Photos of the Day: Ode to the West Coast

Found these gems of images from photo cds I have uploaded on my laptop. They were originally taken with my old zoom film camera, my guess is with 400 ISO film, in Aug of 2003. The first is at a place on Vancouver Island called French Beach. The second a little farther north up the west coast of the Island called Jordan River (coincidentally it's where people surf on the south part of the Island). The funny part about the images is that they aren't the best (compared to what I take now) but I was still rather intent on being prolific. Except that the definition of prolific shifted dramatically from 24-32 images per roll, to 637 jpg images or 232 RAW ones once I ventured into digital.

That figure in the first would be my brother who was probably about six feet tall then, if not over. Not that I can recall exactly. But it gives you perspective on the waves…

I am Wave, hear me roar! 

Show and Tell: A Reminder Not to be Jaded

So this weekend was spent hanging out with my Mom and some friends. It was lovely and much needed.

As the ferry left the berth in Swartz Bay (Victoria side of the crossing) I became thoughtful of all the times I've done this crossing. R and I commuted back and forth for a year after he moved to Vancouver to continue with his grad studies on site. I had to stay in Victoria to finish my last year of my business diploma. We did the best we could and took turns every weekend making the crossing and spending the weekend with each other.

Those first crossings were especially intense because of the meaning they held: they were the first tests of our fairly new relationship (5 months). It was this year that proved my first instinct the day of our fateful meeting- that we were meant to be together. It wasn't easy being apart and sometimes even being together was difficult. The stress we were under in our own circumstances could play out in these short times together. But it was always worth it in the end. And a year later I made the move to be with him, sealing our path together that would see us married and starting a family.

On this particular trip, like the many I've taken in recent years, I read my novel and listened to my iPod, occasionally glancing out the windows at the scenery going by. If you've ever taken this trip, you know how amazingly stunning Coastal British Columbia is. Admittedly, I haven't travelled enough to be objective, but I do believe that this place is one of the most stunning I've seen. I feel lucky and honoured to call it my home.

A couple trips ago, I saw a pod of killer whales. Not the first time I had seen them. As usual, when the crew announces a pod nearby, everyone flocks to the closest window or goes out on deck to find a good view. I distinctly remember almost being annoyed with how big a deal all these people were making of this event. It's not the first pod I'd seen and it won't be the last.

My response back then shocks me now but really I shouldn't be surprised. It was the first trip after the we lost Kenneth. I felt numb so my response to everything was equally numb. I remember crying, no, sobbing silently, and trying to make sure no one else saw me. It was one of the most difficult trips I ever made.

Today, like that day several months ago, the sun shone brilliantly. The sky was mostly clear of clouds. Glancing at the waves leaves you momentarily blinded as the sun glints off the peaks. The Islands, ever changing but ever the same stand guard on our passage.

I love this sailing. I had forgotten just how much. Coming back today it had hit me how much I missed actually enjoying the crossing and not just being absorbed in whatever I was doing. It had become a mundane occurrence, a fact that saddened me. Today I felt a renewed interest in the world around me, like I was seeing things through new eyes.

Maybe it's just feeling like I'm in a different and good place in my life right now. Maybe it the effect Hope can have. Maybe it doesn't matter why, just simply that it happened. I had been jaded and the veil seems to have been lifted.

These are two photos I took of another happy sailing. It was a trip that turned out to be my surprise bridal shower.

On another note, I discovered Saturday morning that peanut butter (which I LOVE) is NOT my friend. I had an apple and made two halves of an english muffin with margarine and peanut butter. By the end of the first half I suddenly couldn't chew anymore but I couldn't swallow either. I promptly hurried to the bathroom and lost my breakfast! Yay for still being pregnant! Boo for having to put peanut butter on the NO list. :(

Don't forget to stop by and see what other's are waxing poetically about...

Show and Tell: Friends and Goddesses

So today was another amazing day. I spent the afternoon with two of my closest friends who are in town. Subsequently they won't read this post till after they're home, so they won't know until then how much they can change my complete outlook on life in the space of a few hours. It's the beauty and majesty of true deep friendship at it's best. I can say unabashedly that I love them both to pieces. Today was special because I was sharing some of my ideas and plans for this year. Not only did I get great constructive feedback but I got that amazing support that one needs when they're planning to leap off a cliff and are hoping against all hope that someone will throw them a parachute. You know what I mean, right? Those moments where you want to plan big things (for me, this is a constant state of being- but I digress) and just want to know that someone will be there to cheer you on whether you fail or succeed. These two people have always done that for me and I know will continue to. We'll be those friends who gather when we're in our 80's and 90's and gab about the old days when we first met.

Now that we have the scene set, I have to give you some further background before I show you my pictures.

I first met CT the first day of our grade 9 Art Technology class. As she told the story at my wedding (she was my Maid of Honour), she was waiting for a friend to get to class and was saving the seat at her table. Well in walks this new girl, who scans the room for an open seat, spots her table, walks over and sits down. So much for the saving the seat! However, class was going to begin soon.

If you haven't guessed it yet (but you're all smarty pantses, so I know you have), the new girl was me. I had just moved to Victoria from Ontario where my family had lived the last two years. I was excited to be away from where I had been (a long story that would take a few blog posts to recount) but I was also nervous about being the "new" girl yet again. So I sat hestitantly at the table and said hi.

And so began a friendship that has lasted over eleven years. Eleven years that has seen some pretty crazy moments.

One such moment came from that fateful art class. We had had many assignments but one day our task was to sculpt (get this) a fertility goddess. We were given sample images and terra cotta clay and told to go at it. Sculpting, we were supposed to go outside and use things around us to give the sculptures texture and an aged look. So CT and I went outside to roll our goddesses on the sidewalk. But mine was lacking oomph I decided. Now you'll have to ask CT why I did this as truly, I can't remember, but I walked up the fire escape stairs (the art class was on the second floor) and I tossed my goddess off it.

SPLAT!

It was a completely insane thing to do. Yet, it yielded an interesting result:

So here we are so many years later and I have a shmushed my fertility goddess!! (and yes I've kept it)


Crap!


Really, I don't truly believe that this one incident so many years ago has any bearing on my difficulty to carry a baby.


But... I have a shmushed fertility goddess.


I am an artist. Perhaps it's time rectified the situation...

Don't forget to wander over to Mel's to see what the rest of the class are not throwing off fire escapes...