The Lousypoet

Time turns her head.
Will she shed any tears for
this rut of existence?

Enslaved by a history written by
the man with the sword,
the man with the cannon,
the man with the gun,
the man with the bomb.

The dance of circles
never ending cycles of despair.

Who will break the cycle?
the person with the vision,
the person with the courage,
the person with the passion,
the person with the conviction.

A story to be written,
a fate not yet etched.
Determine the outcome

So I find myself on the fence in regards to the Olympics. Following Twitter and friends on Facebook, you’d think Canada had found the cure for cancer during the opening ceremonies. Sentiments such as, “I’ve never been prouder to be Canadian” were fairly common. Though I did get a laugh out of the few people who pointed out the particularly phallic nature of the large ice sculptures.

Similar sentiments of national pride erupted when Alexandre Bilodeau won the first Canadian gold medal on native soil.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand feelings of national pride. I’ve even felt similar feelings as I’ve watched the Canadian Women’s Hockey Team destroy every team they’ve faced. But there needs to be some perspective here. Being proud of your countrymen and their accomplishments is admirable. Being proud that we are hosting these games and that in spite of Mother Nature’s lack of cooperation, the events are still taking place is a perfectly fine feeling. But to have these games and any of their results be a source of your greatest sense of pride in your country? That seems to ignore the numerous accomplishments this young nation has managed.

When I first saw the poem by Shane Koyczan performed at the Olympic opening ceremonies, I had what is probably the typical Canadian response, which was, “should we really be bragging?” But after the outpouring of national pride over medals, I gave this poem a closer listen. I realised, that this is in so many ways why we should be proud. And does the poem contain a single “proudest moment?” No. Which is as it should be. No nation, not one that seeks to grow, learn, explore, and be more than it was yesterday, should have any one proudest moment. It should have a string of events and accomplishments that weave a tapestry of pride and joy.

You know what makes me proud when I watch the Olympics? That the stands are filled with people wearing Canadian flags, who shout and cheer when our nation does well, and all of them are different colours, ethnicities and backgrounds. It is a testament to our nation’s ability to take the numerous and disparate and create a country united. We don’t always get things right, and there’s always going to be someone that has to ruin the party, but in general, we are making strides that the world as a whole is failing at. In most major Canadian cities, there are Mosques, Christian churches, Synagogues, Hindu temples and all other manner of religious houses, all within walking distance. Do we have jihads every day? No. So if Canada can make it work on a local scale, perhaps there is hope for an international model.

The Olympic Games are just that, games. Whether we win or lose, means nothing to the greatness of our nation, or the superiority or inferiority of any other nation. There is skill, but there is also luck involved. Be proud when the home town team is doing well, but when they lose, admit that we got beat fair and move on with life. Don’t forget that pride though, because there are so many other things to attach it to; accomplishments realised and in progress that deserve to ignite our patriotic flame. Canadians do patriotism so badly. We really need to work on that….

The King sat upon the throne,
Benevolent, Melevolent,
Dependant upon the day

Ive been mulling over a new story these past couple of days. Like so many of my ideas in the past Im at that early love stage where Ive yet to become alienated. Im sitting in front of the computer staring at the screen. While Ive thought about the opening, I think Ive invested a little too much time in looking toward the direction of the story as opposed to actually writing it.

Now I find myself at the beginning and no matter what I write it just doesnt seem right. Sometimes the beginning is the hardest place to start. I suppose Im putting too much pressure on myself. The great audience catching opening can come in a later draft. For now, I should just try to actually write something from beginning to end. Maybe this will be the one. Or maybe this will be false start number 10.

Life changes, shifts, and moves in an unpredictable manner. Looking back on it, we see patterns and shapes that cause us pause to wonder, is there a plan?

