La Politesse, la Poésie, les Politiques and French Language Love

Today- while, I am ashamed to admit, eating breakfast at McDonalds- I encountered possibly the nicest series of people ever. From the courteous and patient cashier (sam is a little slow in the mornings), to a TTC employee who was charming and funny to the shy woman who politely asked for the time. It is these kinds of people who give me hope for this city. When we don't speak eachother's language, but we still smile kindly, or when we paint the sidewalk to make a few bucks and share art with our neighbours we create a community. Yes we are all different, and refuse assimilation, but la politesse could really save us from divisiveness and lead us to true diversity.

For many years now I have been taking all the words that clog up my head and writing poems on scraps of paper. I have many notebooks, and alot of poems tend to get writen on assignments and that sort of thing. Lately I have been find my poetry pretty stale and redundant so in an effort to squeeze out the few remain drops of my creative process I have decided to partake in NANOWRIMO, or national novel writing month. Essentially over the course of november it is my goal to write 50 000 words. It is a big scarey tastes that haunts my dreams, but I think it will a good exercise for me. I will post my word count updates when I post blog entries, but it would be kind of you to check in and make sure I haven't forgotten to write every now and again.

It is a commonly held belief (that I agree with) that students and young people are not politically active enough. Today, I am not going to yell at all of you for not knowing who Clifford Siffton is. Instead, I want to give props for the young and politically involved. Some how it is always the youth who are willing to dress up and stand on a street corner making clever puns about Dalton Maguinties sexuality and his tuition policy. Also they give out candy.

Finally I have to distinct pleasure of writing a french paper in class today that I am not at all looking forward to. But the more I speak, read and listen to music in french the more I am transported by the language. There is something about in so inherent in me; it is comfortable and natural. But i will likely fail anyway.

Elephants, Eroticisms, Ego

For most anyone who knows me, even just a little, it is a basic truth that Sam Loves Salvador Dali. You enter my room at home to large poster of The metamorphosis of Narcissus and The Persistence of Memory. My room at U of T greets you with Elephants and a Dali calendar. I did my final project for French on Dali's life. I did a photography project on Philippe Halsman just because he took very famous photographs of Dali. You can easily say that I am obsessed.

So it isn't suprising that I have chosen to study Dali for my Shocking Artists, Shocking Art course. In my defense, this is not out of laziness. I plan to delve into this with much more enthusiasm than I would with any other artist. Today I spent nearly three hours researching various artists in an effort to branch out, but I find them unengaging. Every sketch of Dali's, every sculpture and painting can easily preoccupy me for an hour without me being aware that time is passing (disintegrating clocks indeed).

I have chosen to focus on Dali's eroticism, and potentially his blasphemy. I have not explored this particular aspect that closely, as of yet. Partially because Dali is so explicit, and as you all know, it can be difficult to approach such subject matter openly. I think that my classmates and the sheer structure of the project will create a forum in which it isn't awkward to say 'erection', 'masturbation', 'fantasy' etc etc. Also, I think it may be the only time I will discuss Freud without visibly twitching. A lot of Dali's erotic work is a take on Freudian concepts, even sometimes a shot at them.

To inspire all of you, and maybe to give you a clue about what the hell I am talking about I thought I provide a link to some of Dali's more shocking work. If you don't understand what is shocking or interesting about it, but you would like to, let me know. Nothing makes me happier than talking about my Salvador.


Freud’s Perverse Polymorph (Bulgarian Child Eating a Rat), 1939

Female Seated Nude, 1960

Explosion of Faith in a Cathedral, 1974

Face of War

Lugubrious Game, 1929

Young Virgin Auto-Sodomized by Her Own Chastity, 1954

On Your Mark, Get Set.... COMMENCE

Last night was my highschool commencement. I was fairly neutral about it going in; I knew it would be good to see people again but was too worn down after a week of being sick and stressed out to really care.

Upon arrival I was struck with the strangest feeling about what happens to people when they leave high school. Some of them, move on and genuinely change, but I was struck by how many will always be exactly what they are now. Maybe that is unfair to say, but I am not trying to be judgmental. You just sit back and listen to them have the exact same conversations you have heard them have every day for the past four years. If you are lucky the names they gossip about have at least changed thought is quite a sad one since it made me feel like there is a limit to the amount of people who will grow up from being teenangers.

There were some redeeming things in the evening, though. I laughed out loud to see my principal grinning like a madman, rocking back and forth on his heels like a four year old on his birthday. That man has put so much into Newtonbrook in four years- I think all of my efforts really fail in comparison. Other teachers gave me hope as well, there are some who are honestly invested in our success. It seems like that should be garaunteed, but it is a rare gift to have people dedicate themselves to the personal growth otheres. They chose this profession to facilitate youth and that is a noble and honourable goal.

Of all things I was most anticipating (and most happy with) the valedictorian speech by a dear friend of mine. Now it must be said that throughout his years at Newtonbrook I have seen him do some rather questionable things, and I have heard tell of many others... But he is the type of guy who is always there to put up a poster, or talk to a teacher or make you laugh on a bad day. He is the type of guy who knows the staff by their first names, even the janitors.

His speech began like all the others, with welcomes and thank yous. It was glaringly obvious to me that he was forced into the wording of this section, as he over-exaggerated to almost the point of sarcasm (which I loved, it - and the pausing to pose for photos- was the closest thing I got to him using the word 'deuchbag' or talking about peeing) But as he continued he did some things that I really admire. He had the guts to single out some amazing teachers, who do great thing but are rarely appreciated by the students. He made a point of talking about what clearly matters to him, which led to a Very y well said message on laughter, and not taking yourself so seriously.

From there he took the speech to a place I didn't expect him to go. He made very astute and intellectual comments about the world we live in, and even ventured so far as to offer some admirable solutions. To be honest, I think he lost a few people at this point, but knowing him (at least to some degree) I felt that I understood where he was coming from.

From the night as a whole, I don't take a complete sense of panic about the next generation. I look around to my group of friends, all of whom who have contributed so much of their time and energy, and to our deserving Valedictorian... I look at a teacher so dedicated to his students that he would show up after a week of not sleeping at all (And we all know that he will be even more dedicated to his new baby girl), at my principal who has become a dear friend and other teachers who have earned my respect... I look at the students in the crowd who are doing something, who have chosen a cause (or causes) and fight for them...

I see all of these people and I think about how much more I could be doing, I am inspired to moved beyond the contributions that I have already made and to give more. I hope that the other people who came last night were similarly inspired, because that would be a true cause for hope.

On a totally different note, I must thank Mom Dad (and Katy for the idea) for my shiny new ipod nano. It is one of the Project Red items that contributes money to AIDS research. I encourage you all to support such campaigns when you are buying things. Large corporations are taking notice of global issues, and if we as consumers demonstrate our approval, they will continue to do so.

Sam

Further Complications, Work, Murphy's Law and This Damn Cough

Recent events ...from the keyboard of the LAPPY!

In the end, my computer died. Hopefully it will be returned to me soon, as I already miss all of my music and favorite distractions. How can i go without Harvey Birdman? The Waifs? The Decemberists (newly added to my musical repetoire)? Messenger?

Also, I stopped wallowing in my own filth and cleaned my room. Now it demands to be said that I did this only because it served as a tool for procrastination from my very large scarey essay.

It seems I have lost my touch at blogging, everytime I think of a post I put it off until it isnt relevant anymore. This is just a crappy transition one to get me back in the swing of things.

Sam

Have you noticed that everything always happens at once? Talk about second law thermodynamics, the chaos will only grow.

A Prayer of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is an invitation to a table, in celebration of the year's harvest, in celebration of abundance and life that comes to an end in the winter months ahead.

We come to the table hungry, looking to be fed and water, looking to come away again satisfied.

We come to the table broken. Lost loves and shattered hearts follow us here like ghosts. Illness obstructs our view, and all too often kills our appetite.

We come to the table lonely. Some of us are far from our homes, some of us are without a clear vision of home. We search for friendship we have not yet found and for a family without struggle. We seek to lay down at the feet of a lover to drink joy from companionship.

We come to the table tired from the weight of our worries. Preoccupied by the world that seems to crumble around us, we bear burdens of fear and guilt, longing and concern. Our mistakes, and our misfortunes refuse to be forgotten.

We come to the table uncertain, confused by the choices we face. We are doubtful of our convictions, tested on our faith, judged by our peers.In the face of our own failures we have become self-conscious and defensive . We have forgotten how to forgive ourselves and eachother.

We come to the table searching. Driven by a search for answers, and for the right questions, a search for stability, clarity and righteousness. In hopes of receiving thanks, we seek gratitude. We have come to find the strength to be thankful.

Before us is laid the feast of harvest. Around us; a family come together in love. Beside us; our dearest friends, found along the way. Within us is a call to give thanks for sunshine and seed, friend and neighbour, lover and sibling, parent and child, air and lungs, water and bread.

May our thanks be to God, or to the Earth. May our thanks be to eachother, or to ourselves. May our thanks be heard and welcomed.

Dearests, although outros are unusual for me, the message of my gratitude is one I try to repeat as often as possible. I know that many of you, close friends, blood relatives, near strangers, new acquaintances, have heard this before but it is with humility and in ernest that I say thank you. So I make this offering to you; I invite you to my table. Whenever the feeling of incompleteness, loneliness, sadness or confusion hits you, I invite you to contact me. Call me when you need a friendly voice, come share a meal with me when you need a helping hand. Do not hesitate to let me show you my gratitude for having you in my life. I am here to listen to the words stuck in your throat, the thoughts in taking up room your head and anything else you may feel the need to say.

Samantha Lalonde
(find all my contact info on facebook, or send me an email at childofthestork@hotmail.com )

Ten Random and Stupid Things That I Love

In the span of twenty four hours I will come up with ten really great things.

1 New toothbrushes. Don't ask why I am brushing my teeth at two in the afternoon, but yesterday when I went grocery shopping I splurged on a fancy colgate 360. Having a new tooth brush is like getting a facial, you feel just much cleaner. The plaque fighting power is just that much greater.

2 Double Chocolate Muffins. My air, my heroin.

3 My inky purple pen that distracts me from all my lectures

4 "It is like the floral equivalent of S and M" Professor Legge talking about some photographs

5 Reznikoff's Employee Poker Night

6 My comfy comfy bed

7 Jaynestown (the firefly episode in which they discover a town dedicated to Adam Baldwin's character Jayne)

8 chamomile tea. Very strong, with honey

9 Being all tucked into a warm bed, in a cold room when you still have another hour and a half before you have to get up

10 Having to run to class because you stayed in that bed for an hour and forty five minutes before even entertaining the idea of moving

Newly Decided Distributions of My Time (yes I know I wont stick to it)

Daily

30 minutes of back exercises or other physical activity
30 minutes of French radio, music, film or reading
1 hour or more of reading (for class or not)
2 meals eaten without doing anything else at the time
4 hours or more dedicated to sleep
1 good thing just for me (tea, webcomic, TV show, extra long shower etc. )

Weekly

1 hour generally cleaning and all required laundry and dishes
1 hour artistic, creative activity
2 or more phone calls home
2 or more messages or calls to friends I haven't recently spoken to
4 consecutive hours of Sabbath (dedicated to personal and spiritual reflection, untouched by other work)

Monthly

1 house event at the very least (organizing)
1 letter to someone
2 house events at the very least (attending)
2 hours walking through campus

An Update in Brief Without Prior Reflection

Nuit Blanche

Oh POMO, where would the world be without it? Although I found nuit blanche to be rather artless for a contemporary art thing, I still found it in a way inspiring. I guess it is partly due to the wealth of ideas and creativity oozing from the event, and partly due to the fact that most of those ideas were crappy and I am pretty sure that C.R.A.Y.O.N. would have done a better organizational job. There is also just the idea of staying up all night that appealed to me about this event. Most of you well know that it is a struggle for me to fall asleep most days, and it was nice to feel like staying up all night was a totally healthy and productive thing. But all in all it was sort of lack lustre, nuit beige if you will.

Weather

Today is a beautiful day. It is one of those sunny, but still not hot days that actually makes me enjoy the fall for just a split second. And yet, today's the day they decide to turn the radiators on. I am litterally here in a tank top, window fully open trying to cool off. All week they have been yelling at me with their signs and posters about "Minimizing our evironmental footprint" and my soup is colder than the ambient air tempature in my room.

Autumn

I think the fall sucks. I have always felt this. Metaphorically speaking (or litteraly in my life) the fall is the time for things to die, to be lost. But there are just a few things that salvage the time of year:

-vegetables. Pumpkin Spice Lattes, butternut squash soup.
-textiles. Leather jacket, corduroy pants, amazing fuzzy sweater, argile.

The Waifs

The waifs are an austrailian folk group. Their CD Up all Night is so good that I am too distracted to carry on posting.

Sam