prairie girl musings

Category: Musings

  • On Doing Nothing

    On Doing Nothing

    b70ff5d9a296415a47886761c1c95a79 (1)

    Toronto is a hotbed for overachievers; those who rationalize being overworked and sleep-deprived. We’re New Yorkers in training, in a city that’s on the verge of growing up without any real identity. While I appreciate ambition, especially in these ever-crucial years, I don’t understand why we’re encouraging each other to work longer and harder without any real benefit.

    Does this scene sound familiar? You’re writing an email to your boss, while running on the treadmill, and updating your blog and preparing a coffee. I’ve become SO SKILLED at multitasking, that I’m unable to focus on one.single.task. at a time. In fact, while I type this post, I’m also boiling the kettle for tea, watching (or listening) to an episode of Happy Endings, and talking to my mom on the phone. Do you see what I’m getting at?!

    I recently read this article that perfectly described what I’ve been feeling for awhile: there’s much value in doing nothing at all. Many of us (myself included) feel the constant need to justify our actions and our goals. That is why I vow to spend two full days of my holidays, (I’m back in Saskatchewan, so it shouldn’t be too hard) completely disconnected. It should help that one of my best friends is visiting from New Zealand, and I’d like to devote my time to catching up (we haven’t seen each other in over a year!) and touring her around.

    How do you recharge when you know you’ve been running in circles?

    xo, Vanessa

  • Displacement and Chaos

    Image

    I still recall my very first lecture and my very first assignment at The University of Auckland. After transferring from a practical, secure science major with abundant job prospects to an arts degree in English Literature, many people probably thought I had completely lost my mind. And who could blame them?

    However, as I sat in that large lecture theatre, a gazillion miles from home, I remember being overcome with emotion. I was in a creative writing course with hundreds of other students (both domestic and international), many of whom are probably spending their days at so-called dead end jobs, stringing together paycheck after paycheck, while our engineering and commerce peers surely have the last laugh. Nevertheless, there is something to be said about being able to write. It’s a skill that many well-educated individuals fail to possess. This article in the New York Times sums it up quite nicely: “No one has found a way to put a dollar sign on this kind of literacy, and I doubt anyone ever will. But everyone who possesses it — no matter how or when it was acquired — knows that it is a rare and precious inheritance.”

    While at home in Yorkton, I came across this exegesis I had written as part of my first creative writing assignment. We were required to assemble a portfolio of work encompassing the four genres of writing we had studied (poetry, multimedia, short fiction and screenplay). My multimedia, due to its personal relevance, never fails to reconcile my belief that I made the right decision to pursue an arts degree.

    Anyway, I’ll include my original draft. Sure, it’s not perfectly written. There are gaps. But this was my first assignment, and my justification for leaving home:

    “The experience of living abroad has substantially transformed my goals and perspective. Being a Canadian in New Zealand is simultaneously rewarding and frightening, as I aim to communicate through ten paintings (four of which are present before you now.) I have photographed (and attached images) of the six additional paintings in places that demonstrate my familiarity with displacement. They are not being presented to you in one piece (or at the same time) because they are relentlessly in transition, much like myself. I have not settled in one country, but regularly travel back home while continuing my studies at the University of Auckland. Keeping the paintings together would contradict their fundamental purpose of illustrating my longing for each country, and the chaos I endure when absent from either.

    As I embark on a lengthy journey, I hold a painting depicting Saskatchewan’s wheat fields that extend along each highway. Following twenty-four hours of travel time, I will land in Saskatoon on Saturday afternoon. Shortly after emerging from the airport, this art work will be photographed at my destination.

    The painting featuring a runway and an airplane taking flight will be photographed from outside a window at the Auckland International Airport prior to the first leg of my travel itinerary. This canvas is peering out at a world of possibility, establishing its place on this earth. Geographically, Canada and New Zealand sit exceedingly far from one another. In my heart, however, they are intimately connected. While I do not have family here, I have developed close relationships with many New Zealand citizens and fellow travellers who share my love for this place.

    The physical separation of these paintings is comparable to my personal displacement. Half of my heart will always remain in Saskatchewan, alongside my family and childhood friends. The other half belongs in New Zealand, representing my desire of not being confined to what is familiar and recognizable. The displacement began in 2009 when I initially visited New Zealand on a study abroad exchange.

    The graffiti exercise presented during tutorial inspired the use of placement and exposure in my work. I decided to photograph my paintings across two continents to demonstrate the extent to which an idea can travel. With each kilometre travelled, the paintings evolve, and develop new and exciting connotations. The mapping exercise conducted in tutorial was equally effective. It enabled me to expand on the idea of a traditional map. Scattering paintings throughout the Southern and Northern Hemispheres manifest distance and displacement on a realistic and larger scale. Additional inspiration came from Allen Say’s Grandfather’s Journey, one of my favourite pieces of children’s literature. Many of the themes present in this story, cross-cultural experiences, intergenerational relationships, and family history are personally relevant.

    Following the migration of my Ukrainian ancestors to Canada, my extended family is grounded in Saskatchewan. My love for New Zealand’s vast beauty has stirred perplexity amongst my relatives who feel resiliently connected to their homeland. While I thoroughly enjoy my visits home, I have never regretted this decision to live in another distant country.”

  • The never-ending quest for meaningful work.

    The never-ending quest for meaningful work.

    I initially began writing this post almost two months ago. This mere fact speaks volumes about my ability to endlessly ruminate on a topic (read: procrastinate) and my inability to decide on a consistent theme for this blog, or my life for that matter.

    The issue of coming into one’s profession has always been of interest to me. Increasingly so following the completion of two editorial internships with Canadian magazines.

    I am an idealist; an eternal optimist. I’ve always placed great importance on finding the right career, but as I reach my mid-twenties, I’ve realized that the perfect career does not exist. I’ve yet to find a career that truly resonates with who I am. This sheds light on the question of whether a career needs to tick all your boxes.

    I had a primary school teacher who, at the age of five, knew that she was destined to be a teacher. I have always been drawn to teaching. I started teaching dance when I was still actively studying and dreaming about a professional career. Unfortunately, even after being admitted to Canada’s only direct-entry Bachelor of Education program, (which I would have completed in French) I was still undecided. I wanted to get away and see the world, not stay in my native province for the next four years. After all, I had lived here for the entirety of my eighteen years, wasn’t that enough? My feelings were further complicated after speaking to my favourite high school teacher, who was sufficiently jaded and exasperated from her own teaching experiences. Needless to say, she advised me to consider different academic routes.

    Unfortunately, deciding one’s profession at 18 isn’t something that many of us are capable of doing. I internalized the variety of opinions that came from family members, friends, teachers (and dance teachers), coaches (and vocal coaches), guidance counselors, and pastors (okay, I’m kidding on the last one.) They all had my best interests in mind, but I still felt paralyzed and could not make a decision.

    I spent my summer performing with Saskatchewan Express, our province’s musical touring company. This experience enabled me to put off making a decision about my future until the last possible minute. Even once classes began at Minot State University, where I eventually enrolled, I was still driving back to Canada every weekend for performances.

    My point is that many high school students and even twenty-somethings feel trapped. How can an individual who doesn’t know if they’re on the right path, be expected to pursue that path full-heartedly? What’s the point of giving something your undivided attention if you cannot vocalize why you’re doing it? Sure, they know what their community expects them to do, what would make their parents the most proud, what will pay the bills, and very little about their own passions or how their skills can improve society as a whole.

  • Cosmopolitanism

    “Cosmopolitanism is an orientation, a willingness to engage with the other. It entails an intellectual and aesthetic openness towards divergent cultural experiences, a search for contrasts rather than uniformity. To become acquainted with more cultures is to turn into an aficionado, to view them as artworks. At the same time, however, cosmopolitanism can be a matter of competence, and competence of both a generalised and a more specialised kind. There is the aspect of a state of readiness, a personal ability to make one’s way into other cultures, through listening, looking, intuiting, and reflecting.”

    -Hannerz, 1990

  • Ramblings and Deliberations

    Ramblings and Deliberations

    I’m sorry that I haven’t been active this week on the blog. I wasn’t feeling very motivated and didn’t want to write anything less than inspired. I know I’m prone to spitting out useless jargon and I’d like my blog to be more than a collection of my recent ruminations.

    I was able to re-focus my energy towards something positive towards the end of the week. Namely, my summer goals for 2013. I came across this article on Thought Catalog this evening, and it really contextualized a lot of what was going on in my head. I’ve spent the past week freaking about my lack of career. Sure, I’m interning at an awesome magazine and enjoying it immensely, but I still have this nagging feeling that I’m nowhere near where I should be professionally. I constantly feel like I gave up the opportunity at a very good career in favour of pursuing my passion to write (and live abroad). It’s obviously not as simple as that, but I do hope that I will eventually figure out what it is I should be doing professionally.

    In other news: My younger sister is moving to a suburb just outside Toronto, and I couldn’t be more ecstatic. She’s my best friend and it’s been way too long since we’ve lived in the same province, not to mention the same city. Case in point: many of my summer plans will involve my sister.

    So, without further ado, I introduce you to my summer 2013 goals:

    1. Train for another half marathon – Those who know me, know that I’ve been running on and off since I was eight. I completed my first half marathon after finishing high school, and it was all downhill (or uphill?) from there. My best time was 1 hour and 45 minutes at the Rotorua Half Marathon (in New Zealand). It was a trail run and I had been training on the craziest hills the North Shore of Auckland had to offer. That was in March 2011 and needless to say, I’m not nearly as fit right now. It’s time to get back into shape.

    2. Attend as many summer concerts as humanly (financially) possible – I’m a huge concert goer because many of my favourite bands toured New Zealand while I was living there. I’m not surprised that it’s one of the most popular destinations for band tours because it’s literally paradise on earth; a place most people dream of visiting. Last year, I went to Osheaga in Montreal, which was the best music festival I’ve ever been to. The lineup this year is even better, so I’m hoping I can make it again. I’d also like to attend North by Northwest, which Toronto’s version of South by Southwest. My sister wants to see John Mayer and Taylor Swift, so those are two more possibilities.

    3. Ruminate various career paths – I’m wrapping up my second internship in a couple weeks. I have learnt so much from both Ottawa Magazine and Weddingbells and I’m truly grateful for the opportunities I’ve had with both publications. It’s been wonderful getting my foot in the door, so to speak, and learning the ins and outs of the editorial industry. While I’d like to maintain involvement in the magazine industry, I’d also like to continue to build my freelance proofreading business and get my website up. I’m not entirely sure what will happen over the summer, but I’m excited to see where my editing will take me. I have also decided that I’d like to upgrade my university courses over the next year and complete all the prerequisites to begin a Masters or postgraduate program in something practical and rewarding. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to discover a fulfilling career by the time I’m thirty.

    4. Attend dance class 2-3 times per week – I have recently discovered an amazing drop-in dance studio only five minutes from my apartment. It’s ideal for me because I don’t want to commit to the same class every week as my schedule is always changing and I easily bore from too strict a routine. I love ballet boot camp, which is perfect for whipping me into shape. A one-hour dance class has the ability to completely alter my mental state. The prospect of letting go at a ballet or contemporary class is an intoxicating feeling.

    5. Explore and make Toronto my home – I am twenty four years young, but boy do I feel somewhat aged. I’ve spent the past six years being nomadic. I left Canada for North Dakota right after high school, then studied abroad at Massey University in Albany on the North Shore of Auckland for one semester. Then, it was back to Minot for a semester before moving home to Saskatchewan to work at the dealership and flower shop while applying to transfer to the University of Auckland. Auckland became my home for two and a half years before I returned home for the summer before starting my internship in Ottawa/visiting New Zealand/travelling to South Africa for a month/moving to Toronto to begin internship numero dos. Don’t worry if you’re no longer following because it makes my head hurt just to think about it all… For those who know me personally, I’m sorry if you read that all. It’s an absolute bore. Needless to say, I am ready to settle down for the next little while. It’s been INCREDIBLE having my Kiwi boy here with me, and I don’t know what will happen if he isn’t granted residency. I can’t imagine moving again in less than a year not because I don’t love the constant change of scenery and the excitement of exploring new horizons, but because it makes maintaining friendships difficult. It’s nice having a core group of friends that you can call if you’ve had a rough week and need to consume an entire litre of Pinot Noir.

    That being said, I do enjoy Toronto. I like the urbanity of living downtown and having everything at my disposal. Your twenties are about being hedonistic. They are about maximizing on pleasure and not feeling guilty about it. I’m all for bountiful pastures and living skies, but cosmopolitanism is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

    So, there you have it. My goals are broad, much like my life and my current scope. I could get down to the nitty gritty details, but I’d hate to bore you any longer.

    Until next time,

    V.

  • Frankenstorm

    Frankenstorm

    The words on everyone’s lips, Hurricane Sandy has resulted in widespread power outages, various airports being closed, and the possibility of endangering up to 50 million people. The storm has already been compared to the Perfect Storm of 1991, and has already caused considerable damage across the northeastern states. According to CTV News, New York and Long Island will bear the brunt of it: “As rain from the leading edges began to fall over the Northeast on Sunday, hundreds of thousands of people from Maryland to Connecticut were ordered to leave low-lying costal areas.” Set to hit Southern Ontario and Quebec this afternoon, we’re already feeling the chill. I’ve seen a few Ottawans almost blown away while sipping my morning coffee and typing up one last article for the magazine.

    I’m a bit nervous as to whether I’ll be able to jet off to Vancouver en route to Auckland early Wednesday morning. I didn’t think I could be any more anxious to get back to New Zealand. Fingers crossed Hurricane Sandy keeps her distance.
    Image

  • American Literary Greats

    American Literary Greats

    After my first week back at work, I decided to pick up a novel I’d been yearning to read for quite some time; F. Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise. Published when Fitzgerald was only twenty-three years old, I was eager to read this novel based on his own experience as an undergraduate student at Princeton. Given that I’m twenty-three years old and nowhere near completing my first novel, the novel Fitzgerald penned at the start of his career inspires me in a myriad of ways.

