Happy Holidays from the Pugsley Street Posse

I always want to start off every Christmas letter by exclaiming, "Where the heck did the year go?" and I'm sure you feel the same way. I remember "older people" always telling me that time will go by quickly the older I get, and now here I am, stuck in that time super highway, desperately trying to slow everything down! According to some physics theory, as Brad patiently tries to explain to me, the faster a motion is, the slower time will go. So why does it seem that when I'm rushing from the point A's of life to the point B's of life, I don't have enough time to do what it is that I intend to do? I think he'll have to re-explain that theory to me because it isn't fitting in to this artist's logic of the world. haha But what a deliciously fantastic year it has been; full of creativity, love, and adventure even if it has gone by at lightning speed.

Last winter started off with a lot of excitement, as Brad moved in at the beginning of December 2010, and shared Christmas holidays with Alexander, Sandy the Wonder Dog and I. We all got caught up in the chaos of feasting, jamming to carols, burning down sliding hills in dangerous positions, spending time with families, and kissing under the mistletoe. *blush* We headed down the highway to Brad's stomping grounds on Boxing Day where the Beckman's put on an annual skating party/bonfire. Alexander had his first hand at playing hockey and really enjoyed himself, not coming off the ice until he was literally numb. I on the other hand, didn't attempt to put on my old figure skates and preferred to sit by the fire and meet all of Brad's family, extended family and friends. What a fun crew!

It wasn't long before Brad had to pack his bags though, and headed "South" to Ottawa to attend Algonquin College for Part 1 of his apprentice for plumbing. We were very thankful for technology and the ability to keep in touch daily through Skype.  It made me think a lot about the war time wives and how horrible it must have been to not hear from their better half for excruitatingly long periods to time, if at all, which kept me humble and remembering how lucky we truly are to have the conveniences we have today. We continued to have our nightly reading time with Alexander and got through Book 3 of the Harry Potter series via Skype. It was also quite romantic to send and receive letters back and forth and send care packages to remind Brad of home. He was quite embarrassed, yet thrilled, when I sent him a big bouquet of sunflowers for his birthday and he had to carry them to class before having the opportunity to take them back to his dorm! All of that time apart was not in vain, as Brad got an almost perfect GPA, and even spent time tutoring other students and teaching some of the math classes when it was apparent that he was doing a better job of explaining the theories than the professor! (Oh, he's going to hate that I'm bragging for him. haha)

While he was gone, I was busily preparing for an art show, and spent most of my alone time working in my studio. Unfortunately the show was postponed, but will supposedly run this summer, so I will have an opportunity to re-apply for the show and hopefully show what happens when someone is holed up in a studio for two months!!! haha

Here's a link to my Facebook art page. Enjoy browsing around!

 At the same time, I was also in the process of preparing to direct a community mural program, as artistic director of three groups that painted murals around the theme of "My Red Lake". I was the leader for the teenage group, and we had a blast getting together once a week through the summer months, making a wild mural that focuses on what it's like to be a teenager in a small northern town. If you are ever going by the OPP station, check it out. It is posted on the Treasure House building thanks to the generosity of the Weaver family.  My son also participated in the program and painted a mural about his favourite activities; biking and fishing in the summer, and skiing in the winter. That mural can be seen downtown on the fence beside the pharmacy. I love that our downtown is coming alive with colour and creativity!

 Alexander also spent time in his studio, conjuring up his next award winning Science Fair idea. He won a "scholarship" from the University of Toronto's Young Engineer program and also an Ontario Hydro award for his idea about solar power and how variants in the colour of the light source changes the amount of power given to a controlled object such as a remote controlled vehicle. Where does he come up with this stuff??? I'm curious to see what he's going to design for this year, albeit the older he gets, the less I understand regarding his scientific interests. The important part is that I support him in what he does, and it's also a big time guarantee that I am NOT one of those parents that does their project for their child. haha

Brad and Alexander usually spend the weekends waking up early and scheming on different inventions and designs, theorizing about concepts around time and space and speed and force and all of those things that allow me to sleep in on Sunday mornings. They worked on a trebuchet this summer which is kind of a flingy catapult, and had a working model in the yard. The intent was to make a huge trebuchet on Brad's property out by Vermilion Bay. Eventually, we are going to see pianos and pumpkins flying great distances, so keep your head up if you're in the neighbourhood, and perhaps keep your cat indoors. haha Just kidding, kind of.
It was only fitting that Brad, Alexander and I went to the Leonardo da Vinci exhibit in Winnipeg this fall, so that they could tinker with replicas of his amazing inventions and I had an opportunity to get a closer look at his intricately detailed art work and learn more about the mystery behind the Mona Lisa painting.

                    
Summer came upon us quickly and we busily got to work on the "BoBeckman" farm, making the gardening plot a bit bigger, planting a ton of veggies and working on other landscaping projects. We finished off the rock pathway and Brad built a beautiful gate using birch trees and adding permanent planters at the bottom of the gate so that annual ivy can shimmy up the gate in the summer. My perennials (compliments of the late Leni Sadtler) worked double time this year, and I even had the opportunity to divide and share my plants, twice! Even though it was a hot, dry, fire riddled summer, we were able to use mainly rain water to keep everything lush and productive.  Brad and Alexander have big plans to create some kind of recycled water system with pipes (and God knows what) dug underneath the yard. Next summer we're considering making the garden even bigger, and I still want to have an outdoor tub to lounge in under the stars in the evening. I'll definitely have to invest in some mosquito netting!

We also had an opportunity to go on a super fun vacation after Brad and I pointed to a dot on the map and decided a road trip west would be fun. We did a bit of research but kind of let the wind just take us, with the destination of Saskatoon in mind. The goal was to go to the Saskatoon Ex. The true fun was in the journey there and back though, stopping in every small town along the way, exploring abandoned farmsteads, stopping in an artist community to give a critique of all the paintings at a local gallery (They asked me! It was quite entertaining!), stopping in at a sod house in Elbow, Saskatchewan, enjoying the sand dunes at Great Spirit Lake, coming back to a soaked tent at midnight, meeting a luthier who let us into his home to try out all of his beautifully made instruments and tour his workshop (eventhough he had to clean the house because his girlfriend was coming over), and of course, counting endless cows and hay bales. I love the prairies!

We even had the opportunity to meet up with one of my dearest friends, Steph, and her kids who were heading back to Alberta after being in Red Lake, while we were heading back home. Yet again, because of the power of technology, we were able to communicate via cell phones, meeting up at a greasy spoon on the trans-Canada, somewhere on the border of Saskatchewan and Manitoba for one last hug goodbye until we meet again. This road trip was a great way to break in the new truck we bought at the beginning of the year. I sure missed my big red truck, so we bought a Chevy Silverado and it's giving us the pleasure of tromping through the bush and across the country yet again.

We also spent an excellent  couple of days at the Winnipeg Folk Fest, with the highlight being KD Lang. If you ever get the opportunity to see her live, don't miss out. The ticket price will be worth it. She has a phenomenal stage presence on top of her incredible voice, and she'll have you weeping one minute and on your feet dancing the next. But keep in mind if you're going to the Folk Fest and you don't have intentions of camping, that you should seriously consider booking a hotel room well in advance. We learned that the hard way, after having to spend a creepy night at the Montcalm! I still pucker when I think about that experience! Lesson learned!

Here's a link to the blog about that "interesting" experience.

