You won't hear from me, zeppelinphan, or Sister until probably Tuesday morning. Hasta luego, bitches!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Goin' To Courtenay, BRB
You won't hear from me, zeppelinphan, or Sister until probably Tuesday morning. Hasta luego, bitches!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Updates: Not My Strong Point
Ye gods, I am not being very consistent about my update schedule these days, am I? I don't really have any epic blog topics to write, and life hasn't been especially exciting lately, so my online presence has been very quiet.
Anyway, let's have an update post.
READING:
* The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson. (Absolutely stunning thesis on the Chicago World's Fair and the serial killer almost no one knows about, H.H. Holmes. My favorite serial killer, seriously. Guy was fucked up.)
* The Well of Loneliness by Radcliffe Hall. (Classic lesbian literature that sparked the most famous obscenity trial in British history. What can I say.)
* The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde.
I'm hoping to start Flowers For Algernon soon. Mmm, brain surgery.
WRITING:
That project about the Devil and the Boy is still creeping around my brain, innocently posing as a short story. I've got the most brilliant scenes for it, but no brain time to write them. I want to finish this one so badly, simply because of how much fun I get to have with it. Goethe and Milton had the right idea: the Devil is a most entertaining character to write about. It's such a wonderfully flexible concept. As an added bonus, I can insert Lovecraftian themes of inconceivable, maddening visions without even a moment's guilt. Huzzah!
ART:
I have done nothing but a very simple sketch of the Devil that I am not 100% ecstatic about. His design needs major work, and the internet has not helped me at all. The Boy is giving me just as much moxie on his design -- dreads, how I hate them. They either look like tube sausages or caterpillars with overly optimistic afros.
TEXTILES:
Two knitting projects on the go. One is a hat, the other is a sort of plush figurine. They both involve cephalopods in the vaguest way possible.
SCHOOLWORK:
I am still eagerly anticipating the day that SIDES will fix my Lit course so I can, y'know, actually start working on it. Seeing as I'm on a rather fixed schedule with it, the tests being on specific days and all, I'd like to get underway before the course itself forces me to fall behind.
JOBS:
Nothing of particular note to report. Money is good. Boss #2 makes me snort liquids out my nose on a regular basis. Same old.
BRAIN:
Still under the realm of "things one should not speak of on the internet." Honestly, at this point, it's a non-issue. I could tell people, but it wouldn't matter because I would either get a "wow, fascinating, I really don't care" response, or a stupid platitude because there's nothing else to say or the connection isn't made, so it's not worth my time. I suppose some things are better off kept private in the long run, even in a group so tolerant as the Serious Crew. Perhaps especially.
EXCITING THINGS/STUPID THINGS:
This gets combined into two on account of;
a) I won't be home on my day(s) off and therefore probably won't get much relaxing done this week, but;
b) I do get to go out of town with zeppelinphan and Sister, and I get to ride on the train again, and I'll have lots of time to work on my knitting projects. So, I guess it works out about even. I am also apparently drinking a can of Irn Bru, which is supposed to be better than any cola that ever existed in the history of carbonated drinks (according to Sister and most of the Serious Crew), so that's another point on the Exciting Things side.
THINGS TO DO:
Pack for trip, charge iPod, charge camera, buy peacock fabric, finish knitting projects, write that damn short story, finish reading The Devil In The White City and all those other classic literature volumes littering various corners of my room, acquire hard copy of journal archives before it gets too big for comfort.
HUMOR:
Boss #2 and I were checking out people of various genders that walked past the store window today. At one point he remarked, "God, what would your mother think if you brought that one home?" To which I replied, "Seeing as my first boyfriend once sewed his own lips shut, and my first girlfriend had pink hair, I think she learned to accept whatever I dragged through the door."
MISC:
The layer of dust on my tarot shelf is appalling. I should put them in the closet with the others if I'm not going to use them -- which, given how little time I have for other hobbies, is likely. Ah well, more shelves for books...!
My muscles and my brain are alerting me that it's past my bedtime. Until the next post (whensoever that may be), this is your friendly neighborhood Bryi wishing you a great weekend.
Anyway, let's have an update post.
READING:
* The Devil In The White City by Erik Larson. (Absolutely stunning thesis on the Chicago World's Fair and the serial killer almost no one knows about, H.H. Holmes. My favorite serial killer, seriously. Guy was fucked up.)
* The Well of Loneliness by Radcliffe Hall. (Classic lesbian literature that sparked the most famous obscenity trial in British history. What can I say.)
* The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde.
I'm hoping to start Flowers For Algernon soon. Mmm, brain surgery.
WRITING:
That project about the Devil and the Boy is still creeping around my brain, innocently posing as a short story. I've got the most brilliant scenes for it, but no brain time to write them. I want to finish this one so badly, simply because of how much fun I get to have with it. Goethe and Milton had the right idea: the Devil is a most entertaining character to write about. It's such a wonderfully flexible concept. As an added bonus, I can insert Lovecraftian themes of inconceivable, maddening visions without even a moment's guilt. Huzzah!
ART:
I have done nothing but a very simple sketch of the Devil that I am not 100% ecstatic about. His design needs major work, and the internet has not helped me at all. The Boy is giving me just as much moxie on his design -- dreads, how I hate them. They either look like tube sausages or caterpillars with overly optimistic afros.
TEXTILES:
Two knitting projects on the go. One is a hat, the other is a sort of plush figurine. They both involve cephalopods in the vaguest way possible.
SCHOOLWORK:
I am still eagerly anticipating the day that SIDES will fix my Lit course so I can, y'know, actually start working on it. Seeing as I'm on a rather fixed schedule with it, the tests being on specific days and all, I'd like to get underway before the course itself forces me to fall behind.
JOBS:
Nothing of particular note to report. Money is good. Boss #2 makes me snort liquids out my nose on a regular basis. Same old.