    My ongoing obsession with the Roaring Twenties goes all the way back to my high school days when I was first introduced to the likes of Ernest Hemingway and Fitzgerald. My first Jazz Age novel? The Great Gatsby, of course. English had always been my favourite and strongest subject, I adored tucking away to read and re-read our course list while diligently neglecting my math and science homework. A few chapters in, I was ready to declare the 1920s as my favourite decade, a statement I can still attest to. These characters, despite their multitude of flaws, represented glamour, intrigue and a je ne sais quoi, that we can’t help admire. Luckily, with a Bachelor of Arts in English, I’ve been able to venture further into these works. I’ve seriously enjoyed discussing the 1920s and, whenever possible, throwing in some Gertrude Stein for good measure. Woody Allen’s film, Midnight in Paris, continued the trend, featuring an array of characters we were all familiar with, in one way or another. It’s one of those films you can watch again and again, laughing and wishing you, like Owen Wilson’s character, could transport back in time to this decade of boozing and canoodling.

    I am clearly anticipating The Great Gatsby in its new film-format, starring Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby and Carey Mulligan (my favourite) as Daisy Buchanan! The music, the costumes and the sets will be oh-so-fabulous! I’m already devising a plan to score tickets to the premiere! I can’t help but explore my favourite authors previous works. After This Side of Paradise, I’ll be diving into Ernest Hemingway’s The Garden of Eden. I’m looking forward to it already!

    Furthermore, who can’t resist 1920s fashion? Short hemlines, sequins, shift dresses and drop-waisted skirts are accentuated with elaborate headbands and feathers galore! Anyone who knows me is aware of my fascination with sequins and shift dresses. As much as I try to shop and dress practically, my closet is brimming with impractical and fantastic ensembles. My favourite dress is a Topshop 1920s-inspired number that suits any occasion, from New Years Eve celebration to a cocktail soirée with your girlfriends. Here are some of my favourite 1920s-inspired images:

    What’s your favourite decade?

    Love, Vanessa

  • Where the Wild Things Are

    20120720-192039.jpg

    I’ve been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s first novel, This Side of Paradise, and feeling ferociously nostalgic.

    Lately I feel as though I’m perpetually in motion, not bound to any one destination. Currently, I’m at my parents’ home in Saskatchewan. And I’m constantly taken by the solitary beauty of this place as I peer out into the endless fields and flat terrain. The skies are infinite, often cloudless and you can see for miles. If I had my way, I’d abolish all the gas-guzzling cars, enormous houses, and gigantic supermarkets and live like the nomad I am.

    This type of beauty still exists, in its own, revised way. My mother’s vegetable garden and beautiful flowers ignite the senses and feed the soul. The children I spotted today on my way to work with their homemade lemonade stand further established the exquisiteness in the everyday. Such things remind me of the preciousness of my youth. I had a beautiful, innocent childhood, or at least that’s how I choose to remember it. I vividly recall playing in our garden, running off whenever I was called to help. And sitting for hours at my red table in the kitchen, filling up notebook after notebook with illustrations and obtuse sentences. In reality, I was troubled by many things. My sister, Stephanie later told me how I’d scream in my sleep, ridden with night terrors, haunted by the unexplained. She was convinced I was possessed by demons. This is only one of the things I had long since wiped from my memory. Often we choose comfort over neurosis, even though there tends to be an inkling of absurdity in all of us. Our society seems to be discontent with being discontent and therefore, we do everything in our power to constantly feel at ease.

    The world can be an ugly place. We’ve witnessed that with the recent Batman shooting, which killed twelve people in Aurora, Colorado. I read today that the youngest victim was a 13 month old. What compels someone to viciously shoot a theatre full of people? Such brutality is often dismissed as insanity. Every syndrome and disorder under the sun is neatly categorized and defined by psychologists. Not only must we explain each disorder, we do so eagerly. We’re intrigued by disaster, disorder and chaos. The grotesque, in both theatre and in real life, perplexes and moves us. My twitter feed was flooded with #theatershooting #colorado #darkknight #killing this morning as the news broke out worldwide. Journalists from BBC, CNN, CTV and The Globe and Mail each made particular contributions which added to the story. I know I’m constantly interested in the unconventional and the unusual. I prefer films without happy endings, or with endings so unclear, so undefined, they might as well be despondent. RomComs certainly have their place, but psychological thrillers, tragic film festival winners, and terribly bleak films starring Ryan Gosling appeal to me on a whole different level. Perhaps they remind us that it’s okay to fail, it’s okay to be flawed, for even the beautiful are damned.

    V.