Registered

Green Reflectome, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

Okay, I've done it. I've registered for Intro to Photoshop at ACAD. It doesn't start until May, but that's okay. It's coming, and it'll happen. And it'll be good for me.

Sometimes I have a tendency to get involved in TOO much - over-commit myself. Then at some point I freak-out, realizing I just can't stay on top of it all, and quit everything I can.

I would like to take some artsy night classes - have been thinking about it for YEARS. But I am afraid of it being "too much" and quitting. I hate quitting.

Most of the ACAD night classes are twice a week, and that's daunting to someone with my history. So I decided on the photoshop class because it's only once a week, on wednesday nights. Not too intimidating, only 6 weeks long. I'm sure I can do that. And it'll tell me if I can handle a two-nights-per-week class. Yup, yup.

Not feeling ultra-bloggy today. Not really feeling ultra-anything today. Not into my work, or my lunch, or my usual routines. Dunno. Looking forward to the weekend. We'll see what comes next.

Art Classes?

Busy Hands, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

So, I think I am going to take a night class at ACAD in May. I have felt this need lately to pay more attention to my art again. Work on it, go somewhere with it, but I don't really remember how. I can sit down with my paints or my pencils and create the same things I've created over and over again since I was 16, but nothing new or inspiring. Not the images I dream up and WANT to create. My possibilities are these:

On Wednesdays Nights:
Intro to Photoshop
Digital Darkroom

Monday and Wednesday Nights:
Intro to Drawing
Figure Drawing
Intro to Oil Painting
Intro to Watercolour

Tuesday and Thursday Nights:
Anatomy Study
Intro to Acrylic Painting

I think the two Wednesday night classes seem similar to one-another, and they are not related to the painting-or-drawing that I want to get back into, but I do feel they could help me out with my photos. Post-processing is not my forte, and perhaps it would help me get out of my photo-rut, and feel inspired there again.

Of the others, I've just really chosen all the beginner drawing and painting classes. Though I've drawn and painted for most of my life, I have not really taken many formal art classes. Some in highschool, one in university, but it's been so long, I don't think it would hurt me to start back at square one. ya know?

There were other classes that appealed to me too, like Jewellery Design, Fiction Writing, Sculpture, and Fabric. But I feel I should get "back to basics" before venturing further into other mediums.

Hrm... Decisions, decisions...

Close Call

Week 19, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

This morning, on our way to work, Brian and I were very nearly involved in a head-on collision.

We were turning left from northbound Dartmouth Rd (bottom of highfield road), to westbound 25 Ave SE. Our light was green.

Suddenly, as we turned into the intersection, a blue/green pick-up truck (going very fast) came straight at us (travelling East in the westbound lanes). Brian managed to slam-on the brakes in time, and the truck had room to careen past us. If we were a second or two sooner, or if the truck was a second or two later, we would have hit head-on.

The pieces started to fall into place as we saw that this truck was being followed by a police cruiser with lights flashing. The cruiser proceeded more cautiously through the intersection, and a moment or two later, another followed.

Once we were able to discern what was obviously going on (Car chase. Never actually been witness to one before.), we proceeded slowly around the corner - only to see someone lying face down in the middle of the road (in the eastbound lanes), with another police cruiser parked nearby.

My first thought was that the truck must have hit that person - Must be a hit 'n' run. But then realized that the person lying face-down in the road was being handcuffed.

I can only imagine what the whole story is - I find that when I witness police in action, I can rarely ever find any details in the news or anywhere else.

It was a very sobering experience, though. We were SO close to a really horrible accident. It is a terrifying thing to realize.

In other news, there were firetrucks on my street last night. Lights flashing, but no sirens. The second one left pretty quick, but the first one stayed a while. Must have been a medical emergency - I hope whoever needed help is doing okay.

Aug. Now I have a giant lump in my throat. I'm going to get back to work now and think about some nice, non-emotional numbers and spreadsheets. Mmmmm, pipeline specs...

Duality

Week 18, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

I know I'm not the only one who feels like they are two different people at times. Work-Me and Home-Me.

Work-Me is an acheiver. Organized, proffesional, driven. I am the one who took an imossible project and moved it further in 2 months than in the previous 2 years. Took a flailing position and made it invaluable. Came to the job with next to no knowledge or experience in the area, and quickly became the go-to-girl in my area. The one with the answers. Making things happen faster, more efficiently, more accurately. Forms, words, numbers. Regulations. These are my domain. At work.

