in the relationship feels while being strongly connected to the other.

I'm not suggesting the old 'you mean like when Woody Allen waved across the park to Mia Farrow' scenario mentioned (with disdain) in Sex and the city, but I'm not sure I see something wrong with two people sharing only parts of themselves (ever changing) for the rest of their lives (ideally).

For example, at the beginning of our relationship, I felt I needed to know all of P's deepest thoughts and insecurities, because that's what intimacy is. Boy, was I wrong -- at that time, it only pushed him away a little bit. But now, I can have all the discussions I want, but I don't really feel the need to. So, if I expect to have a weekly dispensing of thoughts and feelings for the rest of my life, I'll probably be disappointed. P shares those parts with me sometimes. Other times he shares anecdotes, other times he shares other things, so eventually, I'll get to see every side of him, it's just going to take time. And if I want to spend my life with this person, what's the rush!?

I don't understand why we're programmed to want to know everything about someone in the shortest amount of time possible; to cram our noses so close to the window that we can't actually see the person, or much else either.

I'm open to other ideas about this, but right now, this one makes the most sense to me.

I love these pictures.

Clean Sheets

I've been reading this book, The Art of Loving. I like that it's a book that agrees with a lot of things that I think about (for the most part). It has some interesting ideas about human motivations behind love, different kinds of relationships, and the author considers to be the best, or more mature, kind of love. One nice phrase that stands out is :

Love is the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love.

This rings a lot of bells in me. Especially since the time I came across that great quote by Katharine Hepburn (Love has nothing to do with what you're expecting to get, only what you're expecting to give -- which is everything). In keeping with this quote, the author writes: 'love is an action, the practice of human power, which can be practice only in freedom and never as the result of a compulsion."

I appreciate that he recognizes the act of giving as the expression of aliveness. I think our society views giving as 'giving up' something, when it fact, we all know how much better is feel to give than to receive. What are we so afraid of losing? In a sort of indirect way, I was always ambivalent about sharing things with people: friends, ideas, interesting articles, more recently interesting blogs, interesting artists, interesting films. I was afraid other people would like them! Why would I be afraid of connecting with someone on these things? Well, for friends it's clear, I didn't want them to want to be friends with my friends, or my friends to want to be friends with them. Clear case of insecurity. As for interests, I think it's because I wanted to hoard the things I thought were cool, to maybe feel some sense of separation from others, to feel like I knew about something special and they didn't.

Now when I think about it, I don't mind so much sharing ideas and interests. And I think i'm ready to go out of my way to share them with people (ie. follow-up on a 'yeah, i'll send you the link' conversation that happens in the wee hours between me and someone I barely know). Besides, there's too much stuff on the internet for me to know about.

Better to release it into the universe.

(and write certain things on paper... I had a great idea for an article title about archives... forgotten...)

No wait! It was State of the Archive, an article i'm thinking of writing in the future about archives and how they're high tech now (which I have no idea if they are, that'll be resolved in September!) But I like the play on state of the art, and the state of archives.

Yes, saved in the blogosphere. Like so many other thoughts.

Best Birthday, Ever

This year my birthday was low-profile, no muss, no fuss. I made a vague suggestion to P that there were some people I wanted to see, he made an attempt at a rencontre, but since there were so many things happening this weekend (Osheaga, farewell parties, other birthdays, etc) I didn't hold my breath for anything.

But boy, did I get swept off my feet. First, we spent a lovely friday night at our dear friend Arl's going away party. I caught up with Lé, whom I hadn't seen in many weeks, and saw some friends away for the summer. We went home and I went to work the next day. I come home, get dolled up according to his instructions (blue polka-dot 40s style Banana Republic dress to the rescue, with coral sandals), he met me at 6pm and delivered a bag of surprises. A new Strand bag! Mine was looking pretty shabby, so I was very pleased to get this nifty new one. In it P packed a few more items, a teeny box of chocolates, Elizabeth Gilbert's first book Stern Men, a sweet card, and the most incredible gift ever: a Bamboo drawing tablet like this



He said when he saw me having so much fun with his tablet, he thought it would be a good idea for me to have one to jump start my graphic design career. He also said he found an old version of Indesign that my (poor, little, weak) computer could handle.

I'm so excited and motivated! It's awesome. It reminds me of the story his mom told me about how she became a writer. She said: 'I wanted to stay home and raise the children, but I had always been interested in writing. Alain bought me our first computer so that I could write.' And the rest is history (she has almost a million books in print, actually). Anyway, getting this design tool from P kind of boosts my confidence. He said, 'see! now you're a real designer!' which was really sweet.

I think I'm going to contact Moment Factory again soon to see if I could intern there. I want to get my foot in the door of some design studios. I watched a documentary on Annie Leibovitz, that was really motivating too. It reminded me how much I loved Susan Sontag's On Photography so I bought it used right away. That a Barthes' photography book. I remember how it made me feel so connected to creative work.

I want to paint, and photograph, and arrange, and blog, and surf, and look, and bike around. Life is awesome. I want to remove all the pictures from my room, paint my walls a light shade of grey and make an assemblage of pictures in the living room. I also want this lamp.

I should stop wanting material things though... :s

First thing's first

Okay, I'm going to admit straight out that i've been censoring myself on this blog for a while now. Some kind of fear came over me that someone who shouldn't be reading this would be reading it and then all hell would break loose. Tomorrow is a new day, and I will say a few things I've been holding back (i'm waiting until tomorrow because it's late and I have an 8am appointment in the morning).

The internet, glorious and life-sucking internet. I saw this and it made me realise I had to come to my senses.



The internet's always on my side.

Southern Love

The trip to South Carolina was amazing. It was cool to make so many memories in such a short amount of time: loudly whistling with P to songs I had never heard before by Gilbert Bécaud (L'important c'est la rose)in the back of the car at 11 pm, getting lost on a boat with 5 kids under 9 years old in a place called 'Alligator Alley', being ridden around on a sea-doo and giving new meaning to 'hold tight', visiting the a plantation, bouncing in really strong waves with butt scratches to prove it, sweating like i've never sweated before, and spending a 5 hour delay at the Minneapolis airport happy as clams.

This week has been the longest time P and I have ever spent together consecutively. It was great! We are great travelling partners. It was interesting travelling with his family (Mom, Dad and younger sister) in a car, together, crammed, for 20 hours. There isn't too much to say except, their personalities came out pretty vividly. I've always imagined them as a perfect family. Cool-calm-collected at all times. But in this particular case of 6-days together 24/7, I saw some tensions rise and some tempers flare. This was reassuring to me because it made them all a little more human. The examples are too minute to elaborate, but all in all it was an interesting experience of a real family.

I've (almost) never been on road trips with my family, and never for more than couple of hours in the car until our destination. I'm beginning to think that the success of a family depends more on the idea of 'your' family as a whole, rather than the individual parts. That family is more an idea than anything else. Someone in the parenting article I read the other week said something to that effect.

The whole experience of the vacation (seeing P with his family, seeing him interact with little kids) solidified something in me. It didn't evoke specific images of a family with him, but it reaffirmed the presence of a future together. It feels vague, but I know it's there. That's a nice feeling.

A few favourites:

lalalalove

Expectations 2.0

I'm not much of a purse gal, but this one is beautiful!



I've been wanting to craft a lot lately. Wanting to make posters, paint, and reorganize our apartment (we found an old-new couch on the street the other day, and now our living room finally makes sense!). I'm also mildly obsessed with the idea of having a family. Or more precisely, of being young while starting a family. I guess young doesn't mean the same thing it did a couple decades ago.. but I always keep thinking 'before thirty'. I'd like to have my life on track.

As I typed this post I received an email about yesterday's post (see comments) with the link to an NYMag article. As I began reading it I wondered about the situation of parents today. So many of us are used to getting things done fast and conveniently and went it comes to child rearing that leaves us with buying formula, pre-made purées, using disposable diapers, buying toys (or worse, tv shows) to entertain them at an extremely young age, sending them to daycare. Of course I'm being extreme here, but I think there is something to be said for the culture we're growing up in and how it affects our choices vis-a-vis building our family and raising our children.

What if we stopped and lowered our expectations? What if we let go of our egos and tried connecting with our partners and children? instead of plugging them (or ourselves) to the latest gadget? What if we spent time connecting with them quietly (not with the tv on in the background)? What if we spent time with the baking in the kitchen when they're older? What if we gave them more imagination time? What if we weren't afraid of letting them play alone?

Recently I've been interested in what they call elimination communication, which you could think of as an early potty-training where the parent cues into the babies needs to know when they need to pee or poo and can do so in a potty instead of a diaper. This leads to being potty trained earlier, using less diapers, less resources, etc. The main idea is to be so tuned into your baby that you can almost anticipate their needs. This is interesting too, because i'm not sure how much i've been taught (not having been around baby's that much, save my younger brother) to actually listen to the baby's needs and respond to them accordingly. I was raised on the 'let them cry it out' school of thought. But what if we tuned into the fact that parenting is incredibly hard, instead of thinking 'my kids won't be like that', and what if we realize keeping a family together can also be incredibly challenging?

I wonder if we aren't programmed with exceedingly high expectations about these two facets of life.. or if we're programmed to overestimate our abilities to deal with them?

Death by Blogs

Mama-baby blogs are the death of me. They're so dangerous! It makes me all excited about having babies, because there are all kinds of new things (and old-new things) that are so darn cute! and make having babies look fun!

For example, this blog.

I'm going to sign up for yoga classes!

A key!

P left me my very own key to his house today. Keys and personal spaces are not a huge deal for us, I gave him a key a few months ago, but it's still fun!

Long Overdue

Lots of thing have been happening in the last weeks. Lots of ice cream, hanging out with friends, Xavier Dolan's new film, parents arriving, graduating, having fits, laughing them off, working, not working, taking driving courses and reading Elizabeth Gilbert's new book.

I've been coping with all these things relatively well. One strange thing that happened after my graduation supper is me having a total fit on the corner of Prince-Arthur and St-Urbain. It was me going from zero to 500 in a fraction of a second. It was a moment that has probably been building up for years. Me, walking with my mom and P, making a comment on how bratty my half-brother had been during the post-graduation family supper, them responding with 'but he's only twelve' and my reaction exploding out of nowhere. I threw the roses I had received on the ground and yelled 'I hate this kid!' storming of on St-Urbain and not looking behind, but not before I ripped my arm away from P who was trying to calm me down. I wondered if he would come running for me during a split second, but it's better that he didn't. My mom might've gotten lost, and I would have channelled my physical reaction onto him.

Like I said, this didn't happen from one isolated moment and honestly it's too long and complicated to explain here, but to summarize, it's largely about the lack of respect that this spoiled kid shows towards his parents, and the fact that he takes them so much for granted even though he's so lucky to have them both around. This is only the tip of the iceberg, but a few friends have remarked that this anger is probably a transference of anger that I have towards my parents, and not actually anger towards my brother. I'm not sure how I feel about that hypothesis.. since I feel very aware of my emotions towards my dad, and they never manifest themselves so violently.

Either way, I got home. My mom was there. I didn't see P's shoes so I thought for a second maybe he left instead of staying over that night. He had gone to try to find me. I called him, he came back. I hashed out some ideas with my mom and by the time he got back I was feeling better. He made me talk about it a little, but eventually just made me giggle. All in all, i'm somewhat glad the outburst happened.. though I wish it would've happened at another time. Now i'm intrigued by this side of me i've never seen before.

My mom was lovely and awesome to be around, and it was nice to have everybody come together around a happy occasion. It feels fun to have graduated. To be done with that chapter of life. I have a feeling of endless possibility right now, which is nice.

I feel like letting out a big 'ahhhhh'.

The Filmmaker and the Librarian Kiss

The other night after my mom told me about her July operation we chatted for a bit and then hung up. Not 10 minutes later, P calls. I'm busy researching the abnormal cells and as soon as he asks me how I am, I fall silent. Holding back gulps, I tell him the news. He consoles me and says he'll be there later. He calls after work and shows up around 1am. He lightens the mood by talking about our mutual friend who recently got a girlfriend (a first it seems). He mentions something about his 'list'. The new girl isn't quite bilingual, he says, and that was one of the things on his list. I ask him what else is on it, he says: bilingual, sporty, and silly. It seems I fit the profile. We talk and giggle about it some more and then it hits me: oh my god, we're talking, really talking, he's being open, honest and lovely. We talk about love more than we ever have before. He says for him, love is something you have inside of you. It's yours. Your love doesn't necessarily die when a relationship ends because it's yours. Obviously, if a relationship does end, there's a point when you have to move on, and you can because you still have your love, it's not shattered and you're not shattered by this person's absence. This is an interesting theory, and I kind of like it. It sort of flows with the Buddhist stuff I've been reading.

Everything I wanted in the beginning of our relationship is now here, right in front of me. Patience. Wow -- it creates miracles. Letting this happen, I like this.

We spend the next day together - have breakfast at Le Zigoto, walk around looking for garage sales (unsuccessfully), then go home hang out and split for our separate social engagements.

We come back together that night after my dinner/movie and his wrap party. We talk some more, about my lack of tact (my words, not his) and he consoles me some more. It's not the first time he's been there for me, he was really there for me when my grandmother passed away, but it's the first time I felt him really there in the moment as it was happening. It's an incredible feeling.

Our other mutual friend Arl is leaving at the beginning of August. He's moving to Mexico to launch his career. His departure is earlier than we thought.. so their plans to make a film together are going to be put aside, and his absence is something i'll have to get used to sooner than later. He invited us to go visit him when he gets to Mexico. P asks 'you want to go to Mexico someday?' pausing, like he's asking a real question and waiting for a real answer, and I answer 'yeah, of course'. Looking into the future (with someone). Pretty nice.

Vow of silence

Fuck communication. It's nothing but trouble.

New Mantra

"You already are everything you could possibly want to be. You already have everything you could possibly want."

My mom told me she's having some pre-cancerous cells removed in July. This hurts to the core of my being, but she's in good spirits, so I will be too.

Be supportive.

Don't Give Drugs to a Pregnant Woman

Apparently, the use of some drug called Pitocin is extremely common. When mama's contractions (which are normally dictated by the natural hormones of the body) are not "fast" enough for the hospital, they pump this drug through her IV to get things rolling. This causes longer and more intense contractions; very painful. Oh, pain? You don't want to feel that, let's stick a needle in your spine to make everything better. This Epidural slows down labor, so of course, more Pitocin is needed and the contractions brought on by this dose is not felt, because the Epidural has got you so strung out you don't feel anything. All these drugs and amplified contractions can cause problems for your baby, so it has nothing more to do but than to go into distress, ultimately leading to a cesarean.

If hospitals weren't on a schedule, if the medical system wasn't a business. This would not happen.

Tampering with a woman's natural hormones has critical results. The natural release of oxytocin can't happen. The love-high people describe, the one that makes everything worthwhile, the one that bonds the mother and the baby doesn't happen. As one doctor put it: the mother doesn't have the same kind of love for her child, the same level of interest. The way the world is going, can we survive without love?

I just watched an incredibly moving documentary called "The Business of Being Born". After seeing this, and hearing the experiences of women who come to Bummis, I would never want to give birth in a hospital. Watching women have painful, but also somehow serene home births brought me to tears.

The lack of information that is out there is appalling. Absolutely appalling. Considering all the women giving birth everyday, I'm shocked at what kind of hospital procedures are the norm. Of course, sometimes they are necessary, but I think the rate of unecessary interventions should be seriously considered problematic.

More and more i'm becoming interested in the stories of women, less and less about their stories in relation to the men in their life (not completly of course!). I'm becoming fascinated with how they experience the world, how they feel the world, how they think the world.

Why does society hinder our ability to trust our bodies, and to have others trust our bodies? Why should doubt always be pointed in our direction?

I don't understand why people aren't allowed to feel that they already are everything they want to be: able to give life, able to feel love, able to nurture and more.

Happy Birthdays

Wow. Something amazing has happened and I feel proud.

Last night we celebrated P's birthday with a BBQ and some friends at his place. I was responsible for bringing meat and making desert, so I brought Beef/Bison meat for burgers (delicious!) and made a chocolate loaf with a scoop of ice cream and a raspberry coulis for desert. The whole night was great. We blew huge balloons, I made him a pennant, the house felt festive and the vibe was light between everybody. Everything was great until the moment I started handing the prepared desert plates to everybody. P said something about the desert without thinking (he had had several drinks by that point) that I found very hurtful . It wasn't shouted across the room or anything, just loud enough that my ears picked it up and sent me from zero to one hundred on the angry-o-meter. I stuck a candle on his cake, lit it, and plopped his plate in front of him before bolting to the bathroom.

I got in there and I was fuming. I had to breathe in and out for a couple of minutes just to calm down. I felt like he just crapped on all the effort i put into the desert, the concept of the desert, the presentation and everything. I told myself to calm down and not ruin the party for everyone else. So I went back to the group, but I was cold towards P for a good while after that. We went into the living room and talked and played a game. Finally, with enough laughter my anger subsided.

I soon felt snugly and affectionate towards him. Rustling his hair as I passed by, stopping to give him kisses.

After the party when we were cleaning up the kitchen he asked me if I had fun, I replied 'yes... all the time, except the moment when you made me really really mad.' He stopped and looked at em while I explained that his comment really felt like he didn't appreciate what I did. He apologized and apologized and apologized.

What I like about this situation and what I find amazing is that I told him straight away what bothered me, and I didn't sugar coat it. Normally, I would have said things evasively, but this time I was even somewhat crude: 'I felt like you shit all over my effort!' I said. He got the point. I also really like that I didn't cry. Usually I would think about this, sit with it, analyse it, and get myself all worked up, resulting in a tearful confession. I said what I had to say, we talked, and I didn't feel the weight of my anger anymore. It was great to go through all those feelings and emotions and leave them behind.

I do understand though, that this question of sometimes feeling taken for granted is recurring recently. Don't get me wrong. P is always affectionnate, doing sweet things for me, sending me sweet emails, and being patient and caring. There is lots and lots of good. I just see a trend when it comes to social gatherings. Possibly because he feels out of his comfort zone.. who knows.

Lots of balloons!



Currently I'm obsessed with caribbean, calypso and any song with 'coconut' in it. Summer is here!

Baby Mania!

I've got babies on the brain and I don't like it!

(I blame Joanna )