Circling the Drain

I'm in Saskatoon now.

So much can happen in just a couple of weeks. Including coming home to Saskatoon for the summer. Including hearing six gunshots right outside my window, and watching as (within minutes) 15 police cars and dozens of cops flooded my block, crime scene tape is criss-crossed along the street, and my neighborhood turns into an episode of CSI Toronto.


Including spending five days completely sick and feeling VERY sorry for myself, so sorry in fact, that I decided to google all my ex's at once to see how much better their lives are without me.

Really, it's the best thing to do when you want to continue circling the drain.

I also re-watched both seasons of True Blood in preparation for season three's series premiere, which starts on June 13th. How am I going to get anything done this summer?

I'm meeting some wonderful friends for drinks tonight on a patio. Patios really are the best part of summer. I've been wanting to put this clip up for awhile, so here it is. Sometimes we cry for no reason, and sometimes we have to laugh at ourselves for it. And it usually feels strangely good.

Rocket Man

Last night I went to see my friend perform in the queer choir Singing Out. It was super fun, and the perfect evening for a concert, though the church was a little on the warm side. They did a couple of hilarious numbers (the ladies performed a song called Big Butch Woman and the guys did a little soft shoe, jazz hands action with a song called The Fundamental) and the rest were more traditional chorus type songs. They did do a lovely rendition of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, which, as it always does, broke my heart.

Anyway, it was a lovely evening and to top it all off, the night was so beautiful and all the Toronto flowers were so fragrant that I went for a nice long walk in a t-shirt and jeans. I love this city. I really do.

An added bonus was the fabulous queenie David look alike who made me think of David's venture into the gay chorus in 6FU. Here are some little clips for your viewing pleasure:





I love this one, mainly because I love Elton. He featured prominently in my childhood, on road trips with my family.



Today it's a grey, grainy day and I'm looking forward to reading and relaxing and perhaps drinking some hot chocolate.

Breaking Your Eye Open

It has been a month since I've posted. Over a month.

No specific reason, except that I've been cocooning a bit. Which is fine, I guess, but I really need to get back into things. I'm pretty sure I only have about two readers, but I like those two readers. Two readers, you are both super awesome. And I really really don't want to disappoint.

A friend of mine sent me a 6FU quote a few weeks ago that I wanted to include in the blog. It's a quote I sort of agree with, but am also kind of unsure if I totally believe it. It's a quote by Nate Fisher.

"Love isn't something you feel, it's something you do. And if the person you're with doesn't want it, do yourself a favour and save it for someone who does"

I originally thought this was when Nate was with Lisa, but I mixed up episodes and this is actually from the fifth season, when Nate is with Brenda and Claire has just ended things with Billy and he's totally obsessing over getting her back. I suppose context really is everything.

I've been wondering about this statement, 'Love isn't something you feel, it's something you do.' I don't know what to make of it. A big part of me agrees with it, that love must be followed with action, and how you behave around your lover/partner, how you treat them really does make a difference. If love is something we do than we must focus on doing 'right' by the people we love, putting their needs above our own, not in a way that totally compromises our own being, and yes, we should also be prioritizing our own needs, but we must concentrate on what we can control in a relationship.

I suppose my hesitation to fully ingest this definition is that it seems to discount the mystical understanding of love, which is important. But perhaps in our society we put this up on a pedestal far too often, when we should be focusing on how our actions can portray the love that we do feel.

I'm not exactly sure where I stand. I get very caught up in the romanticization of love and sometimes I want to just focus on feeling good. I don't want my actions to have such weighted consequences. I don't want my love to be measured by my behavior. But that's just plain selfishness, on my part. Because isn't that what we should be striving for? To simply just be good to others? To act with integrity, which doesn't always mean 'getting it right', but it means that we try our very best to treat others respectfully and if we make a mistake we are willing to own it?

In theory, it seems quite simple, actually. In practice...well, anything in practice can and probably should feel like work at times. I mean, why else are we here except to improve ourselves as humans?