Home-Me is an artist. Scatter-brained, creative, dreamy. The one who drew a star map on her apartment bedroom wall, complete with moving planets, in their actual current positions. Who likes to dress up in costumes and take pictures and read about far-away places and long-ago queens. Beauty, Nick-Nacks. Blue, crystals, kitty-cats, books, wings, tutus. These are who I am. At home.

When someone asks me what I do, I always start with "um". It's not that I don't know. It's not that I'm ashamed. I just don't feel like it has anything to do with who I am.

Who are you? A nurse? A lawyer? A mom? An engineer? A consultant? A writer?

Who am I? I don't know. I can't answer that with "A pipeline regulations tech". That's not who or what I am. It's what I do for most of my life. But it's not ME.

I understand that most of the world isn't doing what they always dreamed of. There would be a lot more rockstars and astronauts and spa-testers if that were the case.

You have to find the right balance, between doing something you enjoy and paying the bills, right? How do you know if you've got the right balance?

My job pays the bills. I know that. I know I wouldn't make this money anywhere else, doing anything else, with my level of formal education and experience. Period.

And I don't mind my job. In fact, I like it. Often very much. But love? Passion? How many people really feel those things towards what they do every day?

I work with great people. I have great respect for my co-workers and employers. I am proud to work for the company I do. But is it passionate and energetic? I'm not so sure.

I get passionate about people, beauty, ideas. Books, art.

I have been struggling with this for a week or two, now. I am usually pretty good at putting the silly ideas out of my head. No, I can't be an artist. I can't own a bookstore coffee shop. I can't design jewelery. I can't be an author. These things are not practical. I know nothing about running a business. I've never written anything long enough to be a book. Is it all a matter of "the grass is greener"?

*sigh* I probably won't ever know, until I'm 88 years old, in my rocking chair - thinking back on everything. Then I'll know if I did it right, or if I could have/should have...

Whooooo... R... U...?

Bluish, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

Ever since I was a little kid, I've had people tell me I'm old for my age. As a kid a got along better with adults than other kids, and in my 'adult' life, my closest friends tend to be 5-10 years older than me. I have been praised for my "mature" decisions, my smart, practical, choices.

I was so eager to grow up, to be in the same place as all my favorite people were. Career. House. Responsibilities. I've been working for the same company since I was 20, and bought my house at 23.

It seems, on the surface, that I'm reasonably good at deciding what I want, working hard, and reaching my goals.

So why, then, does it seem that I've gone wrong somewhere? I understand that in terms of finances and security I've done well for myself. I understand that it's rare for someone my age to be well into my mortgage. I understand that I make good money for someone with my lack of a post-secondary education. I understand that from the outside, it looks like I must have everything I could want.

But what about creativity? What about self-expression? What about beauty? What about art? These are things that I can be passionate about. These are things that I can feel beneath the surface of my skin. But that's just it... I keep them hidden, because from 8-5, I'm practical and mature and an expert on oil and gas pipeline regulations. Not an artist. Not creative or expressive or talented.

When I was growing up, I always wanted to be a teacher. For so many reasons. The creativity it would require. The joy and the challenge of helping kids grow and learn and develop into intelligent, free-thinking adults. The idea that the most important part of anyone's life is arguably their school-years, and the idea that I could help and encourage them along the rough patches, and watch them excell through the smooth ones. I had (and still do) such an intense respect for teachers. Knowing what a HUGE difference some of them made in my life, and wishing I could "pay it forward".

The union idea always bothered me. The fact that the good teachers don't get rewarded, and the bad ones don't get penalized. I've always known that the world would be a better place if good teachers were rewarded and bad ones fired. Bring in some competition. Some motivation, after the sparkle of "helping the kids" wears off. For many years, my plan of teaching included working my way up to a place of power within the union, in order to dissmantle it from the inside. Ha.

But when the time came, it didn't work for me. A wide variety of choices and circumstances landed me out of University by the end of my first year, working temporary office jobs, trying to make enough money not only to live on, but to pay off some credit card debt and save-up enough to get back to school.

By the time my finances managed to work themselves out, the company I was working for convinced me to stay on permanently. It offered me safety, stability, the security I craved since my mother's accidental death in 2003.

Of course I thought about "the dream I left behind", but always managed to explain it away. I'm too old to start 7 years of school all over again. I would come out of school making about what I already make at my current job. What if I changed my mind, and then realized I didn't like teaching afterall? I can't afford to buy a house AND go back to school, it's one or the other.