BRAIN:
Still under the realm of "things one should not speak of on the internet." Honestly, at this point, it's a non-issue. I could tell people, but it wouldn't matter because I would either get a "wow, fascinating, I really don't care" response, or a stupid platitude because there's nothing else to say or the connection isn't made, so it's not worth my time. I suppose some things are better off kept private in the long run, even in a group so tolerant as the Serious Crew. Perhaps especially.
EXCITING THINGS/STUPID THINGS:
This gets combined into two on account of;
a) I won't be home on my day(s) off and therefore probably won't get much relaxing done this week, but;
b) I do get to go out of town with zeppelinphan and Sister, and I get to ride on the train again, and I'll have lots of time to work on my knitting projects. So, I guess it works out about even. I am also apparently drinking a can of Irn Bru, which is supposed to be better than any cola that ever existed in the history of carbonated drinks (according to Sister and most of the Serious Crew), so that's another point on the Exciting Things side.
THINGS TO DO:
Pack for trip, charge iPod, charge camera, buy peacock fabric, finish knitting projects, write that damn short story, finish reading The Devil In The White City and all those other classic literature volumes littering various corners of my room, acquire hard copy of journal archives before it gets too big for comfort.
HUMOR:
Boss #2 and I were checking out people of various genders that walked past the store window today. At one point he remarked, "God, what would your mother think if you brought that one home?" To which I replied, "Seeing as my first boyfriend once sewed his own lips shut, and my first girlfriend had pink hair, I think she learned to accept whatever I dragged through the door."
MISC:
The layer of dust on my tarot shelf is appalling. I should put them in the closet with the others if I'm not going to use them -- which, given how little time I have for other hobbies, is likely. Ah well, more shelves for books...!
My muscles and my brain are alerting me that it's past my bedtime. Until the next post (whensoever that may be), this is your friendly neighborhood Bryi wishing you a great weekend.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Essay: Literary Analysis of PotO
First Assignment of Advanced Placement English Literature and Composition: COMPLETE.
It's a literary analysis of character functions in The Phantom of the Opera. Is anyone surprised? (That's a rhetorical question, guys.)
For the curious -- and because I promised a post somewhat along these lines, and because I'm rather pleased with how it turned out -- here is the essay in full. It's 850 words, not particularly long.
It's a literary analysis of character functions in The Phantom of the Opera. Is anyone surprised? (That's a rhetorical question, guys.)
For the curious -- and because I promised a post somewhat along these lines, and because I'm rather pleased with how it turned out -- here is the essay in full. It's 850 words, not particularly long.
**************
The Nature of Good and Evil: Character Traits In The Phantom Of The Opera
An Analysis of The Phantom Of The Opera by Gaston Leroux
(All quotations and page numbers from October 2008 Bantam Classics paperback reissue, translated by Lowell Bair.)
The Phantom of the Opera is a difficult novel to categorize. Is it a ghost story? A romance? A mystery? At its core, it is the story of a disfigured musical genius who, by virtue of his residence in the catacombs below the Paris Opera House, has the opportunity to become obsessed with a promising young woman by the name of Christine Daae. Over the course of the novel, the Phantom’s actions grow in both scope and menace; he begins with training Christine’s voice and harassing the Opera staff, and progresses to kidnapping Christine and causing a fatal accident involving the grand chandelier.
Equally difficult to categorize is the case of the Phantom himself; he is arguably the main character, perhaps more so than Miss Daae. The Phantom, or Erik, as he is known—he is quoted by Christine as saying that “he had neither a name nor a country and that he had taken the name Erik ‘by chance’ (p. 167)”—is portrayed as a hideous character who somehow maintains a darkly romantic air. This impression is cultivated by his volatile demeanour, his luring of Christine to the catacombs with the intention of wooing her, and the disquieting cast of his extraordinary musical talents.
However, the reader often finds it very difficult to condemn such a character, despite the ugliness in both his personality and his physical form. Leroux manages to depict Erik as such an astonishingly sympathetic creature that we find ourselves torn between which individual to cheer for—do we support the dashing, innocent, Romeo-like Raoul, the young Vicomte in love with Christine…or do we support Erik, the dangerous, pitiable, Mephistopheles-like madman?
The Phantom Of The Opera forces us to think outside fiction’s usual black and white world of heroes and villains. Raoul is certainly no hero, in the strictest sense of the term: he is a foppish, somewhat undeveloped character, who is not a particularly great font of knowledge or bravery. Erik, it goes without stating, is no hero, but we cannot bring ourselves to slot him uncompromisingly into to the role of a villain.
One may view the Phantom in many lights. Two of the brightest lights tend to belong to opposite views. On one hand, Erik is thought of as a psychologically damaged figure, an individual who lashes out due to helplessness and frustration rather than true malevolence; to be pitied, not condemned. On the other, Erik is seen as a serial madman, someone who kills and manipulates without the guidance of a moral center. In the first, he is thought of as a poor monster; in the second, simply a monster. Erik seems to belong to that difficult class of fictional creatures known as ‘sympathetic monsters’—including such literary giants as Dr. Frankenstein’s patchwork creation—a class which is defined by monstrous appearance and/or behaviour combined with contagiously redeemable tendencies and a strong moral base. He is a living contradiction: his angelic voice against his grotesque appearance, his child-like simplicity against his abusive actions, and his twisted ways of showing undying devotion to Christine.
Equally stubborn to pin down is the Vicomte Raoul; his naïve reactions are often violent in their lack of proportion to the events unfolding—in the name of love, he regularly breaks into Christine’s dressing room, and he threatens repeatedly to kill the Phantom with a schoolboy’s flair for dramatic proclamations. All of Leroux’s primary characters in this novel, including the immature yet surprisingly astute Christine, seem—to paraphrase Walt Whitman—to “contain multitudes.”