A funny story. My mom is thinking about selling her house. Now that my dad has passed, she feels isolated in her retirement community, not to mention it is set out in the country, which makes night driving (especially in winter) at times treacherous. She wants to be closer to us, avoid the country roads at night, and generally be closer to the shops and services that she uses. So, about two weeks ago, a friend of hers in the area says a lady is looking to buy a house on their street and maybe my mom might want to contact her. My mom takes this as a sign that maybe her decision to move is right, and that now is the time. She goes about cleaning the house. One of the areas she goes to clean is the basement. While she’s down there, she notices an odd smell. She thinks that maybe it’s gas, so she calls enbridge to come take a look. Sure enough, her gas fireplace is leaking! They fix the problem, the lady comes to see the house, and she’s not interested. Now here’s the thing. If this lady hadn’t come over, my mom could be gone, along with her house and part of her neighbourhood. Makes me think, the lady wasn’t sent to initialise the move, she was there to save my mom’s life! Coincidence? Some form of universal push to keep lives on a certain course? Dumb luck? Or desperate human attempts to find order and meaning in chaos?

So this is a test to see if I can make this blog from my new iPhone work.

So I sat down and started working on Carolyn’s business logo.  She really likes the whole teal/orange colour combination, so I worked with that palette.  I decided this time around to go with the monogram style logo.  Here’s the variations I came up with.

So initially I figured I would do the classic monogram contained in border box look.  To keep it a little fresh and slightly funkier, I skewed the box so it didn’t contain the full monogram and was slightly of kilter.  The next version was the monogram just on its own above the text, but pulled and warped so that it was the full length of the name.  The next two versions are the monogram set at the front of the name, in the case of the first, the M in the monogram is actually used as the first letter in the last name.  The next one separates the monogram from the name, but leaves it at the front still.  Finally, the last two were melding the monogram and name together so that it was actually the monogram itself that separated the name from the word photography.  The only difference between the last two designs is that I trimmed the tail of the M in the last one.  I actually like the trimmed look best of these two, and I think this design is my preferred of the bunch.  Problem being, it just looks so pedestrian and common.  It says nothing of the photographer, her business, nor is there anything iconic about it.  In fact, it looks just like what it is, amateurish.  Given these designs, I think I like my original kick at the can better than all of these.  I’m just trying to plot it out in my head what I can do that will be professional, funky, and maybe kind of fresh, so people don’t feel like it’s the same thing they’ve seen dozens of times before.  Also, I don’t think these colour combinations work that well in a logo.  Maybe in larger doses in images or designs, but in a simple logo they just seem to get lost.

So it’s back to the drawing board on these.  I’m just not sure what direction to take.  I’m wondering if I should do the remodel on the website and see if that gives me any direction.  That was how I designed the original logo, it came about while I was designing the website.

Not so much because I’m a superstar, it’s just it’s something I really enjoy. Graphic design is something I could spend hours looking at, studying, and then putting my own spin on things. Maybe when Carolyn’s done school I’ll see if I can pick up some part time courses.

Anyway, I’m in this frame of mind because I’m thinking Carolyn’s website needs a makeover. It looks really amateurish, and her logo isn’t something impactful that would look good on a business card or letterhead. I’m doing my research, and marketing is a huge part of surviving this photography thing. Looking better than your competition can sometime be more important than your images. I suppose that’s a sad statement on the attention spans of our society, but sometimes you just have to roll with it if you want to make it.

Carolyn’s a big fan of the grunge look, which seems to be having a huge surge in popularity. I can understand why, I feel pretty drawn to it myself. The conundrum is how to making something professional first, and then kind of grungy and funky at the same time.

I’ve spent hours looking at logos that existing photographers are using, and they almost all use their monogram in some manner. Thing is, I was told by someone that if you are going to be a professional photographer, you should market yourself, not some random made up business name. Because the goal is to become big enough that you are what people demand. I mean, look at Joe Mcnally, Chase Jarvis, or Zack Arias. These guys are doing it under their name and are a huge success. So really, the business should be Carolyn Macpherson Photography. Just what to do with that….

