Saturday, November 29, 2008

"When I Was the Muse" by Kate Daniels

When the painter said, OK, you guys,
take off your clothes! I startled at the plural,
assuming I'd been engaged to model by myself.
But then the dark-skinned god I knew as Aaron
from my Econ class unzipped his jeans,
and dropped them, grinning, on the floor.
So I did, too, and clambered up beside him
on the plywood box that elevated us above
the clutch of paint-stained easels. Thoughtfully,
the students posed our naked bodies. Someone fluffed
the crispy hair between my legs into a dark brown
bristling fan. And someone pinched the sides
of Aaron's face to pinken up his cheeks.
Privately, I installed myself inside that mental space
where I had hidden as a child when the world
could be aborted no other way ...

It was part of my plan to walk unclothed
among the portraits my unclad body
had provoked. So when we broke
for lunch, the students lunging in a herd
out back to smoke, I did. If you had asked me
then why I modeled, I'd have said,
to overcome my bourgeois insecurities,
to combat my fear of what might happen
if I showed myself completely naked
to someone else. But if you asked me now?
I'd describe the privilege of walking among
A museum of strangers' images devoted to oneself,
and tell you what a privilege it was to see myself
the varied ways that others did.
Some silly fellow had painted nipples on me the size
and shape of frying eggs. Another jokester
had shrunk them down as small as M&Ms.
But someone serious and sad had shared a vision
of my head as a clotted orb of hair and mouth,
and brushed in underneath, a body headless
as the horseman in the myth. Then I seemed
to walk into the darkroom of my mind's own eye
and saw the self I'd always felt inside but never known:
a complicated, unsmiling creature with a fear-tinged face.
Around her the aura of something golden was fighting
with whip-like straps of something black. She was staring
straight into the future, trying to get out, trying
to conceal her fear, completely unaware
of how it glistened and glowed, and of how
irresistible it was for the artist to spread it
across the canvas so that everyone could see.


Though I believe that the reading the poem thoroughly first, the way the words sound, imply, and the emotions they invoke are more important than knowing the exact definition, I also believe knowing the meaning of the words adds another more deeper dimension into the selection. Therefore, here are the definition of words not commonly used in everyday language, to be used with caution:

clambered - a difficult, awkward climb

bourgeois - a person whose attitudes and behavior are marked by conformity to the standards and conventions of the middle class; dominated or characterized by materialistic pursuits or concerns

tinged - a slight admixture, as of some qualifying property or characteristic; trace; smattering

aura - a distinctive but intangible quality that seems to surround a person or thing; atmosphere

Friday, November 28, 2008

Steven & Chris Showing

So yesterday (Thursday) Mike and I went to the taping of Steven and Chris, over at the CBC in Toronto. Ever since watching them with Florine back when they were on "Designer Guys" I have fallen in love with their humour, openness, and of course their sense of style. And since the tickets were free, why not? Mike was a good sport to come, knowing absolutely nothing about the show and I think as much as he'd hate to admit it, he had a lot of fun as well. It's interesting behind the scenes, learning to cheer and clap on cue (as if you wouldn't anyways), and laughing along at the jokes and silly mistakes that the people onstage make. And I don't know about you but if you're wondering just what people do in-between scenes: all it is is taking a break, and they play games for prizes, it's pretty sweet. I met this older couple that had been there a couple of weeks ago and they loved it so much they just had to go again. Her husband looked like he had only gone on his wife's instance, but I saw the smile on his face and the way he talked with his wife and you knew his seriousness was only fake.

Anyways the part you're all dying to hear is what Steven and Chris were like in real life. During one of the breaks they had a photo-op and Mike and I went down for our pictures. Or mine, really, since Mike refused to be in it. In TV they are glamorous and fun and though that didn't really change, up close you see that they are actually 30-something men with whom being whisked away on a day would be comparable to spending a day with a friend's cool dad.

