Outside, the snowfall is fast but light. From the blanket of white on the cars, one can tell how long it’s been snowing. Against this white is the aching orange glow of the sky, and the warm fluorescent street lamps. The blinds of the houses across the street are all closed and the lights are off.

City in a snow globe. Lifeless. Plastic. Shaken.

In the darkness of my living room, Emiliana Torrini sings to me about love in the time of science.

It shouldn’t hurt me to be free
It’s what I really need
To pull myself together
But if it’s so good being free
Would you mind telling me
Why I don’t know what to do with myself

It’s the last day of the year. The little clock on my screen tells me it’s six minutes to 2 a.m. I should be in bed, but this is the only chance I have to write.

Where did the time go? I thought I would be bored, or lonely, during the holiday stretch, only to discover that it wasn’t long enough.

They say that the days, months, years pass faster, the older you get.

Maybe this means I’m getting old.

For feedback, I showed Frédéric some of my initial work for the next exposition, a couple concept photos that capture the essence of my theme.

He told me I was being shy. That my work isn’t shocking or disturbing enough. Technically, it’s perfect, but lacking the qualities that make it art. For my subject, there’s a fine line between artistry and commercialism, and I haven’t yet crossed that line.

It made perfect sense, what he said.

My subject includes a lot of skin. But as a photographer who doesn’t have an established reputation, I find it extremely difficult to get people to take their clothes off, even for non-nude photos. I’m trying to work on a limited budget, with limited materials. I can’t afford to pay people to be my models, so I rely on the favours of friends¹.

Working with models is a challenge in itself. There’s an element of uncertainty and unreliability when dealing with people, and being a control freak, this has proven to be extremely frustrating. It would have been simpler to photograph objects instead of people, but human shapes are the source of my interest.

It’s also difficult for me to photograph what is not considered “conventionally” beautiful (to my tastes, at least). Bless the beautiful, I once wrote.

In addition to all this, it’s hard for me to forget the meaning I’ve always placed in what I create. For this exhibit, I’m trying to create out of pure aestheticism. It’s not an easy thing to do, but I have to let go of these old habits.

At this point, the success of the show is still uncertain. Hopefully I’ll be able to pull it off in time. January will be busy. I know if I can overcome these challenges, I’ll be able to overcome so much more.

It’s become a test of myself more than anything else.

1. Tiana was nice enough to put out an announcement on her blog for model help, and carefully noted that I’m not creepy. [↑]

Another Christmas with Shirley and her family, although this time Bill’s family came down as well. I spent Christmas Eve night and Christmas day at their house, partaking in the Christmas experience with those who believe in the importance of such a ritual.

We were wrapping presents (from “Santa”) until midnight on Christmas Eve. The tree must have been raised the two feet off the ground to fit everything underneath. Negotiations went on through the night as to what time to wake up, but the kids woke us up at 6:30 anyway. Looking back on the pictures of 2005, you can tell how much they’ve grown in just two years.

Loads more pictures behind the cut.

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Hi there.

I’m already in holiday mode. Sure, I have one day of work left — Monday — but my brain has checked out. I even took the day off yesterday and made it a long weekend because I have extra vacation days left, and they can’t be carried forward.

This is how I spend most of my time nowadays: on my new chaise lounge from EQ3, with a mug of tea by my side, in a generally unkempt manner. Unshaven, with the flourish of a cowlick in my hair.

Last year, in which I declared that Christmas is dead, I stayed home out of spite, not directed at anyone but myself. This year, I’ve decided to go to Shirley’s for Christmas Eve and Christmas, and Pat and Jen’s for New Year’s.

But there’s a stretch of a several days in between in which I have no plans. Even though it’ll be a chance for me to do some extra writing, work on my photo projects, maybe even relax a bit, part of me wishes I was busy like everyone else.

I know I don’t have anything to complain about. I’m lucky enough to be spending the “important” days with friends who are important to me. I’m even lucky enough to have a choice of where to go. But I know that during the stretch, when other people has somewhere to be, somewhere to go, I’ll feel somewhat forlorn. They’ll have a place where they belong.

Maybe I’ll belong here, at home alone, on this wonderful chaise.

My dad called. After 14 months without contact.

Not that I wasn’t expecting it. He e-mailed me two weeks ago (flagged with the little red exclamation point to note that it was important), telling me that he was having a party on New Years. “Can you come and join us?”, it said.

“Us?”

Is he dating now, I wondered. Married?

I sat on this e-mail, unsure of what to say. A little while before this, Merv struck up a conversation with me about fishing. I told him I used to go to this one fishing spot at a lift-lock in Peterborough with my dad, and it made me wonder what I would say if I ever talked to him again. He didn’t even know me when we were on speaking terms, how would he know me now? I’ve changed so drastically in the last year.

We never left things off on bad terms. We just stopped talking to each other, so there wasn’t any animosity, on my part, at least. I never contacted him because I never felt like it, and I was expecting years to go by before he contacted me.

Then he called on the weekend. It took me by surprise. I thought e-mail was a way for him to stay distant, while fulfilling the minimum parental responsibility. I had guests over and was entertaining and somewhat charged up. He started talking to me in Chinese, and I could only reply in English. It was too much for my mind, and I was too much on my guard. So I told him to call me next week.

And he did.

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A few portraits of Meghan. Her big eyes and waif-like figure give her something of an innocent look, while the dress and labret balances this out with a bit of an edge. Very appealing, in my books. Makes you wonder which part is more true of her.

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I’ve come to realize that as much as I’ve grown and gained, I still seek approval from others, albeit to a much smaller extent than before. This approval is how I define my self worth.

It’s an old, bad habit.

I can trace this habit back to my parents. I would always do things to try to win their approval, only to be met with a comment about not being good enough, or unsupportive silence. Their constant criticism led to low self-esteem and feelings of inadequacy. Yet another example of how they mindfucked me.

At this point, it’s just a knee-jerk reaction. Remnants of my old, insecure self creeping up. I know that one day, I’ll be able to break the habit completely.

Until then, I have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of you.

A look into my current tastes, updated for 2007. This list is somewhat shorter than last years because the ones I haven’t checked off still apply, and I’ve been guilty of some spending this month; The first two seasons of Robson Arms on DVD (which I desperately waited two years for), season six of Trailer Park Boys, my mittens, a RAZR 2 (the cell phone I’ve had for five years died), an electric toothbrush, and various gifts.

Photography

• Bogen / Manfrotto Background Support System 314 ($280) — To quickly set up different coloured backgrounds in my photography room.

  Bought it on sale, which was still $260.

• Arca-Swiss Monoball Z1 Ballhead ($475) — My current tripod isn’t strong enough to hold most of my lenses in place, and the locking mechanism is extremely chintzy. Very frustrating when working with dark shots. A ballhead would give me tremendous flexibility.
• Gitzo GT3530LSV Mountaineer 6x Carbon Fiber Tripod Legs ($625) — Carbon fiber tubing makes for an extremely light and portable set of tripod legs. Packed with all the important little features like an anti-leg rotation system, the Gitzo leg locking system, and removable rubber feet.

Furniture

• Rubix Cube Ottoman ($129) — A black, two-toned square ottoman to go with my leather couch.

Housewares

• Bodum Assam 2-Cup Tea Press ($25) — I have one of these at home, but it would be great to have one at work too, so I can make more than one cup of tea at a time.

  Julie bought me a Stokes gourmet Formosa tea infuser for Christmas 2008. A little chamber for loose leaves dangles from the top, as opposed to a press, which can create bitterness in tea.

• Braun Impression WK 600 Kettle ($90) — A large kettle for my tea. Right now, I have to boil water in two cup intervals, which takes a while when guests are over.

  Andrew and Alex bought me a similar model for my birthday, and it’s SWEET.

• Tingler Head Massager ($15) — On Jason’s recommendation on my recent post about manual stimulation. The reviews say that it helps put you to sleep, and that can never be a bad thing.

  Found a cheep one at Zone for five dollars! Doesn’t vibrate or anything but still pretty good. Next is finding someone to use it on me.

Games

• Orange Box ($50) — A nostalgic trip back to the days of my favourite game ever: Team Fortress Classic for Half-Life. I hear the gameplay has changed a lot, but I don’t care. We’ll probably be playing this at the next LAN.
• Odin Sphere ($40) — A side-scrolling fantasy RPG for the PS2 that I don’t want to miss.

Movies/Shows

• JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure OVA ($52) — My favourite anime of all time: a combination of fascinating universe, and very intelligent action. I currently have a copy in Japanese with French subtitles. While this helps me learn more French, I also don’t understand much the phrases.

  Found a copy of this for download.

• Reno 911 seasons 2-5 ($90) — An hilarious, original look at law enforcement. Trailer Park Boys from the other side of the law. I have the first season (thank you Music World for going out of business and giving me 20% off), but I’d love to get the rest, along with the movie.

  Bought all of these on a lark. Did not regret the decision.

At the hair salon tonight, a new girl washed my hair. She went through the usual routine, but before she finished, she placed her fingers along the front of my hairline, and with constant pressure, slowly worked her way back.

The water was warm, my hair was wet, and I felt the tension going down my scalp. It was completely sublime.

The edges of my lips started curling, but I couldn’t tell if I was helplessly smiling, or it was the stretching of my skin upwards.

In the shower tonight, when washing out the stray hairs, I tried doing it on myself. It didn’t feel the same, of course.

It was like that scene in Secretary, where Lee Holloway (played by Maggie Gyllenhaal) tries to spank herself with a hairbrush when exploring her submissive tendencies. I love the expression of intent, and ultimately letdown, on her face.

The problem with manual stimulation is that it never feels as good as when someone else does it for you.

biting keeps your words at bay
tending to the sores that stay
happiness is just a gash away
when i open a familiar scar
pain goes shooting like a star
comfort hasn’t failed to follow so far

and you might say it’s self-indulgent
and you might say it’s self-destructive
but, you see, it’s more productive
than if i were to be happy

—The Dresden Dolls, Bad Habit

I was jittery and nervous all day.

Several new developments have left me with a lack of resolution. People to meet, presents to give, pictures to take, responsibilities to fulfill. And as much as I try not to think about it, it’s in my nature to do so.

I still haven’t gotten passed this feeling. Still don’t know if I want to. Still don’t even know what it is. All I know is that it’s making me manic.

I can only write this at night. When I’m falling asleep and off my guard, sitting on my chaise, with the curtains drawn and the window open to the winter air.

Now I feel like writing, but I don’t even know what to say. Everything’s too jumbled for me to decide whether I’m happy or sad. Maybe it’s both, maybe it’s one because of the other. Life, at the moment, is so bittersweet.

Wonderfully bittersweet, that’s what it is.

Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?
Should’ve known this was the kind of place
That that sort of thing just wasn’t allowed
…
And look at me now up here running my mouth
I just open it up and see what comes running out

Well here it comes…

Like I give a fuck, like I give a shit about that fuck
Like I give a fuck, like I give a shit about that fuck
Like I give a fuck about that motherfucking shit
Like I give a fuck
Like I give a fuck
LIKE I GIVE A FUCK
LIKE I GIVE A SHIT
LIKE I GIVE A FUCK

—!!!, Pardon My Freedom

This is me without boundaries.

This is the truth. My truth. My honesty in it’s purest form, including my opinion and bias.

Often, there are things said that people don’t want to hear, or don’t want to know. I never apologize for what I say because my opinions are never forced on others. No one has to come here and read what I say.

There are two rules: I never say anything here that I can’t say to someone’s face, and I never give away someone else’s private information.¹

Other than that, I’ll never censor myself for the sake of others.

1. “Private” is to my discretion, of course. [↑]

I’m facing the very tangible possibility that I’ll be single for the rest of my life. Sometimes I wonder how I’ll survive. The strange part is that I feel like I was meant to be in a relationship. Quixotic ideas and romantic ideals have always pointed me in that direction, but either the right person hasn’t come along, or they’re taken.

At the same time, I wonder if I can be in another relationship. I’ve grown so accustomed to living alone, having things exactly my way, with time to work on my projects. No maintenance, as it were. How I do enjoy the freedom.

One situation isn’t better than the other, of course. Both have their pros and cons.

Still.

The quick acknowledgment of love in the form of a peck, or the intimacy of a make-out session.

Has the winter brought this feeling? Has the sight of snow and snowfall reminded me of how frigid the nights can be when you’re by yourself?

Or maybe it’s from being single for this long.

With a tone of genuine concern, as if I was being consumed by some disease, Abdallah told me he noticed I was getting thinner. Perhaps this is true. I was recovering from an episode of IBS, and controlling my food intake. Maybe its my sets of narrow, flared pants I’ve been wearing lately on Julie’s suggestion¹.

Louise tells people I don’t eat a lot, which is true only when we’re out ², and is also the only time she’s seen me eat. It makes me even more ill at ease when I’m already feeling unattractive, as if it was my fault and I wasn’t doing enough about it. Others will comment about the size of my waist, or make a passing remark about how they wish they had my metabolism.

According to my doctor, I’m average weight — the average being a range, with me being near the bottom. I know this, but it doesn’t make it easier. Bronwen once told me that I have a weight issue, and after thinking about it for a while, I realized that it was true. Even though it’s something I can joke about, it’s still a source of self-consciousness, leading back to memories of my parents telling me that no one will love me if I’m this size forever.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get over it.

1. Her theory is that baggy pants do nothing to hide thin limbs and make skinny people look even skinnier. [↑]
2. Usually because I don’t like to be too full when I’m out. [↑]

Maybe it was the exhaustion making me hyperactive and all WOOOOOOOOOOO this morning. Maybe it was the weather on my side, trying to bury the city in 40cm of snow, telling me to forget everything else. On seeing myself in the mirror, I started to have one of those Strung Out, Matchbook moments while shaving. You know, the part that goes

I just comb my hair and wash my face
Keep straight ahead and keep my pace
Just think about nothing and my life’ll be alright
Well I got my friends, I got my pen
I got a million distractions to keep me warm
And all I know is that I’ll be alright, that I’ll be alright

And while it’s getting so busy that I can’t keep track of everything, it’s also nice to be distracted. I can keep these thoughts in the back of my head, and bring them out when I need them. Almost like I’m in total control of it all, while it continually verges on the peak of instability.

Maybe it’s the instability I thrive on, a way of feeling like my life isn’t stagnant. That way, I’m not in a rut, devoid of inspiration.

So yeah. I think it’s making me hyper.

Those who rule in accordance with Tao do not use force against the world
For that which is forced is likely to return

—Verse 30, Tao Te Ching

I may know better, I may understand what I’m supposed to accept, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Sometimes the world is crashing down around you, and all you can do is watch.

Because you can’t yell at the sky to keep it from falling.