I've been thinking a lot about a specific scene in Season 4, Episode 1. This is one of my favourite episodes because the grief and pain is so intense that everyone is walking around all emotionally bloody and with big gaping slimy wounds that won't close. And those are always my favourite episodes because they are the most real and the most honest. In this episode, Lisa is dead and Nate and Lisa's family are trying to come together for the funeral. Of course, no one can agree on how best to honour Lisa's memory and everyone is in too much pain to compromise. At one point, David escapes to Claire's room, who is dealing with her own heartbreak over Russel, the abortion and Olivier's messy interference in her life. She is studying the work of Nan Goldin, one of my favourite photographers.



She tells David she's trying to 'break her eye open' like Olivier taught them in class, to see the world in a fresh way, 'without all the same tired associations we've had'. She refers to it as 'the hardest fucking thing in the world'.

So here we all are. Trying to break our eye open. Trying to see everything without painful memories, without past heartbreaks or trauma or irritation. Without baggage. To see for the first time, or perhaps to see in spite of knowing what we know.

Ripening

Oh my god, why do I suck?

I've had a REALLY difficult time blogging lately and I don't know if I have any real excuses/reasons, except for the fact that even though I still only teach once a week, I've been mad busy lately. I'm working on a couple of important (to me) writing projects and I have to say that it's crucial for me to put that energy into those projects when I have it. I've also had some company lately (my mum) and will have more company soon (my sister and squishy nephew) and have been going to the gym a lot and trying to clean the bathroom and dropping my phone one too many times and just generally being awesome.

I think it's the curse of the To Do List. I've started putting down things like, Get Up and Shower and Feed The Cat, because it's just oh so satisfying to check things off a To Do List. I've also been reading a lot lately and have been going back and forth between three novels, (Holding Still For as Long as Possible by Zoe Whittall, The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb and February by Lisa Moore) each of which are satisfying for different reasons.

So, anyway, yeah. I have about 10 6FU related blog posts that I've started but can't seem to get the inspiration to finish. I also really need to get back to the major job hunt. You know, the one where I go from business to business and try to look desperately pathetic enough so that someone will hire me for $10 an hour.

This is the tricky part about being mostly unemployed for several months. You get used to it. You learn to enjoy and the panic slowly seeps away. You forget that jobs equal respect and dignity and you ignore the fact that you ever thought you needed those things from society anyway. And if you're an artist of some sort, you spend time working on your craft and suddenly you realize that you can easily fill up the days and feel completely satisfied with your life. Possibly for the first time ever.

I sort of feel like Claire in this really ridiculous scene with Ruth. She's being such a little spoiled brat right here, but I kinda feel it. All she wants to do is go to Spain with Billy and 'ripen' (most hilarious bullshit phrase ever), and all I really want to do is stay in Toronto and work on my writing projects and never ever EVER have to work for a mere $10 an hour at some shit service or retail job again. So I'm feeling kind of like a spoiled baby these days.

Every Day Above Ground Is A Good One

I've been sick this week....

Why am I always getting sick? It feels like this happens every month these days. I also had a few frustrating rejections in my writing world, though I was pretty out of it with my neo-citran high, so I don't really even remember much of the pain of that.

This is going to be a bit of a gummy post. I feel strange every day. There seems to be a lot of huge, potentially life-altering decisions that I need to make soon and I'd rather just cocoon up and dig a little hole inside my head to climb into. Or out of. Or something.

It's been raining in Toronto. A good time to snuggle in bed with loved ones. If you aren't too irritated with your loved ones, that is. Or if you aren't so frustrated with yourself that your loved ones seem particularly out of reach.

There is something about isolation that both feeds me and makes me a bit mad. Crazy mad.

Cacophony

Yes, it's been a few weeks.

There are no real excuses here, but I did have some issues that needed to get cleared up with my new teaching job, and then I began prepping, which of course filled me with anxiety until I was actually IN the classroom. High school students are kind of terrifying. Luckily I have a fairly good poker face (I practiced that face on friday night while playing actual poker) and I don't think they noticed how nervous I really was.