September came quickly and I was back in the saddle, teaching the awesome students that make my job entertaining on a daily basis. I swear, I learn more from them than they do of me. And nothing makes me more proud than to see them grow into the beautiful, intelligent people that they become in those short four years that I have the opportunity to spend with them. Many graduates swing by for visits and it's awesome to hear about their life journeys. That is one of the perks of living in a small town, I guess, because Red Lake has a way of bringing people back to see what they've left behind. It's not sooooo bad here afterall! :)

Along with our busy jobs, Brad and I also had the task of harvesting everything in our garden and deciding what to do with it. We made many a jar of pickles this year, along with pickled beans, cajun pickled beans, salsa, and canned tomatoes. We have a freezer full of shredding beets, carrots and more tomatoes to get us through the winter. Yum. But all of the canning created a ripple effect as we decided to make a cold room in the basement, which led to adding extra walls, which led to redesigning the whole space downstairs, and finishing the laundry room. Brad has almost completed the drywalling, taping, mudding and sanding of the den (his man cave and music room...haha) and I'll most likely spend the Christmas holidays doing a lot of painting and decorating.

But we are about to have our lives changed again, as Brad has decided to take a job at with KPDSB as one of their maintenace men. We are thrilled that he will have steady hours from 7 to 3 so that we can spend more time together as a family to do all of the crazy, kooky things that make us who we are. Change is good, and that's the way we roll around here!

And on that note, I'm off to spend more time with my kooky family and hope that you have the time to do the same with yours. We hope that your year has been filled with joy and that your future is filled with adventure surrounded by the people you love.

Happy holidays!

Love Rhonda, Brad, Alexander and Sandy the Wonder Dog



Midnight at the Oasis?

You know that dreaded feeling you get when you walk into a gas station bathroom and it’s so filthy that you worry your vulva might disintegrate if it makes contact with the porcelain? And you know the more dreaded feeling of desperation when you know you have to succumb to that horrible idea simply because if you don’t you will most likely spontaneously combust in the nether regions? I think it is subtle control in the gas station industry….the attendants could care less whether the bathrooms are clean or not. They know that you’ll go if you really have to go and they’re tired of cleaning up after you if you’re not even willing to spend a dime there. I picture them thinking, “Go ahead and take a shit. You’re not going to like it. Heh. Heh.” 

Now apply that same feeling of desperation to this scenario; imagine that it is almost 1am and you have been on a manic search for a hotel room in the city for close to an hour during one of the busiest festivals the city hosts. “Sorry, we’re full. Um….do you know there’s a festival this weekend?” is equivalent in hotel front desk lingo to “Are you stupid?” Yes, we had intentions of sleeping in our tent which was already set up and ready to go, but it started to rain and we just got lazy I guess, and decided we didn’t want to be tough Canadians after all. We were succumbing to the notion of comfort. That was a very, very bad mistake. 

When we drove past the Montcalm, we cut our losses, reasoned that it was only for a night, and took the room. The thought of sitting naked on that bed sheet still makes my butt pucker. I just couldn’t do it. We should have known something was fishy when we were given room number “zero”. Yes, that is right. Our door actually said “Room # 0”. It was beautifully printed onto white paper and scotch taped to the door. What does room zero mean?! Does it mean that as soon as the door opens you’re going to enter zero gravity? No, we quickly realized that the zero means zero maintenance to the room and absolutely zero cleaning duties. 

You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of dirt in my days. I’ve worked some pretty crazy jobs, and ironically, my first job was working for a restaurant picking garbage in the parking lot. And I was a waitress in my university days and there’s nothing greasier than dealing with slippery plates all day. Plus, that was back in the days when everyone was allowed to smoke in restaurants, so not only was it dirty, it was stinky too. I can go on about a plethora of different experiences with dirt, but man, room zero was just downright gross. The toilet rim was indescribable. (Poop is supposed to descend vertically from the body, is it not?) Why was there a partially used bar of soap in the grayish, brownish, tannish, yellowish bathtub. Where were the bath towels? Did we want to use them even if they had any? Brad found a Winnipeg Sun in the dresser that was dated March 18^th, 2011. We figure that was the last time the room was cleaned. 

