that time when a blog post revolves around an awesome friend

I spent the break on the couch in the sunroom, working on the gallery review for Topics in Modern Canadian Art, reading the Nutcracker conductor's score (I'm up to the part where Clara dances with the nutcracker in the party scene), working on The Book and enjoying Tom's new CD player. On Thursday night I found out that Lynn had passed her final exam in her surgical tech program with the highest grade in her class--in the words of the email that I sent to her the next day, "I erupted with shrieks and cheers--and threw myself back into my dancing with a vengeance." The Met broadcast a performance of R. Strauss' (the Thus Spake Zarathustra guy) Der Rosenkavalier yesterday and I recognized some of the tunes thanks to the Met Opera Brass' second album, Waltzes, Songs and Festive Scenes--track one is a Waltz Suite from that opera and track ten is the Final Trio. Thanks, MOB! Although this is the second time that I have heard that opera, the MOB was still a few months away from releasing Waltzes when I heard it for the first time. Thanks to them, I was humming along with the familiar pieces. I also celebrated the fact that Lynn has been playing the violin for fifty years (wow). I don't know when the anniversary is beyond the year (sometime last year or this year), so I decided a few months ago that I would celebrate during Reading Week. I also photographed Mom for my independent project.

On Saturday, I burned my journal from when I was twelve. This is the one and only time that I plan to commit such an act--there were some things in that journal that I want to keep secret forever and I have been wanting to burn it for a year or two. I'm more or less fine with other people reading the other journals and diaries that I wrote--the one that I burned was the only one that, when I think about it, makes me think, "really?? I wrote that?! I thought that?!" While I plan to live to be somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and five, I admit that I think about that journal in the context of what will be found after my life is over. What will I be comfortable with people reading? Not that journal!

March twenty-ninth will mark the tenth anniversary of the day that I told Lynn that I'd been thinking about quitting violin lessons. She'd been away for a couple weeks and although I'd talked about it with Mom, I needed to discuss it with Lynn--both because she was my violin teacher and because I just knew that talking with her about what was going around in my head would make me feel better (sometimes, talking with a specific person is all it takes).

That day, almost as soon as we were in her music room I said that that there was something I wanted to tell her. I can't remember if I'd tuned my violin by that point or not (tuning was always one of the first things that we did), though I remember that I'd taken it out of its case, put the shoulder rest on and tightened the horsehair on my bow.

When was thinking about the conversation in the weeks leading up to it, I thought that it would just be a fifteen-minute thing--NOPE! We spent about forty-five minutes (my lessons were an hour each by that point) discussing what I was going through (half of me wanted to quit, half of me didn't, which made for a big mess in my head and I was very conflicted and upset as a result), and Lynn was very supportive and kind and held me when I needed to cry. This is one of those times when I wonder how the heck I ended up with such an awesome violin teacher (this local guy who my mom approached when I was begging for violin lessons when I was six or seven wasn't taking on any new students at the time but knew someone who was--Lynn. Just think if that guy had had an open spot...).

As I talked, my voice shaking the whole time, I paced back and forth between Lynn and the piano (a baby grand, if I'm not mistaken--I found out that there are more than two sizes of grand pianos a couple nights ago). By the time we moved onto cramming a lesson into the remaining fifteen minutes, I felt much calmer about the whole situation. Thanks, Lynn. (Though it was basically the eye of the storm, as I spent much of the next afternoon sobbing.)

That was the first of three (so far) difficult times that Lynn has seen me through--the other two were the death of my granny in '06 and my current struggles. Let's face it: she's awesome. I think everyone should have at least one friend like that: someone who they can be completely themselves around and to whom they can go with everything. I have a few other friends like that, but Lynn's the one who stands out every time.

The best part: not only is this a gush-about-Lynn-to-other-people situation (not uncommon)--but as she's a reader of this blog, she gets to read it (hi!).

Even with my boycott of the Sochi Olympics, some news has still filtered in--especially Team Canada's double hockey win (both the women and the men took home the gold). During this year's Games, I've really appreciated CBC's coverage: while they do have the broadcasting rights in Canada, they have also talked about the negative side of the Games, including Russia's treatment of the LGBT community (which is why I won't be taking in a performance at the Mariinsky or Bolshoi anytime soon: even if I left my pride pin at home, I still wouldn't feel safe in Russia) and the environmental impact of this year's Olympics (it's awful).

Today's bus was another direct-to-Halifax bus (though it stopped in Moncton to pick up more passengers), and was possibly the nicest bus that I've encountered. The only thing it was missing was a wifi connection (it had plugs, though, which meant that I could work on The Book). While en route, I finished the gallery review--all I have to do is proofread it, print it off and hand it in on Thursday. As a result of the bus being direct, I arrived in Halifax about two hours earlier than expected. This evening I'm going to go through the readings for tomorrow's Contemporary Indigenous Arts class, edit the photos from the shoot with Mom and do whatever other prep I have to do for the rest of the week.