We discover, as Christine does, that neither her Angel of Music—the “Voice” which anonymously teaches her to sing—nor the fabled ghost of the Opera House are superhuman entities; rather, “…the Voice, the Voice I had recognized behind the mask that hadn’t been able to hide it from me, was what now knelt in front of me: a man! (p. 162)” Erik is human, prone—perhaps more than the rest of us, due to the conditions his disfigurations forced him to live in—to fits of rage and malcontent. This does not excuse him from his propensity to solve problems with brute force or psychological trickery, but it does make the balance of his virtues and faults somewhat more ambiguous.
The German philosopher Theodor Adorno once said that “the highest form of morality is not to feel at home in one’s home.” One may interpret this with the implication that the greatest novels are the ones that make us question what we take for granted; if this is the case, then Leroux has produced a masterful work in The Phantom Of The Opera. The reader is forced to reassess previously held assumptions about whether monsters can also be heroes; at what point, if any, is crime excusable; and whether a person can exist simply to redeem another.
The Nature of Good and Evil: Character Traits In The Phantom Of The Opera
An Analysis of The Phantom Of The Opera by Gaston Leroux
(All quotations and page numbers from October 2008 Bantam Classics paperback reissue, translated by Lowell Bair.)
The Phantom of the Opera is a difficult novel to categorize. Is it a ghost story? A romance? A mystery? At its core, it is the story of a disfigured musical genius who, by virtue of his residence in the catacombs below the Paris Opera House, has the opportunity to become obsessed with a promising young woman by the name of Christine Daae. Over the course of the novel, the Phantom’s actions grow in both scope and menace; he begins with training Christine’s voice and harassing the Opera staff, and progresses to kidnapping Christine and causing a fatal accident involving the grand chandelier.
Equally difficult to categorize is the case of the Phantom himself; he is arguably the main character, perhaps more so than Miss Daae. The Phantom, or Erik, as he is known—he is quoted by Christine as saying that “he had neither a name nor a country and that he had taken the name Erik ‘by chance’ (p. 167)”—is portrayed as a hideous character who somehow maintains a darkly romantic air. This impression is cultivated by his volatile demeanour, his luring of Christine to the catacombs with the intention of wooing her, and the disquieting cast of his extraordinary musical talents.
However, the reader often finds it very difficult to condemn such a character, despite the ugliness in both his personality and his physical form. Leroux manages to depict Erik as such an astonishingly sympathetic creature that we find ourselves torn between which individual to cheer for—do we support the dashing, innocent, Romeo-like Raoul, the young Vicomte in love with Christine…or do we support Erik, the dangerous, pitiable, Mephistopheles-like madman?
The Phantom Of The Opera forces us to think outside fiction’s usual black and white world of heroes and villains. Raoul is certainly no hero, in the strictest sense of the term: he is a foppish, somewhat undeveloped character, who is not a particularly great font of knowledge or bravery. Erik, it goes without stating, is no hero, but we cannot bring ourselves to slot him uncompromisingly into to the role of a villain.
One may view the Phantom in many lights. Two of the brightest lights tend to belong to opposite views. On one hand, Erik is thought of as a psychologically damaged figure, an individual who lashes out due to helplessness and frustration rather than true malevolence; to be pitied, not condemned. On the other, Erik is seen as a serial madman, someone who kills and manipulates without the guidance of a moral center. In the first, he is thought of as a poor monster; in the second, simply a monster. Erik seems to belong to that difficult class of fictional creatures known as ‘sympathetic monsters’—including such literary giants as Dr. Frankenstein’s patchwork creation—a class which is defined by monstrous appearance and/or behaviour combined with contagiously redeemable tendencies and a strong moral base. He is a living contradiction: his angelic voice against his grotesque appearance, his child-like simplicity against his abusive actions, and his twisted ways of showing undying devotion to Christine.
Equally stubborn to pin down is the Vicomte Raoul; his naïve reactions are often violent in their lack of proportion to the events unfolding—in the name of love, he regularly breaks into Christine’s dressing room, and he threatens repeatedly to kill the Phantom with a schoolboy’s flair for dramatic proclamations. All of Leroux’s primary characters in this novel, including the immature yet surprisingly astute Christine, seem—to paraphrase Walt Whitman—to “contain multitudes.”
We discover, as Christine does, that neither her Angel of Music—the “Voice” which anonymously teaches her to sing—nor the fabled ghost of the Opera House are superhuman entities; rather, “…the Voice, the Voice I had recognized behind the mask that hadn’t been able to hide it from me, was what now knelt in front of me: a man! (p. 162)” Erik is human, prone—perhaps more than the rest of us, due to the conditions his disfigurations forced him to live in—to fits of rage and malcontent. This does not excuse him from his propensity to solve problems with brute force or psychological trickery, but it does make the balance of his virtues and faults somewhat more ambiguous.
The German philosopher Theodor Adorno once said that “the highest form of morality is not to feel at home in one’s home.” One may interpret this with the implication that the greatest novels are the ones that make us question what we take for granted; if this is the case, then Leroux has produced a masterful work in The Phantom Of The Opera. The reader is forced to reassess previously held assumptions about whether monsters can also be heroes; at what point, if any, is crime excusable; and whether a person can exist simply to redeem another.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Anyone Miss Me?
After almost a two-week hiatus, the Storyteller has returned.
Reasons for my absence on the internet? Batshit insanity. And I'm not just saying that. It was the most epic, baffling, extraordinary case of schedule planning fail I have ever heard of.
While working two jobs and attempting to finish five studio-quality paintings in approximately one month, I also attended four lengthy and often medically-related appointments, one parade (somewhat miraculously, I must admit, after the events mentioned in my cancellation e-mail), and completely rehauled my SIDES courses. Even worse, the only two days I worked or am about to work eight hour shifts were a) a day I really, really needed for painting progress, and b) a day I really, really need to complete the entrance assignment for my new course. Go figure.