The existing logo looks like this,

It has that grunge factor, but there’s no real pop to it.  It lacks colour, which I think it could use, and I suppose the whole Photography backwards is a kind of lame attempt at being original.  I’m giving it some thought.  I’ll need to look at the fonts we have.  Maybe play around with Carolyn’s signature.

I’m also left with what to do about her website.  I’m leaning toward a clean design.  She might not like the lack of serious grunge, but we need to start thinking about this as a potential business, not to mention that an online portfolio is part of her final course marks, and I want to make sure we have this thing nailed down before that deadline gets anywhere close.

It’s been two months since I last posted here. Time really does fly when you’re having…. fun? Yes, I think time flies when you’re stressed, crashing from deadline to deadline, and generally feeling like life is spinning out of control. Fun has so very little to do with the flight of time.

Just as I haven’t graced this blog with words, nor have I written a single page of my book. In fact, I’m just mothballing this whole author thing. I so would like to be a writer, but desire is truly not enough. Along the line, you have to give yourself to a project to see it through to an end. I haven’t done that. I sit and waste my writing time playing Bejewelled on Facebook, or trolling the net’s myriad of movie websites. If I’m honest with myself, I have dreams, but neither the drive nor the talent to currently pursue them. I think if I was really honest with myself, I’d have a better shot at completing a kids’ book than a full blown novel. We’ll see what the new year brings.

So I’m fairly convince God hates me. I know, it’s a stretch of the ego to believe that the great divine has a personal vendetta, but the evidence just seems to keep piling up. Check this out, my car died on Christmas day!! Christmas day! So yesterday, we find out it’s going to cost $1200 plus to fix it. This car is old, and the bills just keep piling up. So, we make the best decision, it’s scrap. But I have to get a move on to decide on a new car cause our family needs two vehicles when Carolyn goes back to school, and all the incentive programs on right now are over come Saturday. So I decide I need to get out and check out cars last night, cause I haven’t car shopped in a decade! And guess what… White out, blizzards! Yup, even one of the dealers couldn’t argue when I said God hates me.

Speaking of cars, it’s an odd thing now. I remember when I last purchased a car, you could add various features and leave others out. Now, it seems like an all or nothing scenario. It’s like, you can have the package where everything is manual, or the option where everything is automatic, there is air, a USB port for your MP3 player, oh, and while we’re at it, let’s throw in heated seats! Now, cars have evidently gone down in price, cause 10 years ago, all those options were only available on a vehicle that would cost you $30,000 or more! Now, it’s all there on baseline models! It’s a little scary. Truth be told, carrying car payments is going to be scary. On most days, we just get by. Which will mean me pimping myself out for overtime as much as they call, which will make me tired, grumpy, and probably create some mean hate for my workplace. But, if it means we get some wheels we can count on, I suppose that’s what we’ll have to do. The boys’ pediatrician is in Brampton, an hour or so away, and so is a large portion of our family. We need something safe, and we need something with a warranty! Right now, I’m leaning towards a Kia Rio. It looks reasonable, and the warranty they have smokes everyone else. I think I might take it out for a test drive today. We’ll see how the day progresses.

So I’ve been off my diet since September. Initially, when my dad died, I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve found out that I am an emotional eater, and losing my dad was just too much for my will power. But now, it’s habit, and I’ve gone up 10 pounds. I’m starting to have the same issues as when I first started the diet, so I need to get back on track. This year, I am getting to my target of 195 and doing some exercise! I need to be healthy and strong, if only so I can keep up with my kids!

The year’s end quickly approaches. I will not miss 2009. As much as it brought opportunities, it kicked us in the balls twice as much just to keep us a notch beneath grounded. I knew when the year started with me in the hospital getting my appendix out that it wasn’t a good sign, and I was right. Hopefully, 2010 will bring more joy than 2009 managed. This is a year of new starts, of closing old chapters and starting new stories. Already, I see it won’t be easy, but it is doable. I really hope to be here more often, maybe even do something interesting that someone might want to read. Until then, a very Happy New Year, and all the best for 2010.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. It feels like I’ve been moving so fast, that I don’t even know how much time has gone by. I suppose it’s a good thing that the entries are dated. From that little bit of info, it would be 27 days since I last logged in and wrote anything.