While we're on the topic of a certain awesome violinist, I might have stumbled across the program for her M.Mus. recital. I'm hunting down the various pieces on YouTube, and the first one is way too awesome to not share.

stressstressstress... FREEDOM!

I'm home--and still working feverishly on my book. I've set myself a deadline of sometime in May '14. And yes, I'm obsessed.

Monday: I spent much of the day studying for the Twentieth-Century Art midterm, which was on Thursday.

Due to my workload, I'd only started work on the gallery review for Topics in Modern Canadian Art a couple days prior and was worried that I wouldn't get it done on time, so I told Carla about my situation and she gave me an extension. It's now due the Thursday after Reading Week.

That day was the first day of the Peter Gross Ball Hockey Tournament, and Photo won its game.

Tuesday: The whole class was devoted to exam prep, and by the end my hand ached.

My appointment with Joan was basically an hour-long gush session for me--everything from the fact that my friend's cancer is easily treatable (yay!) to the fact that I'm turning this blog into a book (it's going to be so weird reading about the making of said book--hi, Annapurna of the future and anyone else who reads the book--including my parents!).

Afterward I had my first shoot for my independent project, which was an interesting one, as Jack's studio is more of a hangout spot due to the fact that much of his work is performance art (don't ask me how that fits into a BFA). I spent the rest of the afternoon editing photos and studying.

Wednesday: Studying. And stressing out. All day. 'Nuff said.

Thursday: I stayed up too late studying, so I was more than a bit tired. Somehow I managed to pull through the exam and I treated myself to lunch at Cora's when it was over--after all the stress, I figured I'd earned a treat.

Friday: I'd originally planned to head home that day, but due to a storm that hit NB, I had to change the date on my ticket. I spent the day at my favourite coffee shop working on my book.

That day was the final day of the ball hockey tournament at NBCCD. Photo made it to the finals, but had to settle for second place. You can read about the tournament here (including Photo's first game), here, here (including Photo's second game) and here (the final). You can admire the trophy here.

Saturday: Up and at 'em. Way too early and on only five hours of sleep. After a bit of a scuffle (won't say anything beyond the fact that it's related to what I went through in the Fall) I hurried down to the lobby where I called a cab--and made my first-ever request: I needed a cab right then because I was in danger of missing the bus. Within minutes, a cab was pulling up to the door.

I got to the bus station just as they were boarding (whew!) and spent a couple hours--you guessed it--working on The Book. I worked on it until my computer's battery started to get low (BookSmart is a bit of a power-suck). The bus between Halifax and Moncton was rather cantankerous and a few times I wondered if we were going to be on time. The driver had to pull over a few times and while we were still in the station he took the keys out--and the thing kept on running until he did something (probably under the hood) to shut it off. Freaky. We did get to Moncton, though--and just as I entered the station, they announced the bus that was headed to F'ton (usually I have to wait for about half an hour).

When I finally got to the F'ton station, I only had to wait a few minutes until Mom arrived. After I asked about changing my ticket over the phone (there's a possibility of another storm on Sunday--grrr...), we drove home, talking most of the way (everything from the latest news about Ca-r-ma--a cat TNR group that she volunteers with--to whether or not rites of passage--which are an important part of various religions and indigenous cultures but are, for the most part, nonexistent in secular Western culture--are necessary (I say yes).

Tom bought a new CD player this winter, as the old one had bit the dust. He'd told me that the new one is the best we've ever had, so I was itching to try it out. I put on the last track from Hika--and once again, Trond knocked my socks off: the sound was so clear. The best way I can describe it is by using a Claritin ad as an analogy: the old CD player is the part of the ad that has the film over it. The sound was really good, but at the end of the day the sound was that of any old CD player. With the new player, the sound was richer and revealed things that most other CD players would miss (the film has come off). Trond might as well have been playing in the sunroom, where the sound system is.

Sunday: I'd planned to get work done on the gallery review and a few other things, like studying the Nutcracker conductors' score. But although I dug said score out, I spent the day--yep--working on The Book.

Monday: While I'm still obsessively working on The Book, I've managed to work on the other stuff as well.

the fun of midterms

The fun keeps happening. **sarcasm** Also, midterms. **gulp**

Monday: I got bus tickets on the way to school. This will be my final time doing so to come home for break.

Tuesday: A friend with whom I hadn't been getting along with for a long time and I finally sat down and talked--and she told me that she has breast cancer. The tumour's pretty big, and she doesn't know whether or not she'll survive. I sobbed through much of our talk, I felt so bad for her. She choked up a couple times, too, but didn't turn into a complete mess, unlike me.