This weekend I went to an incredible art show at the CNE. My cousin was working there and got me a complimentary ticket (Thanks H!). Of course, when she said art show, I was picturing it in Saskatoon terms. A nice sized gallery with maybe a dozen artists. I suggested I would come towards the end of her shift and we could walk around for an hour and then go get some sushi. I got to the Queen Elizabeth building at the CNE and just about fainted. HUNDREDS OF ARTISTS were showing their work at this show, displaying practically every possibly medium. There was installation, photography, painting, drawing, sculpture, blown glass, mixed media, digital art, etc etc. It was fucking amazing.

I pretty much had a panic attack as soon as I walked in. And, as if I couldn't have been more overwhelmed, the first artist's work I walked up to look at was none other than the fabulously talented Beverly Hawksley....Hawksley Workman's own mother. For those of you who read this blog who know me well, you know what this would've done for my existence. I was completely star struck. I introduced myself and we chatted for a few minutes. She's a very kind and down to earth person and while I babbled on about how much I worship her son (possibly mentioning at some point that I plan on having his babies....), she said sweetly, 'that's so good to hear, I will pass that message on to him'. Of course her work is stunning. Some of it is printed in Hawksley Workman's book, Hawksley Burns for Isadora.

Anyway, it was basically amazing for me. Here are some Hawksley Workman videos for your viewing pleasure:








And here is my all time favourite HW song:



Cacophony: best word ever.

How does all of this come back to 6FU? One might think it doesn't, but it does. Seriously, how could it not? 6FU has some fabulous songs written and recorded by some fabulous bands/musicians throughout the series, including but not limited to: Arcade Fire, PJ Harvey, Cold Play, Nina Simone, Jem, Sia, Radiohead, Interpol, Death Cab For Cutie, Lamb, and Zero 7. And let's not forget about the great Thomas Newman. There is also a rather large artistic theme running through the series. We have Billy (played by Jeremy Sisto), Brenda's scitzophrentic brother, a photographer and a loose cannon when off his meds. And, of course, Claire, who's artwork and artistic desire (as well as her desire to seek a place among the misfits of her world) features prominately in her story arc on the show, and includes friends and lovers who attend art school with her. Then we have Olivier Castro-Staal, Claire's indignant and self-absorbed art teacher who deflowers her boyfriend Russel's (Ben Foster) gay virginity and then looks Claire in the face and says, 'what a baby...just because I fucked your boyfriend. Real pain is what you need."

But it's not just the characters and their lives. The show itself is a work of art. The shots, the lighting, the sets. Even HBO itself shows its commitment to its artistic vision by these innovative promos they did for each 6FU season:

Season 2 Promo:


Season 3 Promo:


Season 4 Promo:


Season 5 Promo:


Stunning, right? Each one gives teeny tiny hints to what will be coming up in the next season. What a way to advertise for a show. Soon, I'll be looking in more detail at Claire's artwork throughout the show, possibly posting some of my own humble photographs.

I think it's rare to find a show that is well written, incredibly well acted and visually stunning. Perhaps that's why I feel so fulfilled while watching 6FU. All of my senses are completely satisfied. Well, except perhaps touch and taste. But I'm usually eating tasty food while I watch the show. And I'm likely holding the hand of a dear friend.

Best Fight Ever

So while the show may hold the theme of hope at its heart, it also holds immense pain, sadness, rage, fear and grief. I'm not having the best day today, and as always, when life is as disappointingly tragic as it so often is (for the existentialist in me), I can find a certain amount of gratification in HBO. In other words, there is a 6FU scene to go with every occasion.

This is Brenda and Nate's biggest and most horrifyingly amazing fight. It is a kind of monster, all flesh gouging fangs and claws. It is the kind of fight that owns you, that becomes epic and spills out every part of your insides until you're left with the bloody guts to clean up. It is full of truthful hateful accusations. It's the only thing that's comforting me today. Let it comfort you too. Other people, even if they're fictional, have it worse than we do: