sylphofthestitch
My Thesis, In Retrospect
It's been now about four weeks since I handed in my thesis. Remember, that project that I spent the last thirteen months of my life agonizing over? Well, here's what I learned: the finished product meant absolutely nothing. It was all about the process. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I wished that this had occurred to me sooner. I mean, my professors are always driving home that point about process. Or, well, let's say that it did occur to me but I just wish I could have enjoyed it or maybe, embraced it a little more? But, what ended up happening, in the end, was nobody read it, not even my prof, surprisingly enough, and all the hours spent worrying about the sections and vernacular became distilled down to an essence, the one that one gets a sense of as they quickly flip through it, all in the space of about ten seconds, or less. So, that was thesis. Process. It could be a metaphor for life too, if you will.
The sense of relief, that sense of today is the first day of the rest of my life that I was really hoping for never really happened and I'm still not entirely sure why. Well I sort of know. One reason involved a water taxi, a bottle of Pimm's and a certain prominent Israeli filmmaker. The other was a more complicated series of events that involved the realization outlined in the previous paragraph, along with the age old mixture of dread and fear and worry and anticipation that only the newly graduated and unemployed can understand. But intertwined in that mix was another feeling, a less straight forward one that was a little less palatable. I don't know how to be a graphic designer. I don't have what it takes to be a graphic designer. This degree was conceived as a stepping stone. And now, I must step. And I have no idea which step to take, or how. I feel foundations rumbling underneath me and voices in my head and, of course, the endless questions, "So, are you working? Are you looking? What will you do now? What about grad school? And I feel sort of stuck dizzy in one place because I know that the things I want are a lot harder to work for than a bachelors degree.
So I'm sitting here, feeling weepy and pitifully sorry for myself for exactly three days now and the reason is because tomorrow, I am supposed to be attending my Convocation, and I don't even want to go anymore because not one single friend or family member of mine can be there. And I'm the first to say that I'm a little surprised by this mood. I mean, I didn't think that I even cared, hell, I told my family not to come. But it all kind of hit me the other day. Actually, it hit me kind of hard and unexpectedly; one minute I was singing and cleaning the apartment and the next minute I was crying. And that's when I realized that this is four years of my life we're talking about here. And it was really really hard. And ya I'm sort of freaking out right now and I'm scared and disappointed, but I also feel sort of proud of myself for making it through because there were moments with my thesis when I really wasn't sure. And now no one that I love will even be there to share in that experience with me. And I know its not for lack of caring and I can't blame anyone here but I just can't help saying that that makes me really really sad.
Update: It's been a few months now and I'm better. Convocation was difficult and extremely disappointing, there is no denying that. But I am surrounded by people who care and showed me in many ways. I am working now, in an advertising firm, and doing very well.
Reflection. Optimism. Thankful.
I'm leaving for Victoria in seven days.
You know, if someone had asked me recently when I next expected to return to the coast, I don't think I would have said '"Well yes, of course, now, in my final month of four years of university, as I prepare to complete my thesis in three weeks, yes this is a perfect time. " But really, the past few weeks, well let's be honest, the past nine months, have been hell. Month after month of floundering with ideas and concepts for my thesis, money stress, dating hell, boring routine, bad weather. I think ocean therapy will such be the perfect thing and I can't wait to find myself at the corner of MacKenzie and Fairfield, my old neighborhood, heading south down Fairfield Avenue with nothing ahead of me but a long line of just blooming cherry blossom trees, the ocean and those noble Olympic mountains against a clear blue sky. I really cannot think of a more potent elixir for my soul at this given time.
Actually, such is the power of this corner of the Earth, I sometimes fear going back. It's like reopening Pandora's box for me, this in-pouring of pureness, emotion and fulfillment that just can't be matched. I don't want an upheaval, just some enrichment and rejuvenation. It's been two years for me, sometimes I wonder how I could have never stayed away for so long. My nieces are teenagers now, one of my best friends has a baby. I miss these people, it will be good to be back.
I can't report on much else right now except to say, after weeks and weeks of wondering if I would ever really be capable of completing this monstrous project they call "thesis" and all of the essays, exams and such, I find myself thinking, finally, that things are going to work out just fine.
p.s. I'm going dancing tonight for the first time in months!
New Drug Now
Hi peeps, I have a new blog now. It's all about Art & Activism and I'm doing it as part of my thesis. I'll still be posting here from time to time but it will be infrequent as I complete my final semester of school. Here's a link:
http://smallactsofresistance.blogspot.com/2008/02/thanks-obay.html
Let me know what you think!
Winter Wonderland...
or winter hell...depends on how you look at it..
I'm sick sick sick as a dog but nonetheless I am going out into the late night blizzard to build an TTC igloo on Queen East...public space winter fun...pictures to follow...
Update
Well I've been broke, I'm not getting my scholarship this term, I had to fight with a few of my teachers about my grades, it's cold, it's raining, it's snowing, my thesis is killing me, I can't seem to stick to my gym regimen and I feel down about my body. Oh and I've slipped on ice and hit my back exactly once twice this week. It's been a rough month. Woe is me.
Christmas Eve
I'm writing because i don't know how to make this night different from any other. Does it have to be? I made this choice - to move to a city where I had little family. Even still, Christmas has lost magic for me. Each year I get a little farther from what Christmas used to be, always challenging my expectations of what I think/thought Christmas should be. And what it shouldn't. I miss singing carols in a choir, huge family gatherings and one meal after another. So here I am, alone, at home on Christmas Eve, writing on my blog, listening to carols and holding onto the notion that this night is different from any other.
Earlier this afternoon I visited the Eaton Centre. It was extremely irritating. I was desperate so I went to Starbuck's. Walking through the mall with my disposable Starbuck's cup I felt this odd, uneasy and alienating sense of participation and of belonging. I guess this is the genius of the Starbuck's brand. The capitalist system runs deep. I later went for Vietnamese food in Chinatown. Forging those new Christmas traditions every year!
I really need to stop complaining though. I've been fortunate this year - so many gatherings and friends around. Some good parties - Dan Bell played for free right in my neighborhood on Friday night. So did Alex Smoke. Saturday night was the Sumkidz Winter Solstice party. It was small and felt very much like some of the smaller raves I used to go to back in the day. The music was good - lot's of breaks and dubstep. After almost ten years, it is strange to say that I am getting very tired of minimal techno. I need to branch out. I also celebrated the solstice at the Festival of Lights in Kensington. Tomorrow I will visit with some family,which I am really looking forward to. Oh and I got a tree, my first ever, and I even have some presents under it.
So is that it? I don't know. It feels so strange to sit here and write this, thinking back on all of the Christmases past. I feel empty and strange and left out and it is not one of those things I feel I can make better by embracing my solitude. Part of me feels like giving in, turning on the tv, drinking, eating and opening all of my presents early. Is that so wrong? I could go to church, call a friend or just sit here. I think I need some new traditions. Christmas used to be a magical time. I hope it comes around again.
I'm Still Here...
...Barely...that is. It's the end of term and while not as stressful as past end of terms, the looming graduation/thesis stress continues to hang over my head, much like a pending tornado. I've been going for massage therapy which has been nice. On Friday I had some shiatsu and cranial sacral therapy done and the therapist said to me "A girl your age should not be this tense." A girl my age should not be this neurotic is what it is. So I went to yoga today. And I'm drinking more water. 'Cuz my therapist told me that if everyone just stretched and drank more water then she would be out of business.
Today I woke up to 15cm of snow! It was delightful actually. For the first time I actually thought, I sorta like winter. Well, until tomorrow when I actually need to get somewhere. I walked to my local cafe this morning and was so happy to be there that I drank two double lattes. It was a bit much.
Life has been much of the same in the past weeks. School stress, working at my new, sometimes ridiculously stressful, sometimes ridiculously easy job, going to parties, sitting in cafe's, going to Value Village and the like. Julia and I have been to a few fun parties lately. Some local dj's have been throwing these secret warehouse parties called Box of Kittens. Fun stuff. The Burning Man Decomp party was two weekends ago..super fun, usual theatrics, at a circus studio. Lot's of people in costumes, acrobatics and the best part of all, a giant table of food which I discovered on the way out. Sad, but true. No, kidding, dancing with Marta was a lot of fun. There should be some highly incriminating photos surfacing on the internet right about now, of me on a giant indoor teeter totter with a very tall, very bald, masked man in an all encompassing fun fur coat. Oh dear.
I'm torn. Graduation is in four months and I have been toying with the idea of moving to Japan to teach English for a year when I am finished. This is something I have wanted to do for a long time. It's not so much about the living in Japan part as it is the urge to do some serious traveling before I settle down into the workforce. It's hard because I know if I get a job here (if I even can, that is) then I will be making a meagre entry level salary and living pay cheque to pay cheque. But I am incredibly, ridiculous attached to a) my cat and b) my apartment. I know, I know there are ways around all of this but the thought of uprooting my life and moving gives me a giant migraine. It also terrifies me because this is a pattern in my life where I have repeatedly uprooted everything that I have and have built and took off somewhere foreign. Three out of five times it has been disastrous. Why is this?? It's probably a good thing but I don't feel exactly ready to put myself through that turmoil so soon already. I just finally got comfortable in Toronto. I guess that's the point. UGH.
Well here is another picture from the photo shoot that Jasmine and I did. Bye for now...