Other events worth mentioning that occurred during the hiatus:
***************
The Gay Pride Parade was all the more awesome because I honestly didn't think I'd be able to see it this year. I wore only a bikini top and booty shorts, and danced behind the last float with a mobile mosh pit of lesbians. Also, I had my picture taken with the individual who belts tunes from the last float every year -- I don't know if she's just a great singer who supports gay rights, or a flamboyant lesbian, or a post-op drag queen, but whatever she is, she's amazing.
Frolicking with Boss #2 in general (after he surprise-tickled me to alert me of his presence) and the time the two of us snuck behind the massage tent to take a picture of the awesome old bearded cross dresser was far too entertaining. I wish Gay Pride events happened more often. I am consoled by the fact that next year, I can legally go to all the drag shows and after-parties.
***************
ART SHOW INFORMATION:
The show technically begins on Friday the 10th at 6pm, but that night is only open to the artisans themselves. From July 11th to August 26th, from 10am to 4pm every day, the public is both welcomed and encouraged to attend, enjoy, and purchase, if the desire arises.
I have on display five original pieces, priced from $95 to $145 (mostly judging on size, the largest being 16x20 inches). All of the pieces are acrylic on canvas; they include hardware for hanging, pre-installed by myself. The fact that I have pieces in the show shouldn't be your only reason to show up, however -- I have seen a good selection of the other pieces, and they are spectacular: paintings, carvings, glass work, textiles, jewelry, and more.
If you want to visit while I'm in attendance, I am the artist-in-residence on these days:
JULY 12TH, 12:30 to 4
AUGUST 2ND, 12:30 to 4
AUGUST 23RD, 12:30 to 4
*******************
A news blurb, for those who like to be caught up to the minutiae.
READING:
* Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson. (I picked this one up solely because the title sounded like 'Necronomicon', but I am rabidly enjoying it. Seriously. It's like an unselfconscious nod to Ulysses that is actually coherent and doesn't involve several degrees to find the humorous references.)
* Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.
* One Lovecraft collection or another. I lost track.
* The End of the Story, a Clark Ashton Smith collection.
* 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.
WRITING:
I have been veritably ambushed by two new short stories. After I bullshit my way through the new activation assignment for EngLit, I'll see about writing them up -- as well as finishing that one from a couple months back. (This will involve reviewing my knowledge of Jacobean English, so I've been understandably stymied about its completion.)
For the curious, Short Number One is a convoluted nod to both Sarah Monette's Khloïdanikos concept and Lovecraft's general tone and mythos. Short Number Two is the narrative of an individual the Devil sets out to corrupt -- via, um, less than PG-13 means. Don't necessarily think that means the story is full of sex... because it's full of other blasphemies, and not all of them are pretty. It's still a pretty light and rewarding tale, for all that.
ART:
I have nothing.
Oh, well, since you mention it, my attention has been a little focused on those five paintings for the show -- but no, I can't see any reason why you'd think I haven't sketched at all recently...!
SCHOOL:
I've really mentioned all the necessary pieces of this section.
JOBS:
Doing very well at both. Exciting things may be happening at one, but I don't want to say too much about that until it actually happens. You know the sort of thing. To the three people I have mentioned it to, two of whom read this blog, I know you what I mean more than most.
BRAIN:
Unbalanced in both pleasant and unpleasant ways. Balanced in both pleasant and unpleasant ways. Can you tell I've been a little crazy, lately? More than usual, I mean.
THINGS TO DO:
Clean room, organize books, make an art post, do schoolwork, drink more water,take over the world look sexy while performing ridiculous acts.
HUMOR:
I find it very amusing that several spell-checks want me to correct "Cthulhu" to "Catholic". Almost as entertaining as the time MS Word wanted me to change "Tolkien" to "Volkswagen."
MUSIC:
If one does not listen to "Staying Alive" for a year after being raised on the Bee Gees, one cannot help doing the Chair Dance while singing along in a falsetto that startles the shit out of sleeping cats.
EXCITING THINGS:
It rained most of today. It's July. This winter child is very, very content.
OTHER:
The jar is still open, and will remain open despite my current inability/lack of time with which to create/post poetry. I still squeak with glee every time I see people dropping spare change in there, as seldom as that is, considering how infrequently any member of the Serious Crew (let alone the whole) has been in attendance. I doubt this lack-of-groups or lack-of-Serious-Crew will change in the near future, simply factoring the sheer busyness level going on in my life -- even now that the art show prep and most of the medical appointments are under my belt, I still have plenty of commitments on my hands with two jobs and a first-year-university-by-correspondence-English-Literature-course to undertake. So it goes. I've been content as a hermit, thus far. I hope this doesn't sound like an insult to my readers. Hermitage is my nature!
****************
Now, to choose between reading and room organization before I go to bed. Room organization is a priority, but after the month I've had, I think the more relaxing of the two will win out. C'est la vie.
Being unable to find her pajama pants, and equally unable to relax in anything with a belt, Bryi vanishes to the faint rustle of skirts and the pad of bare feet.
Reasons for my absence on the internet? Batshit insanity. And I'm not just saying that. It was the most epic, baffling, extraordinary case of schedule planning fail I have ever heard of.
While working two jobs and attempting to finish five studio-quality paintings in approximately one month, I also attended four lengthy and often medically-related appointments, one parade (somewhat miraculously, I must admit, after the events mentioned in my cancellation e-mail), and completely rehauled my SIDES courses. Even worse, the only two days I worked or am about to work eight hour shifts were a) a day I really, really needed for painting progress, and b) a day I really, really need to complete the entrance assignment for my new course. Go figure.