 And at the same time that I was appalled that we actually paid to sleep in filth, I was also appalled that I was being such a wuss about it. Am I that OCD about dirt that I can’t handle a bit of goo? I have slept on dirt in the bushes. I actually slept in a horse shoe pit in a camp ground once. I woke up with a lot of sand in my mouth and for some reason that was ok with me. And I have been puked on, pooped on, peed on. I’m a mom. It happens a lot. And I’ve also been to a lot of crazy parties where that also happens a lot.  And then there are the times that I’ve walked through the bush and picked up the occasional moose turd. I marvel in the fact that I am holding something that came out of the rectum of a large hairy mammal. For some reason, that seems ok to me. Moose poop is all natural. It has fluctuated between being washed in the rain and baked by the sun and in my mind that seems clean. 

So why was I being such a freak about this place? We were both being freaks about the place. Brad and I polished off a full bottle of wine, swig style, in a matter of minutes to try and deaden the anxiety of sleeping, hover-style, over the bed sheets. Usually in a hotel room, I take the bed spread off immediately, because I’ve seen too many CSI shows that use black lights to emphasize “stains”. But in this case, I wasn’t too sure which layer to peel off and sleep on. I longed for the soggy tent and was creeped out completely. I started making assumptions about what happened in that room to earn this status in my mind. After all, the bar downstairs is called “Lipstixx” with the token XXX. They advertise that the dancers start at noon on both Thursdays and Fridays and even give “shower shows”. I wondered if their shower floors were any cleaner than room zero’s was and then thought perhaps that is what the shower shows actually were….hotel room tenants simply trying to get clean after spending a night in room creepy. 

I also made the assumption, based on solid evidence, that they don’t even clean the rooms because the option of putting a “do not disturb” sign in the door slot was not even available. There wasn’t the distant din of vacuums and chattering that usually accompanies waking up in a hotel so there weren’t any cleaning ladies disturbing anyone that day. Again, just like the gas stations, the owners of the Montcalm monopolized on our desperation on a Friday of a festival in Winnipeg and didn’t care how grimy the experience was going to be for anyone. If you want it, you want it….if you don’t, you don’t. At least we got a key for our room. When the man standing in front of Brad at the lobby desk told the clerk, “My key to my room isn’t working,” the clerk simply said, “Oh, just tell me when you want to be let in and out of your room.” So, it’s going to be like this, is it? We are at your mercy.

I have had other equivalent experiences with creepy rooms. Once in Lake Linden, Michigan, I discovered that there wasn’t a phone in my room. When I inquired at the front desk, the eight thousand year old lady in the sailor suit and pig tails said to me, “Oh, we didn’t get into that”. You didn’t get into phones?!!! Where the fuck am I? Once on a family trip, I refused to sleep on my bed because it was clearly apparent that someone had been murdered on it, as could be seen by the splattering of blood across the sides of the mattress. At a hotel in Edmonton, I took a dip in a pool, and assumed I was blind when I opened my eyes underwater and couldn’t see the bottom of the pool. It was only 4 feet deep. Perhaps that is why I always steal the toilet paper from hotel rooms. I need to walk away from these experiences feeling like I haven’t been completely annihilated by the big guy and if it means being passive aggressive with toilet paper, that’s what I’ll do.There wasn't any extra toilet paper to steal in room zero at the Montcalm. We were lucky to even get any. 

Lesson learned. Lesson learned. Lesson learned. 1) Take your own towels with you anywhere you go. 2) Bring a garbage bag to sleep on so that anything that could potentially crawl on you will simply slide off. 3) Bring two bottles of wine not just one. Oh yeah, and 4) book ahead. That one’s pretty important, supposedly. 

Beating Wings

A rural yard sighed under the sharp heat of a mid-morning eastern sun. Berries held on to any moisture that still resided under their skin, waiting to be plucked. Rocks basked under the fiery glow, happy to shake off another cold, damp starry night. Daylilies welcomed the sunshine with an abrupt shot of yellow; violently greeting the skies with pure, primary colour. And a finch struggled, frantically entangled in a dried shrub that had escaped through the cracks of a weathered pallet that was abandoned along the side of the yard.  

Her little legs were trapped by a frayed piece of tarp that had let go after being beaten and abused by the elements for so long. This gnarled piece of blue string only traveled as far as this beautiful bird’s delicate legs before it decided to rest. This bird was probably being adventurous, looking under the nooks and crannies in that area. It’s dark and cool underneath that tarp; probably laden with an overabundance of bugs….a bird utopia. She perhaps didn’t even notice the ugliness that was wrapping around her body, she was so enthralled with the hunt, so self absorbed and oblivious to the dangers. Then she had her fill and it was time to share her findings with others, tell the world of her riches without actually sharing the specifics. She started on her way but was violently snapped back. She tried again, pushing her wings a bit harder now, to no avail. The blue string was weaved through the dried branches like an inexperienced child’s attempt at playing cat in the cradle. Panic set in. She could see underneath her that life was continuing to move. There goes a bug that I missed, she thought. Oh, how I would love to have that little bug in my mouth right now, juicy and delectable and all mine. Above her she could see that the skies moved freely, clouds flicking in the light breeze without a thought to her plight. Nobody cared about her quandary.  Her wings were moving as quickly as her heartbeat now, fervently.  Exhausted, she sat, resigning her will to the snare that embraced her. The sun was sitting heavy on her now and it wouldn’t be long before predators would come by, the scent of fear permeating the air. The first thing they would do would peck her eyes out, so she was blinded to the pain that await her. 

And as quickly as these dreadful thoughts inundated her mind she was flying. Her wings bruised from beating the dry, brittle branches, her heart palpitating with fear and confusion, she moved in swift undulations with the slight breeze of freedom. She perched in a nearby tree, the blue stringed reminder still dangling delicately from her leg, to safely observe and clarify in her mind the situation that she had somehow magically and narrowly escaped. But all she could see was a large, silhouetted figure quickly dragging a tarp into a garbage pile, a pallet being lifted, a weed being pulled, and life resuming without a second thought to the her predicament….

Happy Holidays from the Pugsley Street Posse at the Milk Carton!

As I write this, the furnace has kicked in for the umpteenth time, chronically reminding me that it’s winter, and it’s here with a vengeance. *sigh* You’d think after 38 years of living in the North that I’d just accept the cold, but it still shocks me every year. Perhaps I need to start booking warm vacations during the Christmas holidays as bit of a reprieve from this insanity. We’ll see in next year’s letter whether I follow through with that or not!

But on to the highlights of this year, starting with a nod to my cultural roots; around Easter time, I took a fantastic workshop on how to make pysanky, or Ukrainian Easter eggs.  Wow. Talk about process! I don’t know how people take the time to make the multicoloured, intricately designed masterpieces that they do, because it literally took me all day to design two very simple eggs. And if you’ve seen my thumbs, then you know that it is not even a simple task to HOLD an Easter egg, let alone decorate one. So, I chalked this one up to experience, gave recognition to all of my Ukrainian forefathers and mothers that would have spent many hours on those little suckers, and moved on to other art forms. 

The next art form came in the way of a tattoo. I had been playing with the idea of getting a family tree tattooed on my arm for a while, and started muddling with the design over the course of the spring. Thanks to the power and efficiency of Facebook, I was able to post my rough draft sketches and get a lot of positive, constructive feedback from friends.  The design started off pretty “typical” but then I sat through a grad ceremony with a Sharpie marker and paper and doodled up the second design that you can see here. I liked it so much that I went back to the drafting table and decided to merge the two concepts together in to the final design. Eight hours, one pizza and lots of pain later, I had a completed tattoo, done by Mike Magee at Underground Ink in Thunder Bay. I highly recommend his service if you’re ever considering getting any work done even if my Auntie Mary thinks I’m a “stupid ass” for getting it done. haha! I love having my family tree on my arm. They’re always with me. 

My next big artistic endeavor was the completion of a 12x16 foot mural painted on the side of the Lakeview Restaurant here in Red Lake. It took just over 61 hours to complete, done over a span of three months…darn rain! A few years back, I re-designed the cover of the menu for the Lakeview, and the owners of the Lakeview, Pearl and Grace Fleming, decided it was high time that the imagery also blasted full throttle across the side of the building. What a fantastic way to pass the summer hours, with many visitors to the scaffolding, and “interesting”, perpetual commentary from the passer-byers. I got pretty good at keeping my headphones on after a while. ;) This project has also stimulated another mural project that is hopefully taking place the summer of 2011, with the idea of being the artistic director of the program, working with a variety of age groups, and painting four murals that will display Red Lake’s identity and diversity. 

 I also spent a substantial amount of time preparing for the Trout Forest Music Festival this year, determined to have an art booth during the festival. Unfortunately, the weather was dismal practically the whole weekend, with the rain and wind escalating over that time. I was forced to pack up all of my art work and forfeit the opportunity to sell and simply enjoy the festival at all, actually. (Fortunately for me, Facebook is a fantastic market for my art work, and most of my work has sold since then.)  But I did have the awesome opportunity to get my hands on some face paint, and paint a very pregnant woman’s belly!!! Maybe her daughter will grow up to be an artist from the experience in utero?

Luckily, I had a great feast of music earlier in the summer, taking my bestie Deanna to the Winnipeg Folk Fest for her first time. It’s pretty magical to introduce someone to a new experience, and we had a great time dancing in the mosh pits, eating delicious food and meeting a plethora of interesting people while listening to awesome music in the grass and the heat.  I was even able to hang out with my little man Alexander, who was at the festival with his dad. In a few years, I am sure I’ll be getting back stage passes to festivals across Canada, as either a groupie or manager of my son’s musical career.  

Deanna and I also packed up our young ‘uns and took them to the city for their first experience at the University of Manitoba’s “mini camp” where they were given the opportunity to take a focus program for a week. Alexander signed up for a physics camp, and enjoyed the experience, but preferred the Science North program that was hosted here in Red Lake the following week.  But as parents, Deanna and I both felt it was good for our kids to have the opportunity to see what university life was like, moving from faculty building to faculty building, and even staying in residence for the week. While there, Alexander was given the opportunity to brag about getting first place standing at the local science fair, and second place standing at the regional science fair for his study on bottle rockets. We had a heck of a lot of fun blowing up the neighbourhood with our air compressor and pop bottles for a good week. Alexander still likes to entertain his friends with this experiment on any given day. He’s even introduced food colouring to the experimenting so we have a rainbow of colours spraying my car and house. All in the name of science! As long as there aren’t any matches involved, it’s all good.  I am petrified what is going to happen this summer, since my boyfriend, Brad, and Alexander have big plans to create monstrous things that catapult and fling and do all sorts of questionable things. I’ve overheard them saying things like, “We’ll have to go way out in the bush to make that one because it might do some damage in the neighbourhood.” Oh oh. I’ll keep you posted.

And that brings me to introducing you to my wonderful boyfriend, Brad, a fantastic man who moved to Red Lake from Vermilion Bay just over a year ago to take up a new career at Red Lake Plumbing and Heating and swept me off my feet in the process. Actually, it was a long process, because he tried to sweep me off my feet about a year ago and we ended up getting into an argument instead and didn’t speak to each other for a while! Fortunately, Brad is a tenacious man, and obviously isn’t afraid of a stubborn woman *ahem*, because he was able to woo me with is charm, good looks and great cooking and is now a permanent resident at the “milk carton” here on Pugsley Street. Alexander and I love sharing our life with him and Sandy’s kinda getting used to the idea. Haha!  We’re in the process of transforming the basement into a music jamming room and looking forward to filling our lives with music, fun and happiness.  Life is good and we’re all reveling in it. 

Brad and I even had the opportunity to “work” together this fall, both being involved in the local theatre group. Brad was highly involved in the arts back in Dryden, where as I’d been on hiatus for the past 10 years or so! I was going to slowly ease my way back into the group by helping with some script writing, but ended up taking on what turned out to be a very busy and entertaining role! The group put on a “Ukrainian wedding” dinner theatre production where the Ukrainian bride was being married to your “typical” Anglo-Saxon, southern Ontario groom from a high class family. Well, you could imagine the chaos when the fleet of Auntie Mary’s decided to take over the kitchen, ensuring that prime rib was replaced with kielbasa, perogies and cabbage rolls. The groom’s mother had an affair with the groom’s best man (who he happened to meet on “BFF” a best friend’s version of eharmony) which ended as a “dance off” later in the night, the bride’s family got very drunk, and the wedding planner almost had a complete meltdown.  Brad can be seen in the picture with the groom having his photo taken by the wedding photographer. He played the role of “Chaz”, a very put out best man who was highly insulted that “Taco Diaz”, the groom’s best man was given more attention and recognition that he was, even though he grew up with the groom! People who came to the show said later that they felt like they were at a real wedding reception so I guess it was a success! 

  This fall also brought Alexander into the double digits, and I now have an official ten year old on my hands! I can’t believe how quickly those first ten years went by and hope that the next ten slow down a little bit so that my baby isn’t out the door sooner than I think! (Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t want a 40 year old living in my basement. Haha) Alexander celebrated the event with a few classmates and a first class birthday party out at his camper on Flat Lake, complete with fireworks, marshmallow roasting, a swamp walk and ghost stories. I highly enjoyed seeing eight big eyeballs stare back at me while I told the old “fingernails on the roof of the car” horror story. Hee hee! 

Sandy the wonder dog continues to grace us with her presence, albeit a bit slower than last year. She is really into barking a lot lately, demanding treats more often than she actually deserves, but I humour her. She is close to 80 years old and should get a cookie close to any time she wants one as far as I’m concerned. She likes to bark any time Brad and I kiss or hug! Oh, what a mighty protector she is! Haha As we speak, she’s lazily snoozing on the couch, oblivious to the fact that such kind words are being said about her dear old soul. She’s a beautiful girl. 

Other quick news is that I finally sold my Chevy Avalanche, albeit with much sorrow. That was definitely my adventure truck and I’m truly missing having her with me. I will buy a new truck of some kind, but haven’t really even starting thinking about researching it. I guess I’m still thinking about all the great memories I had in that red beast and haven’t moved forward yet to thinking about new adventures.  But we have big plans for the summer (refer to paragraph about catapulting things in the bushes) so I think that will be my project for the new year…..buying a new adventure beast. Yeehaw. 

I continue to teach at RLDHS, moving in to my 14^th year as a teacher, and 13 as the Visual Arts teacher! Wow! I had an excellent experience at this year’s Subject Area Group Conference at the Winnipeg Art Gallery, where the focus was on social justice in the arts. I’m hoping that some of those concepts can be implemented into the mural program that we’re developing for next summer. I was also fortunate to listen to Sir Ken Robinson speak at the Burton Cummings Centre in Winnipeg a few weeks back about motivation, education and the Arts. I really feel that we are in a revolutionary new age of thinking in terms of the way our world views employment, motivation and self fulfillment and am excited to be a teacher going through this engaging process. I never thought I’d be excited about pedagogical philosophies and here I am writing about it! It will be interesting to see what kind of teacher I am within the next 5 to 10 years. I think it will be very different from the approach that is implemented in classrooms today! I’ll keep you posted.

Until then, from Brad, Alexander, Sandy and I, we wish you an absolutely fabulous holiday season full of love, excitement and great health. If you’re ever in the neighbourhood, please, swing by for a drink of good cheer. We’d love to see you.

