tradition and tranquility

I've started a tradition of taking landscapes with large skies while driving along in Alberta. Here is this season's series:




As you can see, it is snowy and tranquil here.
I have been enjoying a definite change of pace!

Not much is new here. I'm just hanging out at home, working in the greenhouse, catching up with the family and old friends, taking it easy.
I'm currently sitting in the only coffeeshop in Lacombe with wireless internet--what a contrast from Vancouver! I live a dual life.

Peace.

things good about Alberta

1. I have a job without having to apply
2. most people know how to handle the snow
3. I am known
4. I know it
5. fewer crazy people
6. stocking up on natural products at the farmer's market
7. my family
8. hanging out with Justine!
9. mother's curry
10. fewer responsibilities/ being parented
11. landscapes, especially during sunrise or sunset

job search.

I think I found myself a job. I am somewhat confident about it. Its through a company called CareSource, who works with healthcare employees, placing them in several healthcare facilities in the area. I went to a company meeting for them today, bringing along the papers said to represent me. I went to the doctor yesterday for a medical clearance and Tuberculosis test needed for the job. He looked in my ears and throat, then felt my neck and declared me perfectly healthy. Within 10 seconds.

I'm applying for the position of a Facility Activity Aid, which entails doing recreational and therapeutic activities with seniors. Looks decent.

The job search will slow down in two days when I am Alberta bound! Going home early for the holidays is one definite perk of being unemployed.

fun with snow.

Meet our snowman, Freddy Crougar. Yesterday the snow was perfect for making men. Despite the fact that we had the conditions on our side, I found it more difficult than remembered to make a snowman. The middle snowball was too heavy to lift, so it had to be reassembled on top of the base snowball. All of the rocks in our yard were covered with snow, so we had to do some digging to find a few. And, when I attempted to jam the carrot nose into place, it went into the right eyehole, displacing the rock eye which we worked so hard to find and place.


I took this picture a couple of days ago, not realizing the crack at the time of the picture. I was a little embarassed, and thought it might be inappropriate, but roommates found it hilarious, so here it is: a plumber with a plumber's bum!

I don't normally take pictures of bums, but was attempting to capture the fact that the vehicle was stuck in the snow and was being shoveled out.

The weather has warmed, so soon we may be saying goodbye to the snow. I'll have to get a snowball fight or something in before this happens.

...alot like Christmas

So, the snow didn't stop until late yesterday--there is at least a foot of it covering everything! Vancouver does not know what to do with this much snow! Yesterday was a snow day and today many of the schools are still cancelled. People are sliding and skidding out everywhere, and everything seems to be running behind schedule. It is a little like a foreign land out there.

I think snowstorms must be God's way of humbling humans and making us take time to stay inside and relax and drink hot chocolate, then venture outdoors with new appreciation.





stay tuned--more snow and cold to come...

Its beginning to look somewhat like Christmas

I live with a couple of Christmas fanatics. Therefore, it has felt a little like the holiday season since the first carton of eggnog appeared in our refrigerator--approximately a month ago. Since then there have been Christmas craft fairs, red and green m and m's, and a few Christmas decorations and holiday tunes.

As I look outside the window right now I see the first snow flakes of the year! This, of course, has called for eggnog lattes and a Christmas cd. Perhaps soon I will have to break out the accordion and brush up on some of my Christmas tunes. I play a mean Jingle Bells.

drum roll, please.

Indeed, it has been a soulful few weeks, spent reading, writing, and experiencing existential issues. I am happy to announce that this morning I handed in my thesis!! The title: Living With Cancer: A Journey through Art to Wholeness. It is 108 pages of...something. I'll find out about the turn out in a few weeks.

Now what to do? Find a job. Yes, that would be good.

Super Domestic Woman

It is difficult being domestic on such a day as today.
The forces are against me, since Wednesday's storm broke loose a bit of hell. Winds stirred up so much sediment in the water that it is now contaminated. No more tap water!

This means that many restaurants and coffee shops have closed down or stopped serving certain products. Starbucks was not serving coffee--outrageous! This city is going mad. There are long lines of people waiting for bottled water in grocery stores. London Drugs even had a guard posted in front of their water.