Other events worth mentioning that occurred during the hiatus:
- Began knitting a hat;
- Completed (!) five paintings (!!!) for Artisans 2009 (more info about that later);
- Learned how to make authentic quill pens from a member of the Pacific Association for Recreating the Middle Ages;
- Learned that, after actually managing to sneak up on a crow and pull a tail feather that crow feathers make utterly lousy quills;
- Read excessive amounts of Lovecraft;
- Blew up over one hundred balloons in six hours (109 of those were before 10:30am, and the first order involved me arriving at the Dollar Store an hour and a half before we opened just to get the order ready);
- Did stuff to my hair (aka, this is a "you'll see it when you see it" situation);
- Acquired yet another Lovecraft-related plush toy;
- Acquired a vintage World War II gas mask manufactured in Canada;
- Acquired a new bookshelf (thank Zombie Jesus, hail Eris, and may Cthulhu eat my soul if I don't get those books off my floor really soon);
- Acquired far too many books (wow how surprising);
- Did not get enough sleep.
***************
The Gay Pride Parade was all the more awesome because I honestly didn't think I'd be able to see it this year. I wore only a bikini top and booty shorts, and danced behind the last float with a mobile mosh pit of lesbians. Also, I had my picture taken with the individual who belts tunes from the last float every year -- I don't know if she's just a great singer who supports gay rights, or a flamboyant lesbian, or a post-op drag queen, but whatever she is, she's amazing.
Frolicking with Boss #2 in general (after he surprise-tickled me to alert me of his presence) and the time the two of us snuck behind the massage tent to take a picture of the awesome old bearded cross dresser was far too entertaining. I wish Gay Pride events happened more often. I am consoled by the fact that next year, I can legally go to all the drag shows and after-parties.
***************
ART SHOW INFORMATION:
The show technically begins on Friday the 10th at 6pm, but that night is only open to the artisans themselves. From July 11th to August 26th, from 10am to 4pm every day, the public is both welcomed and encouraged to attend, enjoy, and purchase, if the desire arises.
I have on display five original pieces, priced from $95 to $145 (mostly judging on size, the largest being 16x20 inches). All of the pieces are acrylic on canvas; they include hardware for hanging, pre-installed by myself. The fact that I have pieces in the show shouldn't be your only reason to show up, however -- I have seen a good selection of the other pieces, and they are spectacular: paintings, carvings, glass work, textiles, jewelry, and more.
If you want to visit while I'm in attendance, I am the artist-in-residence on these days:
JULY 12TH, 12:30 to 4
AUGUST 2ND, 12:30 to 4
AUGUST 23RD, 12:30 to 4
*******************
A news blurb, for those who like to be caught up to the minutiae.
READING:
* Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson. (I picked this one up solely because the title sounded like 'Necronomicon', but I am rabidly enjoying it. Seriously. It's like an unselfconscious nod to Ulysses that is actually coherent and doesn't involve several degrees to find the humorous references.)
* Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.
* One Lovecraft collection or another. I lost track.
* The End of the Story, a Clark Ashton Smith collection.
* 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.
WRITING:
I have been veritably ambushed by two new short stories. After I bullshit my way through the new activation assignment for EngLit, I'll see about writing them up -- as well as finishing that one from a couple months back. (This will involve reviewing my knowledge of Jacobean English, so I've been understandably stymied about its completion.)
For the curious, Short Number One is a convoluted nod to both Sarah Monette's Khloïdanikos concept and Lovecraft's general tone and mythos. Short Number Two is the narrative of an individual the Devil sets out to corrupt -- via, um, less than PG-13 means. Don't necessarily think that means the story is full of sex... because it's full of other blasphemies, and not all of them are pretty. It's still a pretty light and rewarding tale, for all that.
ART:
I have nothing.
Oh, well, since you mention it, my attention has been a little focused on those five paintings for the show -- but no, I can't see any reason why you'd think I haven't sketched at all recently...!
SCHOOL:
I've really mentioned all the necessary pieces of this section.
JOBS:
Doing very well at both. Exciting things may be happening at one, but I don't want to say too much about that until it actually happens. You know the sort of thing. To the three people I have mentioned it to, two of whom read this blog, I know you what I mean more than most.
BRAIN:
Unbalanced in both pleasant and unpleasant ways. Balanced in both pleasant and unpleasant ways. Can you tell I've been a little crazy, lately? More than usual, I mean.
THINGS TO DO:
Clean room, organize books, make an art post, do schoolwork, drink more water,
HUMOR:
I find it very amusing that several spell-checks want me to correct "Cthulhu" to "Catholic". Almost as entertaining as the time MS Word wanted me to change "Tolkien" to "Volkswagen."
MUSIC:
If one does not listen to "Staying Alive" for a year after being raised on the Bee Gees, one cannot help doing the Chair Dance while singing along in a falsetto that startles the shit out of sleeping cats.
EXCITING THINGS:
It rained most of today. It's July. This winter child is very, very content.
OTHER:
The jar is still open, and will remain open despite my current inability/lack of time with which to create/post poetry. I still squeak with glee every time I see people dropping spare change in there, as seldom as that is, considering how infrequently any member of the Serious Crew (let alone the whole) has been in attendance. I doubt this lack-of-groups or lack-of-Serious-Crew will change in the near future, simply factoring the sheer busyness level going on in my life -- even now that the art show prep and most of the medical appointments are under my belt, I still have plenty of commitments on my hands with two jobs and a first-year-university-by-correspondence-English-Literature-course to undertake. So it goes. I've been content as a hermit, thus far. I hope this doesn't sound like an insult to my readers. Hermitage is my nature!
****************
Now, to choose between reading and room organization before I go to bed. Room organization is a priority, but after the month I've had, I think the more relaxing of the two will win out. C'est la vie.
Being unable to find her pajama pants, and equally unable to relax in anything with a belt, Bryi vanishes to the faint rustle of skirts and the pad of bare feet.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
To-Do List
Finish rainbow canvas Blueline eye onto rainbow canvas Finish Through A Different Lense, touch up Finish and touch up Cocksure Finish and touch up Butterflies Are Free, Moths Are Liberated Finish and touch up Nouveau Sky Finish and touch up Chasing Havilah Take photo for Artist Bio Write Artist Bio Go into Community Arts Centre BEFORE July 3rd for volunteer information and inventory tweaking Sign all paintings Take detailed photos of all paintings Make inventory signs (include number and title) Bring in paintings and inventory signs on July 6thDONE!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Postcard From The Internet
We could use an update post around here, because things are about to get pleasantly crazy.
READING:
* Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
* The Cloister And The Hearth by Charles Reade
* The Confessions Of Saint Augustine translated and edited by Albert Outler
* A History of God by Karen Armstrong (yes, still!)
Also switching between reading The Portable Nietzsche and The Portable Marx. Augh, brain is breaking.
WRITING:
Head-space is still being taken over by amorphous project along the lines of "steampunk alternate-history Vatican." The priests, they have kidnapped me.
Also, Burnt In Stone developed a tragic twist near the end that made me all kinds of sad when I stumbled on it two nights ago. In loose terms, staying in the Palace means long life, even immortality if you're lucky -- one of the characters who I expected most to stay, in fact, does not, and is implied to have lived an average life, dying of old age. Had to be one of my favorite people, too. Figures. The best novels always rip your heart out!
ART:
One new sketch, a personal one.
PAINTING PROGRESS:
Cocksure: 85% complete. Down to the nitty gritty details now.
Nouveau Sky: 45% complete. Skin pretty much done, hair needs shading, background not begun.
Touching-Knowing: Still at whatever percentage I graded it at last time. Ugh.
Paper Faces On Parade: 40% done. Background almost complete, foreground not begun.
JOBS:
I could have worked eight hours yesterday, but for some reason, half-awake, I thought it was Wednesday and that I had an appointment or chores or something that prevented me from coming in early -- half an hour later, during breakfast, I slapped myself in the face when I realized it was in fact Tuesday and I was free both days. It worked out well, I guess, because I got a lot of work done on the paintings and scheduled an appointment at SIDES, but still. I feel bad for turning Boss #1 down on false (albeit unknowingly false) pretenses.
SCHOOLWORK:
Speaking of SIDES, I will be starting Advanced Placement English Literature 12 very shortly. After finishing prep for the art show, AP Lit and the final dregs of Comp Civ will be occupying every waking hour not devoted to jobs, showering, eating, or minimum safe relaxation time. Hooyah.
EXCITING THINGS:
Phantom: A Novel of His Life by Susan Kay arrived in the mail today, in rather excellent condition for not having any padding whatsoever in shipping, which makes me very happy. If I can muster the energy, I'm going to go Brodart it at Job #2 before I go to Job #1.
Also, zeppelinphan is dragging me down to the City on Sunday to make me buy a nice dress for a friend's grad next year before I can change my mind.
Also also, I work eight hours on Canada Day, so I get time-and-a-half. Yay, money! Especially considering that I just made an order from Chapters, money will be well appreciated. (Hey, I wasn't going to pass up an offer for eight books for $40. Even if they're crap, I can still get credit for them at any number of used book stores.)
STUPID THINGS:
One of my contact lenses had a hissy fit yesterday, so I had to go through my entire shift wearing my very-nice-glasses with the not-so-nice-and-actually-rather-outdated-perscription.
HUMOR:
A few of you may recall when Muse told that story about the guy who got a bar code tattoo for personal reasons. The guy worked at Home Depot, so he scanned his tattoo one day out of curiosity, and found out that he was a six-inch claw hammer.
I was in the loading dock, doing inventory with Edna yesterday, when I pulled out one of the boxes and started fighting very hard not to laugh. The skid we were inventorying was mostly hardware -- and that particular box was marked as "six inch claw hammers." Now, when I put them on the shelf, I get to find out what claw hammers actually are...!
MISC:
I may have a super-secret surprise coming up that a couple people know about. I don't need to ask people to keep quiet about it, seeing as I haven't said much about it nor the fact that I want it to be a surprise if it does happen, so those who suspect what it is may be thinking of any one of three things.
TWITTER:
That is not poetic license in my last tweet: I actually did run around without a shirt on (accompanied in shirtlessness by zeppelinphan, Shanzie, and a non-Blogger friend, as well as several others who opted to keep their shirts on) in the forests and fields behind what used to be Greenglade School. Afterwards I drank lovely, if luke-warm, honey lager, then proceeded to go home and read The Call Of Cthulhu in bed before passing out for eight hours. Good times! I did have a out-at-night-with-teenagers induced panic attack at one point, in Tulista Park, but fifteen minutes hiding in a polymer tube on the playground fixed that.
Until next time,
Your friendly neighborhood Bryi.
READING:
* Heart Of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
* The Cloister And The Hearth by Charles Reade
* The Confessions Of Saint Augustine translated and edited by Albert Outler
* A History of God by Karen Armstrong (yes, still!)
Also switching between reading The Portable Nietzsche and The Portable Marx. Augh, brain is breaking.
WRITING:
Head-space is still being taken over by amorphous project along the lines of "steampunk alternate-history Vatican." The priests, they have kidnapped me.
Also, Burnt In Stone developed a tragic twist near the end that made me all kinds of sad when I stumbled on it two nights ago. In loose terms, staying in the Palace means long life, even immortality if you're lucky -- one of the characters who I expected most to stay, in fact, does not, and is implied to have lived an average life, dying of old age. Had to be one of my favorite people, too. Figures. The best novels always rip your heart out!
ART:
One new sketch, a personal one.
PAINTING PROGRESS:
Cocksure: 85% complete. Down to the nitty gritty details now.
Nouveau Sky: 45% complete. Skin pretty much done, hair needs shading, background not begun.
Touching-Knowing: Still at whatever percentage I graded it at last time. Ugh.
Paper Faces On Parade: 40% done. Background almost complete, foreground not begun.
