i am not dead.

I promise that I am still present in the blogosphere, and that I am, in fact, alive.  Real posts are on the way!


In the meantime, enjoy this picture of a mama llama and her almost-brand-new baby llama. :)

colourful february

Even when February is mild, like ours has been (for the most part), the colours are always so drab and depressing.  At its best, the grass is soggy, brown, and yellow.  There is mud everywhere.  No leaves, no flowers.  Leftover slush.  In other words, yuck.  At least it's not blizzarding, I suppose.  In any case, I thought I'd bring a splash (literally) of colour into our lives this February, with a few shots from an experiment my younger brother showed us. Basically, you take a bowl of milk, drop in some food colouring, add a little dish soap in the middle, and voila, a beautiful swirly pattern is formed.  It even looked nice when we dumped it all out!

a smashing good time

I am a memory collecting addict.  Yes, I am one of those people who keeps almost everything I pick up -- generally paper things though.  Business cards from artists, pamphlets and brochures, tickets from concerts, plays, and movies.  I kept the majority of the notes passed to me in boring high school classes, photobooth pictures, letters from penpals, Valentines from friends and my brothers that harken back to the '90s.  I'm also a journaler, and even though there are those inevitable gaps of a month or two here and there, I've regularly journaled since eighth grade, making that...about eight years.  There are a few problems with this though.  The first is that I have memory box upon memory box that stand in teetering stacks in the basement and in my room (and trust me, there is not nearly enough room in either place for the number of boxes I have).  The other problem is that I've been very concerned about journaling with a "traditional look".  That means cursive writing in black pen only.  Of course I've tucked little keepsakes into the pages, like pressed flowers and leaves, subway tickets from Montreal, even a Yugioh card from a little boy at a camp I counselled.  I realized that as much as I love bygone eras, I'm not a part of them.  Of course I still draw influence from them, but there are plenty of things from my own generation that I love.  And when I came across these Smash Journals, which are essentially a notebook meant to keep all of those bits of ephemera in one place, I thought that this was the perfect opportunity to get out of my left-brained journaling rut, condense my memory boxes, and have a place to collect memories of my own time.  I have to say, that while I'm not nearly as messy (the good kind of messsy) when it comes to scrapbooking as a lot of other people, the fact that I'm overlapping corners is a big step for me.  Plus, there are so many cool products, like journaling spots, date stamps, funky tape, and pockets from Smash that it makes it that much more fun!  So here's a few of the pages I've been working on in the past couple weeks!

the voracious reader

As I'm sure everyone knows, I love to read.  But every now and then, I go through a phase where all I want to do is read, and that isn't really an exaggeration.  Usually it starts when I come across a really good book, and I motor my way through it, until I'm left with that deflated feeling of, "Now what?"  Because you know, I have a hard time slowing down when a book is exciting, so it's always over much too soon.  So then I go hunting for another really good book, and when I finish that one, I look for another, and the cycle continues on and on into oblivion until I've read myself out and take a bit of a break.  And by "break", I really mean I find a book to read that is good, but not so good that I literally can't put it down.


It was the Hunger Games that started my current reading jubilee.  I read the trilogy in under a week, and am now going through it a second time, reading it aloud to Luke.  But reading the same books twice isn't quite satisfying when you're in the reading zone.  So I picked up a book that had been sitting on my shelf for probably three or four months (if not more): The Heretic Queen by Michelle Moran.  I'd picked it up from the bargain section of Chapters because I'd read one of her other books, Nefertiti.  I loved the latter, so I figured I would love the other one, but I wasn't in the right "mood" for it at the time (just like I picked up To Kill a Mockingbird, hated it, picked it up a year later, and absolutely loved it).  I guess I was in a better mindset for it, because I zipped through it, reading late into the night, and immediately put in a hold at the library for one of her other books, Cleopatra's Daughter.

I will admit I am usually skeptical of historical fiction.  It usually takes that one slip up that turns me off completely, and I can't read any further.  Now, I don't mean artistic liberties, because when it comes to writing about actual historical figures, particularly from ancient times, you absolutely have to.  I mean, you wouldn't have much of a book if you confined yourself to only what is known "for sure".  What I mean by slip ups, is when someone in Victorian London says, "Wow, that's so cool!"  Just...no.

I think Michelle Moran gets a lot of flack for taking artistic liberties.  At least, that's what I've gathered from reviews I've read on her books.  I think she does it well though, and she makes a point of mentioning in a historical note at the end of the book the key things that she changed and why.  It's kind of like how I've always wanted to write a story from the perspective of King Tut's wife, Ankhesenamun, after Tut's death.  If I'm writing a book that's meant to be dramatic, suspenseful, and borderline thriller, am I going to go with the accepted theory that Tut died from infection caused by a broken leg, or the more exciting murder theory?  Frankly guys, I'm going to go with the murder, but I'm not going to walk around pretending like that is definitely what happened.  I also detest when readers try to thrust their 21st century feminist agendas on historical fiction.  Please don't whine about the fact that Nefertari, the heroine of Heretic Queen, is in competition with Iset to win the affections and favour of Pharaoh Ramesses II, because that's how it was. Can we not just read things in context?!

I wouldn't go so far as to say this is the best that contemporary literature has to offer.  But I will say that for popular lit, it's pretty darn good, and I love the life she brings to these truly fascinating women of the ancient world.   managed to get me totally obsessed with Ancient Egypt and Rome all over again (this happens about once or twice a year, and has since I was about eight).  It makes me glad that I've invested in a few non-fiction books on the subject too.  But I'm afraid soon I'll be making a departure from the ancient world, in favour of Moran's novel about Madame Tussaud.  Exciting!

wings of paradise

Today my mom, my younger brother (Jesse), and I made the short trek out to our local butterfly conservatory.  I used to go there once a year with my area class (an enrichment school program) back in elementary school, and I loved it.  The last time I went was with my friend Anna a couple years ago.  Even though it really hasn't changed at all, it's still a different experience every time.  When I went with Anna, the butterflies were very sleepy, and actually rather hard to come by.  This time they were buzzing (not literally) with life.  A few of them attached to themselves to my mom and brother, and one latched onto my shirt and showed no signs of letting go until I eased him onto a plant.  I think he was a little desperate, because he had just come out of his chrysalis, and his wings hadn't yet unfolded all the way.  You can see something similar in the shot of my mom with her butterfly friend.  There was also a big, pretty yellow one that landed on my camera!  It flew away before my mom could take a picture on her phone though, which was too bad.  It was nice to get a few hours of reprieve from the cold though -- they have to keep it very warm in the conservatory for the butterflies, birds, and tropical plants.

catching up...slowly but surely

I am embarrassed to say this, but I totally fell off the 365 day photo project wagon.  Wedding planning swept me up into a hurricane of dress shopping, hall booking, and wedding blog surfing.  I know.  It's terrible.  But I'm determined to hop back on and get caught up.  So, my mom suggested that I do two a day: one from where I left off (in November -- eeeeek!), and one from the current date.  So it sort of messes my days up, but whatever.  So I'm just going to write the date that I took the image, and the date that it was meant for.  Hopefully it's not too confusing.


January 28, 2012 (November 16, 2011) - Empty
A brand new journal, waiting to be filled.  I have a lot of those.

January 28, 2012 (the real one) -- Funny

I've started collecting Sock Monkeys.  They just look like they have a great sense of humour, don't they?

January 29, 2012 (November 17, 2011) -- Irony

Shawn is turning fourteen in February.  It's ironic that of all our dogs, he has been the one with the most problems (cancer, bladder infections, losing weight for no apparent reason, etc.), and yet he's the one that has lasted the longest.

January 29, 2012 -- Dumb
No, your eyes do not deceive you.  The pictures are purple.  I put in an order of 400+ photographs (yes, you read that number correctly), only to return my black and white shots because they were green.  The colour shots looked all right.  Then, the photo lab technician tells us that they were having problems with their chemicals...so all my pictures turned purple in about a month.  Most labs would shut down if they were having chemical issues. So. Dumb.

January 30, 2012 (November 18, 2011) -- Sound

I love this picture.  For Christmas, my mom gave me this little vintage-inspired music box that plays one of the songs from Nutcracker (the name escapes me right now).  Underneath it, she had folded up, very, very tiny, a ticket to go see the Nutcracker the next week.  It's so pretty, and even though Christmas is over, I still play it.

January 30, 2012 -- Reward

For the dogs of course...not for me.

childhood influences: the secret garden

click here to view more pretty edited screen caps (frankly, I didn't feel like posting the tumblr name on my blog).

I started this post months ago, as a companion to my Little Princess post.  I don't know why I never finished it, because it's always been in the back of my mind.  So I figured that now is as good a time as any, because really, I haven't had much opportunity to go out and take pictures because of the terrible weather.    It's either pouring rain, or snowing, or frigidly cold.  I can only take so many pictures of the knicknacks on my shelf, you know?

Anyway.  The Secret Garden.  Another Frances Hodgson Burnett masterpiece.  Another film that I popped into the VCR on a weekly basis, until the tape started wearing down.  And yet another reason why I'm sure I love all the things I do, because nostalgia is definitely a running theme here.  The haunting portrait of Colin's mother, which was always strangely beautiful to me, is probably why I still love portraiture circa 1900 and earlier, and why as an artist, I have always leaned toward images of the human face.  It's probably why I love collecting old photographs too.

Here's a recent photograph I picked up (along with my Notman). I love his expression, and it's in fairly good condition too.  I'm sure the girls must have fawned over him.  Not to mention, that jacket looks awesome.

And how could we forget the key?  Isn't that how the whole thing started?  I remember being instantly smitten with the giant skeleton key that Mary discovers in her aunt's dusty, forgotten room.  The intricate design, and the grating sound it made when she put it in the lock.  It may even have been the sound more than the look that attracted me.  Just like I loved the sound of Mary's mother's ivory elephant as she walked it along wood.  Is that weird?  I don't know.  But I know that I still think of that sound, and when I hear it elsewhere, I still like it.

I've had this key for quite some time.  I used to carry it on my keychain, with all my modern keys, and occasionally I put it on a necklace.  Mostly it sits on my bedside table looking rustic and pretty.  It's obviously not the same size or complexity as the  Secret Garden key that you can see in the screen cap at the beginning of the post.  But it was the closest I could find at the time (and I still haven't come across anything better), and I love to imagine what it might have opened.  Part in parcel with the key, is the jewelry box in that screen cap.  A couple years ago, Luke's mom gave me one of her old jewelry boxes, and it looks a lot like that one.  I absolutely adore it.  I didn't take a picture of it, because well...it's kind of obscured by a whole lot of junk on my book shelf at the moment. 

 Last, but not least, is the clothes.  Pretty much of all of it, really.  I love her pea coat, and the big red tam (I still haven't found one that was just right...but I'll keep looking!).  In the meantime, I have a number of other ones, mostly gray, and one that's a delightful mustard colour.  I love the ribbons in Mary's hair, and the lace on her adorable little dresses.  I wish I was dainty enough to wear those stockings, but alas, I think it would just make me look ridiculous.  I'll stick to the lace, and the long gray coats.

I bought this lace shirt at Christmas-time, but I haven't worn it yet.  I'll either wear it for the rehearsal dinner, or after our wedding when Luke and I go out to dinner (paired with a really pretty lace skirt, both from Jacob).

Well, there you have it.  Yet another book/film that has continued to inspire me over the past twelve years or so.  And I think they did such a good job of that movie, that it's timeless, as far as I'm concerned.  They just got it right.  There's nothing to date it (see, for example, Diane Keaton's attempt at 1940s hair in The Godfather, which really just looks like it's from the '70s), and I think all the kids did a really terrific job at carrying the story.  The ten-year-old in me still has a bit of a crush on Dickon.

via mala-lesbia ; check out her gallery -- it's filled with beautiful, dream-like imagery.

*** I'd also like to note that the pictures I took were processed with Sara Lynn Paige's beautiful Reminisce film style actions.  I bought them a few weeks ago, and they are truly lovely.  Sometimes digital images can be too crisp, too clear.  This puts just the right amount of colour, and depth into my images.