To do dishes took much pre-boiling of water.
To make macaroni and cheese took 3 bottles of water.

The forces are against me, but I shall prevail.
Because, I have a "Drum and Dine" to host for my dear departing friend, Sharon.
And, because I am Super Domestic Woman.
For today.

baring the storm

Yesterday the greater Vancouver region (GVR) supposedly had its worst storm since 2004. It was crazy. (How are you Abbotsfordites doing over there?)

Last night I ventured out into the storm to trek across the city to Regent College, to see Over the Rhine play. It was worth it. The only bad part of the evening was that I lost my favorite mitten--the one that Margaret knit me.

Over the Rhine was/are fantastic. mmmm. They are a couple who recently moved to a farm in Ohio. From the sounds of it, when they aren't touring they are hanging out on their farm, making music and being creative together all day. I think I will aspire to do the same someday (minus touring.)

(thesis status: lit. review, case studies done! not much longer!)

curing cancer

study, study, study... The thesis is due in two days! Fortunately, I have achieved an extension. There is no way, unless I cut out sleep, that I could finish it by that time. I operate now between study breaks.

I went to a two day seminar at the Centre for Integrated Healing on the foundations of a holistic approach towards cancer treatment. The Centre gave me this seminar for free because I told them that they were brilliant. Going there, I was amongst many newly diagnosed persons with cancer, several who were preparing for their final stage of life, and their support persons. I learned some acupuncture, nutrition, meditation, yogic and exercise skills, how to make decisions in four easy steps... It was quite comprehensive and everyone was so welcoming that by the end I had to remind myself that I don't have cancer.

Sometimes I dream about writing a book called "How to Cure Your Cancer--For People Who Don't Have Cancer". It's going to be about pretending to have cancer so that we don't have to wait for disease to strike before we find meaning in our lives, and appreciate what we have.

(Think it'll sell? Because I've been having some trouble finding a job.)

life, death, and whatever is in between.

Indeed, Shelley and I have arrived home safely, and our dear friend Kenda (who will hence forth be known as Crashy Glasshead, with variations of bashy, smashy, or anything else that rhymes appropriately) is doing amazingly well. I think she has passed what could be a true test of beauty: coming out of a car accident with two black eyes, a swollen face, and stitches on the forehead and still looking this fabulous.

Shelley and I decided to feel some of her pain as well, adopting stitches, visiting the car wreckage, and re-enacting the incident.


It was quite the experience that our dear friend Kenda had. She is lucky to be alive and so I left pondering the fragility of life.
This train of thought was followed up by a phone call by my mother, informing me that my 59 year old aunt died suddenly today of a blood clot. Her husband died a few years earlier of a heart attack, and she was vacationing in Idaho at the time with a couple of her widowed girlfriends.

I would have thought that my constant reading about death and dying and suffering and meaning as of late would have made these experiences more understandable. Nope.

Tibetan Buddhism says that since every moment is different, and we change according to the situation, at every instant we are both dying and being born again. Actual death, then, is just a greater transition. I wonder how our perceptions would change if we believed this.

as the soggy weather sets in...

Our little house has become slightly sombre. I've been spending too many hours inside reading and writing, but don't much feel like going outside if it entails getting drenched. Yesterday I wore my pajamas the entire day, which is a feat Shelley told me not to tell too many people of. I have decided to post it because it is very out of character. I think I might even call it an accomplishment.

On Thursday night Kenda was driving to her parents' place in Kelowna for her birthday, which was yesterday. She hit a patch of black ice and became a Duke of Hazard, careening her car and flying it off into the ditch. She sustained some head injuries and totalled her car. She is in pain and is recuperating at her parents place. Shelley and I have decided to spend a couple of days out there with her, so tomorrow we will be taking off on what will be a very mellow little trip.

On the bright side: Yesterday, as I was reading the Man's Search for Meaning, by Viktor Frankl, I discovered the meaning of life and felt inspired. Here are a couple of quotes from Frankl:

“Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible."

“The more one forgets himself—by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love—the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself…Self-actualization is possible only as a side-effect as self-transcendence.”

status

No more classes,
no more practicum,
no more supervision,
no more car.