JOBS:
I could have worked eight hours yesterday, but for some reason, half-awake, I thought it was Wednesday and that I had an appointment or chores or something that prevented me from coming in early -- half an hour later, during breakfast, I slapped myself in the face when I realized it was in fact Tuesday and I was free both days. It worked out well, I guess, because I got a lot of work done on the paintings and scheduled an appointment at SIDES, but still. I feel bad for turning Boss #1 down on false (albeit unknowingly false) pretenses.
SCHOOLWORK:
Speaking of SIDES, I will be starting Advanced Placement English Literature 12 very shortly. After finishing prep for the art show, AP Lit and the final dregs of Comp Civ will be occupying every waking hour not devoted to jobs, showering, eating, or minimum safe relaxation time. Hooyah.
EXCITING THINGS:
Phantom: A Novel of His Life by Susan Kay arrived in the mail today, in rather excellent condition for not having any padding whatsoever in shipping, which makes me very happy. If I can muster the energy, I'm going to go Brodart it at Job #2 before I go to Job #1.
Also, zeppelinphan is dragging me down to the City on Sunday to make me buy a nice dress for a friend's grad next year before I can change my mind.
Also also, I work eight hours on Canada Day, so I get time-and-a-half. Yay, money! Especially considering that I just made an order from Chapters, money will be well appreciated. (Hey, I wasn't going to pass up an offer for eight books for $40. Even if they're crap, I can still get credit for them at any number of used book stores.)
STUPID THINGS:
One of my contact lenses had a hissy fit yesterday, so I had to go through my entire shift wearing my very-nice-glasses with the not-so-nice-and-actually-rather-outdated-perscription.
HUMOR:
A few of you may recall when Muse told that story about the guy who got a bar code tattoo for personal reasons. The guy worked at Home Depot, so he scanned his tattoo one day out of curiosity, and found out that he was a six-inch claw hammer.
I was in the loading dock, doing inventory with Edna yesterday, when I pulled out one of the boxes and started fighting very hard not to laugh. The skid we were inventorying was mostly hardware -- and that particular box was marked as "six inch claw hammers." Now, when I put them on the shelf, I get to find out what claw hammers actually are...!
MISC:
I may have a super-secret surprise coming up that a couple people know about. I don't need to ask people to keep quiet about it, seeing as I haven't said much about it nor the fact that I want it to be a surprise if it does happen, so those who suspect what it is may be thinking of any one of three things.
TWITTER:
That is not poetic license in my last tweet: I actually did run around without a shirt on (accompanied in shirtlessness by zeppelinphan, Shanzie, and a non-Blogger friend, as well as several others who opted to keep their shirts on) in the forests and fields behind what used to be Greenglade School. Afterwards I drank lovely, if luke-warm, honey lager, then proceeded to go home and read The Call Of Cthulhu in bed before passing out for eight hours. Good times! I did have a out-at-night-with-teenagers induced panic attack at one point, in Tulista Park, but fifteen minutes hiding in a polymer tube on the playground fixed that.
Until next time,
Your friendly neighborhood Bryi.
Friday, June 19, 2009
100% Homosexual Content
Boss Man: "Damn, I thought we had wrapping paper. Does your dollar store have wrapping paper? We should wrap this because the guy is buying it as a gift for his lady friend."
Bryi: "Yup. I can get a discount, too."
Boss Man shoves a twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "Wrapping paper! And change for the till!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
British Coworker: "Hullo! How are you!"
Owner Man: "What are you looking for?"
Bryi: "Other boss wants wrapping paper!"
British Coworker: "Next time we're working together I want to see all of your tattoos!"
Bryi: "Okay!"
Bryi runs back to antique store with wrapping paper.
Boss Man: "That is the gayest wrapping paper I have ever seen."
Bryi: "We were out of the nice Victorian patterns, and it's for a lady, right?"
Boss Man: "Yes, that is true. That's okay. But it doesn't fit in the only small box I have! Does your dollar store have gift boxes?"
Bryi: "Yup. I think they're the perfect size, too."
Boss Man shoves another twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "More change!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
British Coworker: "Back so soon?"
Bryi: "Need a box!"
Bryi runs back over to the antique store.
Boss Man: "Okay, that's perfect. Kind of clashes with the wrapping paper though. Maybe we don't need to wrap it."
Bryi: "You know, it's funny. The wrapping paper selection was so girly -- flowers and cartoon characters and shit. But the boxes were all so manly! This pattern was the next best thing to golf tees!"
Boss Man: *rofl*
LATER:
Boss Man: "You know, this box could do with something sparkly in it to match the bottle. You know those things, they're small, and come in packages with hundreds of them in it, and they're shiny..."
Bryi: "...confetti?"
Boss Man: "Yeah! That! Does your dollar store--"
Bryi: "Yup. How about gold stars?"
Boss Man shoves a twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "Change!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Kay: "Oh hi!"
Bryi: "Hi! I need confetti for my other boss. I've been in here two times already buying stuff to wrap a $300 perfume bottle!"
Kay: o_o
Bryi: "See you later!"
Bryi runs back to antique store.
Boss Man: "Oh, perfect! Let's glue some on the outside too."
Epic session of gluing gold confetti stars to gift box using ancient liquid Elmer's glue commences.
Bryi: "You know, we're giving all these foreign tourists the impression that this is what Canadian antiques dealers do with their days.
Boss Man: Ha ha!
Boss Man drops stars everywhere.
Bryi: "Well, now the floor is sparkly too."
Boss Man: "The store is very gay."
Bryi: "100% homosexual content!"
Boss Man: *rofl*
FIVE MINUTES LATER:
Boss Man: "I'm hungry. You know what I'm craving right now? Barbeque chips. Does your--"
Bryi: "Yup. 75 cents a bag."
Boss Man is about to shove a twenty under Bryi's nose, pauses, laughs, gives her a five instead.
Boss Man: "No change! Buy chips!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Owner Man: "Omg, are you back again??"