After my appointment with Joan, I spent the day doing homework and that night I snapped. After what I went through last semester, Stan's death and now this, I'd had enough and I became furious with the gods.

Wednesday: I emailed Lynn late-Tuesday/early-Wednesday and exploded, taking out a lot of my rage and fear on her (though I made it clear that said rage wasn't directed at her: I was angry with the gods, having gone through so much over the last few months and I'd finally reached my breaking point, as I think of this in the context of the entire year). That night I would've been happy to find an empty room somewhere and let loose and scream and yell until I couldn't anymore.

These pieces describe how I felt perfectly. Brace yourself. If you've seen Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, you might recognize the first one.



During my first lesson with my full-size violin (September 10, 2001), Lynn played this piece on said violin--and I fell in love with the composition immediately. Since then, it has been a piece that I turn to when I need something that I know will comfort me. Thanks, Lynn!







And this one pretty much sums it all up:



Thursday: My afternoon class was canceled because Carla was sick so I used the time to get a head-start on my weekend homework load and run some errands.

Friday: As promised back in the summer, I spent the day listening to Tchaikovsky while finishing the readings for Contemporary Indigenous Arts.

Saturday: On the way to school, I noticed that Halifax had raised the gay pride flag in the Grand Parade. I stopped and took some photos (the one below is from today)--and suspected that it was a show of solidarity with the LGBT community in Russia. Turns out, I was right. When I googled it, I found out that Fredericton and Moncton have also raised the pride flag at their city halls (go New Brunswick!). I have no words for how excited I felt when I saw the flag in Halifax. Now, whenever I pass the Grand Parade on my way to or from school, I look at the flag and smile: pride flags and rainbows in general make me happy, but pride flags being raised in solidarity with Russia's LGBT community, which many Canadian cities are doing, make me even happier (shut up, Rob Ford).

I missed the live broadcast of Rusalka (the story reminds me of Anderson's The Little Mermaid)--so I listened to it in Mountain Time, which, on CBC at least (I don't know about other networks in other countries), meant that it wasn't live. As I'd expected, Song to the Moon was spectacular.



I'd planned to do the first shoot for my independent project that evening, but the guy who was supposed to pose is sick so we rescheduled for this coming week ('tis the season).

While waiting for my laundry that evening I finally started turning this blog into a book using Blurb BookSmart. I'd tried a few times using BookSmart's blog-to-book feature, but it always stalled after importing my photos. I finally decided to give up on that method and copy and paste the text myself, post by post. I'm finding BookSmart clunky and slow (seriously, Blurb??), but at least I'm able to start work on my dream. I'm looking at a trade-size hardcover book with full-colour photos. Based on what I've done so far (up to Christmas break '09), I'm looking at about a two hundred page book and around 100,000 words(!)--not bad for five years of college and university. My current plan is to copy the posts that I wrote during the school year and possibly the posts that I wrote during the summer breaks. Some of the summer posts are referenced in posts written during the school year (e.g., the posts that I wrote as I figured out how I was going to approach the Sochi Games). I also want to do a table of contents, which will be interesting. Between this and more study of the Nutcracker conductors' score (can't wait!), reading week will fly by.

Sunday: I spent much of the day writing and stressing about midterms (seriously, my time management skills should be better than this by now). BTW, I only have two midterms to worry about right now: the one for Topics in Modern Canadian Art isn't until after the break.

break? what break?

This break wasn't so much a break as it was a week-long unstructured work period.

Monday: I spent much of the day being lazy--until I had to shovel a path from the garage to the road (not a long distance, but there was a lot of snow).

Tuesday: Mom and I went skiing. I planned on getting homework done, but ended up not having enough time.

Wednesday: Mom and I went to town, and then I finally got homework done.

Thursday: Mom and I went skiing again and this time the snow was a lot better. ...and I did more homework.

Friday: You guessed it: more homework. Mom and I also played Cat-opoly. She won, though not without landing on "Fleas" immediately after passing "Scat" several times (meaning that the $200 that she got for passing "scat" went to pay for the fleas, which also cost $200--that's some expensive flea medication), and howls of laughter from both of us.

Saturday: I did almost everything that I needed to do to apply for summer jobs, but because a few places have application forms and neither of us picked them up, I decided to wait and do all my job-hunting stuff when I come home for the summer. A lot of the places that I apply to every year are closed for the winter when I do the rounds during break, anyway.

Sunday: I spent much of the day on the road. This time the buses were on time for much of the trip.

I tried to get work done, but I think I'm just too tired.

Tomorrow is the beginning of NBCCD's mid-term assessment week and then they are on break the following week. No wonder the break snuck up on me this year.