Just one MASSIVE paper to write,
one job to find,
and a little money for the bus.

Redeeming Halloween.

I generally really dislike Halloween because of it's tacky, negative, gross, greedy and consumeristic nature. And perhaps, as children we were taught to dislike it, or only partially participate in it.

I found a couple of redemptive qualities in this holiday last night, as I attended the Second Annual Vancouver Pumpkin Massacre Party, put on by a new friend. Creativity is one great aspect of the holiday. There are some fabulous costumes out there! (Some sick, some slutty, but some spectacular!) I decided to be one of Picasso's woman, and painted my face brightly adding random facial features. It didn't turn out as well as I would have hoped. I had contemplated going all out, having random body parts and colors everywhere, but did not have the resources to prepare.

Here are my music therapy friends, wonderfully dressed up as Cher and Nightmare Before Christmas (?) characters.

Where I lacked in my costume I made up for in pumpkin carving skills. Continuing with my theme, I carved a Picasso Pumpkin. It took home the grand prize for the event: $11 much needed dollars!

I find it unfortunate that there is only one time of year culturally appropriate for pumpkin carving. I also find it unfortunate that pumpkin carving probably couldn't be made into a career...

There ye have it: pumpkin carving and creative costumes = two redemptive aspects of Halloween.

school's (almost) out

No more classes! As of yesterday afternoon, I am finished! I just need to work a couple more days at practicum, be supervised one more time, write the thesis, and I am done!

I'm working on my resume at the moment. Anyone know of any art therapy jobs out there? I'll need all the help finding one that I can get.

on this tofurkey day...

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope you all have much to fill you gratitude.

My big sister spent the weekend here. I brought her away at 5:00am this morning, venturing out in car since it was too early for public transit. We made it! I had visions of being stranded in the cold and darkness, waiting until the car towing companies opened and the taxi drivers began business for the day. Perhaps when it comes to my car I have begun to expect the worst.

Yesterday, as we were hanging out with our relatives, Leanne picked up a Time magazine with an article on how new studies are showing that siblings are so influential on how we turn out. I believe it. I think all those years of her sitting on me and drawing on my dolls have definitely made me part of who I am. And it was pretty neat how close we were when neither of us are anywhere near excelling at keeping in touch.

We spent lots of time discovering and rediscovering the city. Friday night we went out to White Rock to visit her friends, Danielle and Paul. Here are a few photos from that. (My camera was doing funny things this weekend, so this is about the only well-documented part of the weekend.)

Craigslist, the friend finder.

2:00 pm and I'm strung out on caffeine. I accidentally OD'ed this morning since I my roommate made a pot of coffee and then I was in a coffee shop with free refills.

The next chapter in the saga of Bobbi, my car, began on Saturday evening when I posted this picture on Craigslist:

Along with it, I said that Bobbi is the car who could haul anything, and that he/she (its the unisex vehicle) was beat up on the outside, but beautiful on the inside...and its the inside that counts, right? I asked $1000 for Bobbi.

Within minutes the phone started ringing and ringing. I'd be on the phone with someone telling them about Bobbi and hear a beep for an incoming call. I've never been so popular. Most people didn't like that Bobbi was an Alberta vehicle and needed to get inspected. One couple didn't mind, however, and, in broken English, asked me to drive Bobbi over to their house since they lived fairly close.

So, I drove my car over and met Andy and Mindy, the cutest Chinese couple you have ever seen. They just immigrated here two weeks ago and needed a car because transit here is not as convenient as it is in China. Andy wanted to take it for a drive, so I let him have the wheel while I sat in the passenger seat. He struggled to turn on the vehicle and find the lights while I buckled up tightly and prayed that he would not crash my car before I could sell it. He took off sharply with my high beams on.

We made it around the block a few times, (although at one point Andy thought we were lost) and they decided to think about the decision to buy my car. Mindy, having been a tour guide in China, told me what attractions I should see when I go to China. They both heartily invited me to keep in touch regardless of what happens with the car.

I returned home and checked my email and found about five emails from people interested in Bobbi. One of them was an artist requesting that I trade him my car for his paintings. He sent a link for his paintings and I replied that I thought they were beautiful, but am, unfortunately, unable to trade since I am also a poor starving artist. He promptly emailed back and said that as artists we should keep in touch, and invited me to visit his gallery.

After a few hours of the ad being on Craigslist, I decided to take it off because:
1. I was overwhelmed by the response
2. I could not stand the thought of Andy and Mindy buying it, getting the vehicle inspected, and finding out that it needed thousands of dollars worth of repairs.

So today I took Bobbi to the inspector. He said that she is going to need a lot of work done for him/her to become a BC resident, especially since BC does not take in cars with rust. I was advised to sell Bobbi for parts. It is sad to know that my car is going to be torn apart.

Craigslist, here I come...
Perhaps I will meet a few more friends.

How to Get to the Ethiopian Restaurant

--by Sara and Shelley

First, walk to your local skytrain station. In our case, it is only two blocks away. Make sure your faresaver ticket is in hand beforehand lest you have to dig through your wallet in public.

Enter skytrain station, activate ticket if you remember, and step on escalator. Stare straight ahead and smile.

Find a spot to stand along the track away from creepy men. Do something, such as play with a digital camera, to occupy the moments you stand waiting for the skytrain.

Fight the urge to play on the tracks, or enter the area between the tracks. Apparently it is high voltage and your body will be thrust through the air.




When the skytrain comes, squeeze inside and find a railing to hold onto, lest you go flying into the arms of that creepy man.




Make strange faces to intimidate strangers.





When the train stops, worm your way out and walk quickly out of the station and to your next destination.
Do not pause to take a picture of a busker, as this makes them (or one) angry.



Walk underneath the skytrain tracks on Commercial Drive.




Pass Grandview highway and keep walking for a few blocks.




Notice old bicycles and the shadows they create when the sun is in the process of sinking.



Stop at the Ethiopan cafe, wash your hands, and prepare to eat some pretty delicious food.

autumnal equinox

There has been a sudden season change; last week I thought I would have to reacquaint myself with the rhythms of the rain. The seasons here are almost more comparable to a rainy and dry season than a winter, spring, summer and fall.

The last few days have been sunny again, but with that cold tinge to the air. I met my friend Kristin and her buddies at Granville island and we took the opportunity to enjoy the coast before the warmth fades for the year.



It is really amazing how much the weather changes a place. During the rain the city can become a sombre place, but come sunshine it is so lively.

community

A couple of days ago I was walking down Broadway, trying to find a place to buy bus tickets on my way to the bus stop. I saw a sketchy little convenience store and decided to go in, even though I knew there wouldn't be bus tickets there. I asked the man behind the counter, an older East Indian man, if he sold bus tickets.

He said no, then took a few moments to look at me, really study me. Then he said, "You are an honest person. You have a big heart and like to give to people. Be careful not to give too much. People will take your money from you..." Then he asked me where I was from and when my birthday was, nodding after each answer, as if to confirm his assumptions.

I asked him how he knew this, but he said, "Have a good day!" as if to scurry me out of his shop. It was a strange little experience and I am not sure what to make of it yet.

Lately I've been struggling with ideas of community--what exactly one is and can be, and why I feel the need for one so strongly. Sometimes I think that Dordt and small town Alberta have spoiled me with such strong communities. Other times I think that I need to find community within myself now. Or that the synthesis of random encounters with strangers can form some sort of substitute...

What constitutes a community? Any thoughts?

back again.

I awoke, early Sunday morning, to a big thunderstorm. Lightning, thunder, and hail at 7:30am! It was awesome. Here is a view from my window. Vancouver doesn't get storms like that. I think I had heard thunder once this year until then.




I am back in Vancouver already again. And I did catch my flight on the way home, no problems. The good thing about doing something as silly as missing a flight because you fail to take 24 hour clock into consideration is that I will most likely not do it again. I will do something else...

'Twas a great little trip. I like to think that being a country girl living in the city makes me a well-rounded person. Sometimes, however, it just makes me confused.

adventures back home

On Thursday I was reminded that airlines operate on 24 hour time when I missed my flight by 12 hours. I was having difficulty with the self-check in and so I went to the counter for assistance where I was glared at, asked if I knew that my flight left that morning, and told to see if the ticketing officer might be able to sell me a new ticket. The ticketing officer pressed about a hundred computer keys in silence before handing me a new ticket, saying: "You are lucky that I'm having a good day."

As the plane took off the sun was setting and I was suddenly overcome by grace and the realization of how beautiful everything was. And how unbelievable it was that I was mid-air with so many strangers, all headed to the same place. And that the lady next to me was reading Chinese, which is written vertically. It was a moment in which nothing and everything made sense.

Yesterday, as I pulled into a Tim Hortons parking lot full of trucks to order inside, since there was a Drive-thru line up of almost a block outside the store, I was reminded that I am in Alberta. It is harvest time right now and so there are combines running day and night. And people need their Tim Hortons coffee.

Today I woke up at 5:00am so I could sell veggies at the farmer's market with my dad. (We stopped by Tim Hortons on the way there.) I love farmer's markets. There is a man who lost an arm and a leg and almost another arm in a train accident when he was a boy. He sits across from our stand and plays his drum, holding the drumstick with the hook on his amputated arm, singing old songs that remind me of Forrest Gump. There is a carpenter named Joseph from Trinidad who stops by with eight triple-triple coffees from Tim Hortons, passes them out to us, and sits in the back of our truck eating his breakfast. There is a brightly clothed woman named Wildberry who has made it her mission to spread joy to everyone, and also paint flowers and rainbows on them. She was really excited to see me and gave me a giant hug. Alot of people were happy to see me again. I love the people. And the sense of community here is something I've been craving while living in the big city.

Unfortunately farmer's markets in Vancouver are not the same, from what I have experienced. Alberta just does some things so well.

new year, new look

Today marks my one year anniversary as a Vancouverite. I have decided to celebrate by changing my blog (a much more mature look is now required) and eating raspberry pie.

Tomorrow festivities continue with an early morning commute across the city to the first day of classes, and then a flight across a province to spend the weekend in Alberta.

(I can't believe I've been here a year! that is crazy!)

(phew.)

Just finished the first draft of my thesis...or put it away for now. After a week of being a hermit, incessantly reading and taking notes and checking e-mail, I have the first fifteen page proposal. It took me a lot of coffee to get to this point.

The working title: Cancer as Part of a Spiritual Journey
It is going to explore the relationship between art, spirituality and healing and compare the journey of those experiencing cancer with the archetypal image of a pilgrim. And show how the prospect of death results in new life, or enlightenment. and talk about the mind-body-spirit connection. and show how art is meditation is healing. and, and, and...

I have too many thoughts going through my head right now.
I am off to do a brainless activity for awhile.

Fix you like a hotdog...

Shelley made and posted this on her blog site today. I decided that I have rights to it too.

The title comes from a dream I had a while ago, in which my sister decided that she wanted to attend my school. Upon being accepted, she threw a big party in which she gave out hotdogs and t-shirts that said "Vancouver Art Therapy Institute: We'll fix you like a hotdog".

I became really upset with her and tried to explain that you can't just fix a person like you fix a hotdog. It takes time...

Since then fixing like a hotdog has become a popular phrase in this household. It works well for everything. I think we should all incorporate it into our speech. Spread the word (phrase).

strange photos happen in the dark

Ross was in town after his massive roadtrip from Minnesota. Therefore, we decided to camp, and since the ferry going to Bowen Island was the cheapest, we decided to take it. Little did we know that "Bowfest" was happening (which included an apparently stellar performance by the band Raised by Apes) and there is no place to camp on Bowen Island. But, there was no turning back. So, no map in hand, we began to drive across the island until we came to a retreat center. No room there, but the manager informed us that if we could not find any other place at all we could come back and he would take us somewhere.

After a trip across the island and getting turned down from a New Age retreat center, we returned since it was getting dark. Marks, the gracious manager, told us to load up our backs with our belongings and follow him. We hiked a fairly treachorous little trail around the mountain until we came to a plateau on a cliff's edge, overlooking a mountain expanse with ocean in the distance.

Good things happen when you don't go into a situation with expectations. Food tastes the best when you make it on a campstove in the dark. And strange photos happen in the dark.