Bryi: "Other boss wants potato chips!"
Owner Man: "Boss wants potato chips... I'll have to remember that... boss wants -- Lady Boss! I want a Blizzard!"
Lady Boss: "Hi Bryi! Did you say something about ice cream?"
Owner Man: "I want you to buy me a Blizzard."
Lady Boss: "The brownie batter ones are soooo good!"
Bryi: "I have not tried one. Must do so. Mmm, chocolate."
Owner Man: "Blizzard!"
Lady Boss: "I thought you wanted your back room organized!"
Bryi: "Gotta go!"
Owner Man: "Will you be back?"
Bryi: "Not unless he wants soda next...!"
Bryi runs back to the antique store.
Boss Man: "Yay, chips! Did you get some for yourself?"
Boss Man looks at the bag Bryi is holding.
Boss Man: "Oh, All Un-Dressed."
Bryi: *dies*
FIVE MINUTES LATER STILL:
Bryi: "Oh crap, I have to go tell Kay that she pressed the wrong button. Their cash-out might be messed up if I don't tell them."
Boss Man: "Go forth!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Owner Man: "Ha ha, soda?"
Bryi: "Flukey reciept, actually."
Kay and Owner Man: "Yay, thank you! Bye!"
Bryi runs back to antique store.
Boss Man: "At least you're getting your exercise."
**********
And I haven't even recounted all the times Boss Man checked out male customers and asked me which one I thought had the cutest butt, or all the times I fielded his phone calls with clever white lies because he didn't want to talk to anyone.
Never a dull day!
Bryi: "Yup. I can get a discount, too."
Boss Man shoves a twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "Wrapping paper! And change for the till!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
British Coworker: "Hullo! How are you!"
Owner Man: "What are you looking for?"
Bryi: "Other boss wants wrapping paper!"
British Coworker: "Next time we're working together I want to see all of your tattoos!"
Bryi: "Okay!"
Bryi runs back to antique store with wrapping paper.
Boss Man: "That is the gayest wrapping paper I have ever seen."
Bryi: "We were out of the nice Victorian patterns, and it's for a lady, right?"
Boss Man: "Yes, that is true. That's okay. But it doesn't fit in the only small box I have! Does your dollar store have gift boxes?"
Bryi: "Yup. I think they're the perfect size, too."
Boss Man shoves another twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "More change!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
British Coworker: "Back so soon?"
Bryi: "Need a box!"
Bryi runs back over to the antique store.
Boss Man: "Okay, that's perfect. Kind of clashes with the wrapping paper though. Maybe we don't need to wrap it."
Bryi: "You know, it's funny. The wrapping paper selection was so girly -- flowers and cartoon characters and shit. But the boxes were all so manly! This pattern was the next best thing to golf tees!"
Boss Man: *rofl*
LATER:
Boss Man: "You know, this box could do with something sparkly in it to match the bottle. You know those things, they're small, and come in packages with hundreds of them in it, and they're shiny..."
Bryi: "...confetti?"
Boss Man: "Yeah! That! Does your dollar store--"
Bryi: "Yup. How about gold stars?"
Boss Man shoves a twenty under Bryi's nose.
Boss Man: "Change!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Kay: "Oh hi!"
Bryi: "Hi! I need confetti for my other boss. I've been in here two times already buying stuff to wrap a $300 perfume bottle!"
Kay: o_o
Bryi: "See you later!"
Bryi runs back to antique store.
Boss Man: "Oh, perfect! Let's glue some on the outside too."
Epic session of gluing gold confetti stars to gift box using ancient liquid Elmer's glue commences.
Bryi: "You know, we're giving all these foreign tourists the impression that this is what Canadian antiques dealers do with their days.
Boss Man: Ha ha!
Boss Man drops stars everywhere.
Bryi: "Well, now the floor is sparkly too."
Boss Man: "The store is very gay."
Bryi: "100% homosexual content!"
Boss Man: *rofl*
FIVE MINUTES LATER:
Boss Man: "I'm hungry. You know what I'm craving right now? Barbeque chips. Does your--"
Bryi: "Yup. 75 cents a bag."
Boss Man is about to shove a twenty under Bryi's nose, pauses, laughs, gives her a five instead.
Boss Man: "No change! Buy chips!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Owner Man: "Omg, are you back again??"
Bryi: "Other boss wants potato chips!"
Owner Man: "Boss wants potato chips... I'll have to remember that... boss wants -- Lady Boss! I want a Blizzard!"
Lady Boss: "Hi Bryi! Did you say something about ice cream?"
Owner Man: "I want you to buy me a Blizzard."
Lady Boss: "The brownie batter ones are soooo good!"
Bryi: "I have not tried one. Must do so. Mmm, chocolate."
Owner Man: "Blizzard!"
Lady Boss: "I thought you wanted your back room organized!"
Bryi: "Gotta go!"
Owner Man: "Will you be back?"
Bryi: "Not unless he wants soda next...!"
Bryi runs back to the antique store.
Boss Man: "Yay, chips! Did you get some for yourself?"
Boss Man looks at the bag Bryi is holding.
Boss Man: "Oh, All Un-Dressed."
Bryi: *dies*
FIVE MINUTES LATER STILL:
Bryi: "Oh crap, I have to go tell Kay that she pressed the wrong button. Their cash-out might be messed up if I don't tell them."
Boss Man: "Go forth!"
Bryi runs over to the dollar store.
Owner Man: "Ha ha, soda?"
Bryi: "Flukey reciept, actually."
Kay and Owner Man: "Yay, thank you! Bye!"
Bryi runs back to antique store.
Boss Man: "At least you're getting your exercise."
**********
And I haven't even recounted all the times Boss Man checked out male customers and asked me which one I thought had the cutest butt, or all the times I fielded his phone calls with clever white lies because he didn't want to talk to anyone.
Never a dull day!
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