All in all it was a great experience, one that we will definitely have to do again. Pictures posted as soon as Mike uploads them!

P.S.
For free swag we each received a digital photo album/travel alarm clock and I won "The Best of Bridge" cookbook.

Watch us on CBC - December 3/08 at 2:00 p.m!

Pictures below =D

At the CBC Museum that was in the building, missing Mr. Dressup (or the lack of sufficient memory of him)

More puppets!


With Steven and Chris (!!!). Mike was too shy to be in the picture.


He agrees to pose on the set though and, just like real TV hosts, we do a bit of advertising ourselves.

Friday, November 21, 2008

"Nothing Twice" by Wislawa Szymborska, Translated by Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak

Nothing can ever happen twice.
In consequence, the sorry fact is
that we arrive here improvised
and leave without the chance to practice.

Even if there is no one dumber,
if you're the planet's biggest dunce,
you can't repeat the class in summer:
this course is only offered once.

No day copies yesterday,
no two nights will teach what bliss is
in precisely the same way,
with precisely the same kisses.

One day, perhaps some idle tongue
mentions your name by accident:
I feel as if a rose were flung
into the room, all hue and scent.

The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
A rose? A rose? What could that be?
Is it a flower or a rock?

Why do we treat the fleeting day
with so much needless fear and sorrow?
It's in its nature not to say
Today is always gone tomorrow

With smiles and kisses, we prefer
to seek accord beneath our star,
although we're different (we concur)
just as two drops of water are.

Sometimes I read a poem and just really fall in love with it, without exactly knowing why. Maybe it is the flow of the words or the mood I'm in or the way it makes me feel at a particular moment. Whatever the reason, I like this poem and would like to share it and that is that.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

For Those Days You Find Yourself Moving From One Coffee To The Next

Gravity, so unyielding
Endures to keep our bodies sinking
Tugging us, lulling us down to sleep
Swindling half the time we keep

Gravity, such a brat
Protests every refrain flat
Yanks the flesh beneath our eyes
Nulls our brain with its despise

Gravity, always domineering
Scoffing, taunting, haunting, sneering
How I long to break your gripping sway
And yet I succumb day after day
Without you we'd go mad they say

But I will scorn you all the way.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Paucity Found

I find the older I get the hotter I like my tea.

I'm more discerning of the books I read,

More critical of the articles in print.

The older I get the less I collect.

The stronger the tendency to be rational.

I find the older I get the stronger my fortress becomes.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Baby Blues, Episode One: Christmas Special

During an argument about best comic strip ever, a friend introduced me his favourite - one that I had never heard of before. It even had it's own tv show. Although it's no Calvin and Hobbes, I have to admit I'm pretty hooked. There haven't been many comic-to-tv adaptations that turn out well. And yes I mean Garfield as well. Everyone was so monotone... what was funny about that?

Anyways, give it a watch. Definitely worth your while.





Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Politics

So I'm sure everyone who ever blogged is writing about Obama's presidency win in the U.S. After all, it is a historic moment, and certainly much more interesting than Canada's own election, from which basically nothing changed. I haven't been following the campaigns at all and neither understand nor have much interest in politics. But I coincidentally came across an interesting passage in a book tonight.


"Always funny, Mr. Thwaite [a famous political journalist in the book] is also deadly serious: 'None of this is a game,' he says of politics and journalism. 'It may look like it, it may look like a circus sometimes, but that's only from the luxurious vantage point of the United States in 2001. Ask people anywhere else - Bosnia, Rwanda, the Middle East, sure, but also China, Algeria, Russia, even Western Europe, and they'll remind you of what you ought to know: this is life and death stuff. There's nothing more important than this.'"
- The Emperor's Children, by Claire Messud

Made me stop in my tracks and consider just how important an election - any election for a position of power - is. I'll have to start following politics and trying to understand it more I guess. Then again, if the New Agers are right and the world ends on December 21, 2012, it won't really matter!

 
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