Cheers!

A Funny Thing Happened On My Way to Write a Blog....

A funny thing happened on my way to write a blog....I fell in love. Whap you in the face with a cast iron frying pan love.

Strange. It's been a long time since I've actually allowed this emotion to even remotely tap on my cranium and strum away at these rancid old heart strings. I held my head up high and convinced myself that I didn't need love. I was soooooo over that feeling, and could live a fulfilling, incredible existence without it. (Who was I trying to kid?) Instead I played a game of convenience; allowing a modicum of intimacy if it was timely, if I was amorous, or drunk. Very drunk. I liked to call up my girlfriends and we'd chat about whether "this guy would be the one" but we all knew that really, he wasn't. Not this one. I was just up to my shenanigans again and getting a bit more bitter and damaged in the process. We would spend time over endless cups of coffee, or long, drawn out Facebook messages figuring out the lapse in connection between me and "the guy"; basically psycho-analysing the shit out of the situation. Scenarios from childhood, experience, connections....nothing was left to the imagination as we emotionally raped the psychological makeup of anyone within a 10 mile radius of my heart. It was a good way of covering up for the actual truth of the matter; I was afraid to be in love because it  means being completely vulnerable and relinquishing my doubts in trust. Whew. That's a tough one.

And it happened. It happened and I can't even really explain how. Guess a lot can be said for pheromones, because when I'm with Brad it just smells right, and that's kinda funny because he's a plumber. haha But I think "relinquish" is the key word in this scenario, because when I realized that I trusted him completely, as cheesy as it sounds, those nasty ol' rusty shackles were hacked off my wrists and ankles. A huge weight was lifted and I was released from the burden of mistrust and just allowed myself to feel love. And he really does smell good. Ah pheromones....I like how Wikipedia has defined it; a secreted or excreted chemical factor that triggers a social response in members of the same species. Sha-wing! A definition like that definitely takes romance out of the equation, but interestingly, it helps to defy the logic that others may see in what may be considered "mismatched" couples. How many of you have laid in your bed at night with your partner saying, "I can't believe he's going out with her!!!" or "Man, I don't know what she sees in him 'cause he's just a big goofball" or whatever. People are sometimes judged for their choices in mates, without putting a bit of thought into this bizarre, magnetism that is part of our genetic makeup. I know that I've said it of others and it's been said of me. Consider this a public apology. Pheromones defy logic. It's base. It's raw. It's true. It's love on the purest and smelliest level. Snort.

And with that is that fantastic feeling of lust. Wow. Nothing tops that crazy, coo coo, banal feeling of desire that makes you plum dumb right to the very core. I wrote a whole blog about it once and now I feel myself reveling in that very thought and it's not even March! Woohoo! Who needs Spring to feel desire?

Cavebabies are Born in December

I kind of giggle when I read that blog, because it reminds me of my philosophies about passion. Anyone that knows me knows that I seem to live through the words of Leonard Cohen, and I may have even mentioned it here before in the lines of my blogs. Just like Cohen, I don't seem capable of sharing passion for a lover and passion for my art. It's one or the other because love is so overwhelmingly consuming. My studio is filled to the brim with half done art pieces, and snippets of ideas, and I have basically moved all of my Christmas wrapping into that space for now, because I don't have any interest in devoting my body, mind and soul into my art. I'm just not passionately there. It's why I haven't been blogging. Everything's back-burnered, including my understanding friends that send me messages teasing me of my neglectful ways. I suck at spreading my passion evenly among friends, family, pets, art, health, and housecleaning. I know that eventually I'll find that balance, but right now I'm getting swept up in midnight kitchen waltzes, fervent debates about ideologies, beautiful delicate whispers and fresh bouquets of flowers and I wish that for you too.

So go smell that special someone and tell them that you love them, even if you may have forgotten (maybe just a little bit?) what that's like. You can read this blog some other day.....