Truth be told, that’s probably the last time I wrote anything of my novel. I was stuck for the longest time. Then, in a matter of days, I wrote a chapter that I felt was the best so far, but it also meant that significant changes would have to be made to the opening. I don’t think that has me crushed. I mean, I always knew I would have to go back and rewrite those sections, and what it did to the story makes it more… compelling? It’s just now I’m stuck again, and moving at the speed I am, I can’t get my head wrapped around it. When I get the time I could be devoting to the book, I instead sit and waste my life playing Bejewelled Blitz on Facebook. Every day I feel more like a loser.

Carolyn is working so hard at school, and some of the stuff she has produced has been amazing. But it seems every day the stress of it threatens to swallow her whole. It’s hard returning to that kind of life after so long. But at the same time, I am so proud of what she has accomplished and how far she has come. If we can just get through this term and the 3 that follow it, I have a strong feeling that this is going to open some incredible doors. Which is probably why I feel the way I do. I’m watching her fulfill what seems like her destiny. It seems all I can do is stall mine. And the worst part of that is it is entirely my fault. I do have time, I could be doing something more, but I just don’t.

Imagine my disappointment that Anne Rice has a new series entitled “Songs of the Seraphim.” I have been sitting on that title for so damn long. I knew it would be good. And now I see it in print. Don’t worry Ms Rice, I know you don’t know me and that my insignificant blog would have never come to your attention. No law suit worries here… Still, disappointed. I’ll have to come up with something entirely different. Ironically, the first book in the series, entitled Angel Time, sounds pretty cool. I might actually read it.

Which brings me to the horror that if I don’t move on this story, how long will it be until someone else uses ideas that will render my story as being a knock-off. Every day I wait is each day my ideas become stale and that some existing author is going to use similar ideas. Problem being, I just don’t feel good enough to write this. I have vague notions of how I want the story to be, but I really lack the training to make it happen. I’ve looked to see if there’s any workshops in my area, but I can’t really find anything. Not that it matters, I wouldn’t have the money for it.

I lost my dad to cancer almost two months ago. God, that’s a weird thing to type. At the time, I had no idea what to say. I thought a million times about writing about it here; writing about him. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It took me nearly a week to finally cry, and I think the tears have only come once more since then. Sometimes I feel horrible, like this should be killing me every day, but then how would I take care of my family that needs me. It hurts most when something happens and I realise he’s not there to talk to. Like sitting here right now, writing this, I feel like there’s million conversations I’d like to have with him, and I can feel the tears welling behind my eyes. I’ve never been one to believe in ghosts, or visitations from beyond the grave. But a part of me continues to hope I’ll see him. And I keep hoping that when that happens he’ll have some insight into my life that I’ve failed to notice. Yup, here come the tears… I’m not going to write a eulogy here. I wouldn’t feel like anything I wrote came close to encompassing my emotions or thoughts. All I’m going to say is that I loved him and I wish he were here. I suppose that’s enough.

Shit, I don’t know where that came from. I just feel like I’m unloading a bit. I don’t know where I’m going. I feel like my wheels are spinning and I’m driving without a destination.

So many ghosts haunt me. Not the literal kind, but, well, the deeds, the thoughts, those things you hope will die with time but never do. Sometimes their weight is crushing. Sometimes I think I won’t make it. But every morning I get up and do what I can to get through the day with my sanity and family intact. Why do we sin the way we do? Are we worthy of redemption? If an angel stood before me now and said I had a purpose, and that all of this was for good reason, just what would I say to him? Thank you… probably. Just for the comfort that it all means something.

Sorry for this post. It’s all over the place, and none of those places are much fun. But I do feel better. I suppose I should come here more often. It is my space after all. Besides, it’s not like anyone even reads this stuff. But if you happen to be the one in 6 billion who does, thanks. I hope I haven’t bored you to tears.