I put these blinders on. I told myself the ONLY logical solution was to pretend I had no other options.

And that's how I tend to live my life. I stay content with things because I pretend it's the only way my life could have turned out.

But every once in a while, I realize that's just not true. I get angry at myself for lying to myself, and my imagination starts running wild at what other options I've had and still do have, and what if I were brave enough to change course?

I could go on and on about this. I shouldn't. I won't.

I have ideas for a branch off this blog. But I do a lot more imagining than doing, so I can't say it'll ever actually become a reality...

Enough rambling on for now, I suppose...

Health Quest

Pax, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

I mentioned in my last post that I am attempting to make my health a very serious priority. This is not an attempt to lose weight, but it is an attempt not to gain weight. Unless it's muscle-weight, which is fine.

Part of this is dietary. No meat at the moment, which was meant to force me into "high fibre, low fat". However, I seem to be replacing meat with dairy. Too much of it. Which is not much better for me. So now I am also focusing on cutting down on the dairy. I want vegetables, grains, fruits to be the focus of what I eat... I'm working on it day by day, some days are better than others.

The other part of this quest is activity. I've rarely been as active as I should be, with a few exceptions.

In '98 and '99, I had a summer job which had me on my bicycle 40 hours a week. Needless to say, that whipped me into shape fairly quickly. But my activity always dropped back to very-low as soon as school started again.

In January of 2003, I took up yoga and loved it. I started with 2 classes a week, but a few months later I was up to 5-6 classes a week. I believe that was the best shape I've ever been in. But in late August, my mother died and I quit yoga. I gained about 40 pounds in 6-9 months, and kept it for a couple years. Once every month or two I could convince myself to go for a jog or something, but I never stuck with any sort of routine. Apart from walking a few blocks to and from the bus stop every day, I pretty much just sat and did nothing.

In summer/fall 2006 I lost about 30-40 lbs without meaning to, and without even realizing it. I was not being any more active, I was just eating less. To the point where my friends became worried and had to point out to me that I wasn't getting enough calories in a day. It sounds strange to say, but I really hadn't known it until they said it out loud. And then it was SO obvious to me. I was eating practically nothing - I constantly felt sick and dizzy, and my clothes were all too big, but everything else in my life kept me from paying attention to it.

So then I was on a mission to make myself eat more. For a while I tried to make myself eat as much as I could in a day, just to get my daily recommended calories. But then, all of a sudden, I realized I was eating too much again. My portions were too big. I was gaining too much weight back.

So for the past year or so, I have been working on eating the right amount of the right foods. But it's not all about food. So I've been working on being more active as well. In the past year, I've worked out on average 1.6 times per week. This includes either 20-30 minutes of cardio plus stretching and strength training at the gym, a yoga class, or a full day of hiking or snowboarding. I have been tracking these things since February '07.

In November I noticed that my activity level was dwindling rapidly, so again I tried to ramp-it-up again. At this point I also started tracking my exact activity, and weight. Again, I'm not trying to lose weight. But the more I can track, the more motivated I tend to feel. In the past 4 months, I've worked out on average 2.4 times per week. This is pretty good, considering I was on Christmas vacation for 2 weeks in there (and did nothing during that time), plus a very lazy week in Mexico in January. If we take those 3 weeks out of the calculation, it's 3.1 times per week on average. Again - Not bad.

However, I've not been feeling any different. My body doesn't seem to notice the change in activity level. In the past, that type of change would have been SO apparent, in every other aspect of my life - but at the moment I still just feel like I'm not doing enough somehow. My weight has bounced around within a 5 pound range since September - up and down and up and down. Perhaps the fact that it's always the same TYPE of activity is to blame?

So Brian and I are planning to start taking yoga classes again in March, Monday and Thursday nights. I remember noticing a HUGE difference in my body with yoga in the past, so perhaps it'll give me the motivation I need to keep on this quest.

Also, my friend Heather has convinced me to give belly dancing a try. According to her it is an INCREDIBLE core workout, and it sounds fun besides. I'm waiting to see if I can start late in a class that began last week, but all signs point to yes.

So - Continuing to go to the gym on my lunchhours, plus yoga on Monday and Thursday nights, plus a bellydancing class on Tuesdays or Wednesdays - If this doesn't help me to get and stay in shape, I don't know what will.

And now, it is time to act on all this rambling, and go to the gym.

Silence

First Star I See Tonight, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

I have been quiet here. Not quiet all around, but here - on this front. I have thought about closing this blog, thinking "I have other interests, other priorities, I don't want a blog". But then I think about the things it COULD be, if only I really wanted it to be...

Nonsense? Usually.

I think about turning it back into a dedicated dream blog. Sometimes I want it to be a journal. Sometimes I want to force myself back into fictional writing, and perhaps this would give me a place to do that... I don't know... For now, some really brief updates on the past year or so...

Brian and Spaces (his kitty) live with me now. We are working on home renovations when we can find moments to do it.

I am focusing my creative energy on photography, although I feel I'm at a wall in a sense - I want to do more with it, but feel like I don't have the knowledge required to take it much further... I am working on the "52 Weeks" project - a self portrait every week for a year. The photo posted here was from the same photoshoot as my "Week 15" shot. It's an interesting project sometimes.

Work is work. Always busy, stressful, but rewarding in the end.

Brian and I went on little mini weekend-trips every month last year until August. In August we went to Burningman. It was a pretty awesome trip. We rented a truck and camper, and lived in it for 2 weeks on our way to and from Burningman. Brian had never been, and it was exciting to introduce him to Black Rock City.

We won't be attending Burningman this year. The theme this year is "The American Dream", which pisses me off more than I care to get into right now... Perhaps a rant for another day.

But even if it weren't for the theme, I don't know if I need to go back. This year was my third. It was still the amazing, surreal, unimaginable place it's always been, but I also would really like to do some other travel. I want to see other places and meet other people and experience other things that I never have before. And when I only have 2-3 weeks per year to travel, I can pretty much only do one "big" trip a year.

This fall was full of everything. Too busy for anything. Brian gave up his apartment in October, and "officially" moved in.

We've both been trying to focus on our health - better eating habits, more excercise. I've been going to the gym on most of my lunch hours. 4 times a week, on average I'd say. I'm hoping to add some yoga back into the mix again - Brian and I are going to take a class together on Monday and Thursday nights starting in March.

I went to Mexico in January with my sisters, my aunt, and her best friend. It was an amazing experience as well - having never been anywhere outside of Canada and the U.S. Mexico was so incredible, and I want to go back with Brian and my camera.

Brian and I are not eating meat until the end of February (Brian started January 1, I started when I got back from Mexico, on January 12). We are trying it out to see if we feel any differently, health-wise. I think Brian has noticed more of an effect than I have - He's lost 17 pounds. I still feel tired as usual, but I think that's just something I'll always have to deal with. This diet has forced me to eat more vegetables, which is awesome. Plus it's got me trying out a lot of new recipes. We are undecided whether or not we'll go back to meat at the end of it - Currently we're thinking maybe just seafood - we miss sushi. If I do start eating fish again, though, I'll make a point to only eat sustainable ones.

We've been making a big effort to be more "green" in general. We're composting everything we can, and have installed a programmable thermostat in my house - and just got a more energy-efficient refrigerator... Babysteps.

Okay, having been out of the blogging world for quite some time, I don't have much energy for it... But thought I'd give it a shot and see how it feels...

Dream - Plane Crash

Over There, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

I was in my front yard, and I saw a plane flying REALLY low over my house. It flew sharply upwards, around, and then crashed in front of my dad's house. It was a small plane. Long and skinny, but only room for about 3 people up front. The pilot ran away.

When I looked through the windows to see if anyone else was hurt, I saw a father and two children, badly burnt. Barely human anymore. There was a little girl and a little boy, and they had been sitting on their father's lap.

Much of this dream was just sadness, and shock. The scene of those burnt bodies was really brutal. I rarely dream such gruesome things. I don't know what makes it happen.

I think later in the dream my dad was taking the plane apart and trying to put it back together, but the overwhelming part of the dream was that little family, dead.

I woke up with a feeling that things aren't okay. People who don't deserve it are hurting and suffering. I felt a little afraid at the brutality of reality. Too delicate for it.

Due to a current thyroid imbalance, my emotions are heightened, and my control over them is weakened. My theory is that these dreams are coming from that, but then I wake up feeling so disturbed by the dreams, that I start each day upset, worried, afraid, wanting to run away and hide. I'm working on getting it all balanced out. One of these days.

Dream - Dad's Haunted House

Onion House, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

Last night I dreamt that my dad bought an old abandoned house. The house was well-known as being haunted, and had been abandoned for decades. He fixed up the outside really nicely - a deck, a hot tub, etc. And put his lawfirm on the main floor.

But upstairs, it was falling apart at the seams. Pieces of the wall fell randomly, and dust shook down from the ceiling everytime someone walked. I could see through the floorboards to the main floor, and was worried for my dad's safety. I told him this, and he was not worried. He said, "Well obviously if I step on a floorboard that breaks, I just won't step there anymore."

My dad is very scientific, and does not even come close to believing in the supernatural. So I joked to him, that some people think his house is haunted, just because it's been abandoned for a while. He answered that yes, it is VERY haunted. I was amazed that he'd been convinced of the supernatural. I knew it MUST be haunted if he believed it. He said the ghosts bang on the walls and the ceiling. I heard some loud banging on the front porch, and he told me that was the ghosts. I was still skeptical, and went to investigate. I thought it must just be the cats. I looked around the corner, down the hall, and saw Spaces (Brian's cat). Then I felt a cat brush my leg, and that was Spaces also. I thought, "How can Spaces be in two places at once?" and then I looked around and found 3 more Spaces. That was my proof that the house was haunted. How could cats multiply if the house wasn't haunted???

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mostly this dream was less stressful than the one the night before, but there was still tension, over my worry for my dad. Brian thinks that this dream is referring to my actual concern that my dad is making bad decisions - but I don't really know if it's his decisions I worry about. I can't really think of any bad decisions he's made that have really bothered me, but I DO know I worry about him a lot in general - his health, his safety, etc... That's probably where this came from.

And I've been dreaming about haunted houses a LOT lately. About a month ago I dreamt that Brian wanted us to buy a haunted house, and I kept trying to get used to it, but I kept getting scared and needing to escape. Hrm...

~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, that's my dream-post for today.

Dreaming...

Purple Pigeons, originally uploaded by Blue I'x.

At one point I intended to use this blog as a dream journal. I didn't stick to that for long, but today I find myself wanting to get last night's dream out of my head. And here I shall attempt to do so...

There was a guy - I don't know him in real life - who was upset. Sad, raging, hopeless. Somebody - a male authority to him, possibly a father, a mentor, or a boss - told him that nobody realized that he was "purple". This seemed to relate to some sort of emotion-ranking-system. Like, an emotion-scale or something. Purple was the most extremely dark/hopeless/suicidal color on the scale. No one realized he was there, but he was. And somehow, even after they figured out that he was "purple", they couldn't (or didn't, anyway) do anything about it.

I realized it was up to me to save him, to stop him from committing suicide. At some points I was PHYSICALLY fighting to keep him from throwing himself out the window, and sometimes I was just sitting on a couch with him, talking to him, trying to help him realize that he deserved to live.

At some point, I noticed the time - 1:22am. I realized that it was late, and I was going to be USELESS at work the next day, and worried I would get fired if I didn't get some sleep. But knew that this guy's life was more important than my getting sleep - and hoped my bosses would see it that way.

His family decided they didn't like me meddling in their business, and made it clear that they meant to harm me. A portion of my dream was spent trying to run from that family, but trying to protect the guy at the same time. Lots of hiding, running through hallways and doorways in a buildings I don't recognize.

Another portion of my dream (perhaps relating to my worry about being fired if I was too exhausted), I had like 3 bosses. One of them was my boss from when I worked at Stantec, and she was on the scary/intense side. In my dream, she told me that my job was going to require me to endure a rather invasive surgery. The surgery itself would take a couple days to complete. I don't know what the surgery was for, but my chance of survival was less than half. I called my dad about it, and he said "if that's what your company requires of you, then that's what you have to do. End of story." So I agreed to go through with it, but was terrified I wouldn't survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then I woke up, a little later than I should have, and felt intensely stressed-out.

I don't know who "guy" was - He was dark-haired, and possibly Italian or something. I don't think we were "involved" in any way in my dream, he was just someone I had to help. He wore sweatpants (navy blue) and no shirt.

The dream took place in a building that was dark, in shades of black/blue/green. I think at some point it was the family's home, but at some point it was an apartment building, where he lived, but his family didn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been having really stressful dreams again lately, and so I thought that perhaps if I get conscious of them again, remember them, record them, etc, maybe I can see some patterns and work the bad ones out of my head. Maybe?

We'll see.

Any thoughts on possible symbolism/ideas/etc, is always much appreciated!