HURT

I apologize for not blogging last week, but I was involved in a serious accident.

I went to get my hair bleached at the salon I go to regularly, and I suffered a chemical burn up the back of my scalp after the stylist applied the bleach to my hair. 

My scalp is covered in open blisters and I have been stoned on painkillers for a week straight, along with a number of other medications. 

When it happened, I was rushed to the Emergency Room by a friend of mine. He was kind to me, and he told me it was going to be alright but I couldn’t stop sobbing. 

I tried really hard to stay calm but it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. They treated me immediately when I came into the ER, pouring ice water over my head and putting a wet towel on it and providing me with painkillers.

It was equally painful, although in a different way, when all of my hair fell out in my hands in the bathroom of a dingy Safeway when I was released from the hospital and went to fill my presciptions.

Although, looking on the bright side, something good came from this: if there is anything that can speak to a story about female standards of beauty in North America, it is this story. I truly felt what it was like to be far outside those standards, with swollen eyes from crying, a quarter of an inch long hair, and drowsy demeanor from all the medication. 

I also had the opportunity to feel like what it’s like to have someone care for me. 

Here is a picture I took to represent how I was feeling when I could get out of bed a few days later. I have some other ones that I am planning on using in the collection.

By the way, I never said this yet but I have always meant to: I reeeive most of the feedback through Facebook messages so I wanted to thank everyone on here for reading and telling me their thoughts.

A few days after being released from the hospital, with my head wrapped in a scarf I will have to wear for a month after losing my hair.

ROUGH

As of now, I have two rough drafts of stories done.

I wrote about one being what one believes about oneself, and in the story the character is a smoker who continues to smoke because she believes herself to be the qualities, both positive and negative, that define the classic example of a smoker.

She also smokes because she misses her mother, who passed away from cancer-related smoking, and in the story the cigarette takes the form of a character named Sigourney.

I also completed a story about role models, using the interview I conducted with the sex trade worker I met a while ago. That one was hard to write because I was not sure what details to include, and what to leave out. 

At least I am making progress. If there is one thing I have learned in Creative Communications, it is not to be a perfectionist. It is best to simply get out a written draft, even if it feels like it’s being vomitted out, and then start to work on it. At least you have something to work with at that point.

I will continue to seek inspiration and to have fun with my creativity and to write my stories. 

IT'S IN YOUR BLOOD

I am posting a picture of the photoshoot I did most recently for the collection.

I had a friend of mine model, and she was a perfect subject because she models nude for local art classes, and she is familiar with how to use her body to convey different messages. 

I felt as though I was truly part of an artistic collaboration, and I am thinking of using the photographs to accompany the story about one being what one believes about themself, or female standards of beauty in North America. It will be an opportunity to use the menstrual cycle as a symbol of youth and health, rather than something to be grossed out by, or something that is frowned upon.

PARENTAL GUIDANCE

I am very excited to report that I conducted my last interview for Late Bloomers!

My subject was a young woman, around 25, who throughout her life maintained a very difficult relationship to her mother, who suffered from mental illness.

She told me some really sad details about her mother acting angry and sad all the time, as a result of depression, and only saying goodnight to my subject while sleeping. My subject told me she would crawl into her mother’s room every night to say goodnight, because even if her mother was not awake and possibly did not mean it, she wanted to hear it. 

I think the interview is great for the story I am going to write, as a theme many young women can probably relate to is a difficult relationship with their mother.

I am relieved in a way to have this inteview done, but this means I have to start the writing process which, admittedly, is getting a little easier.

I wrote out some plans for the structure of each story today and I am going to continue to work on it. I am hoping to come up with some rough drafts by next week so I can submit them to my advisor at school and get them edited. I also have a photoshoot planned next week, so I will post a sample photo from it most likely. The concept is a little risque so I am hoping for feedback through comments and messages.

THE REAL SLIM SHADY

I apologize for not blogging last week -- Hanukkah usually doesn’t get very busy around my house but this year we had a lot of guests passing through.

My mother gives my brother and I each a few small gifts for the holiday, and one of the gifts I got (after asking for it a million times) was Eminem’s Recovery CD.

Slim and Hallie

I am conflicted about my love for Eminem, and especially the way he has inspired Late Bloomers. 

I hate that his music is violent, and I hate that the violence is usually directed towards women (I have a hard time listening to Stan all the way through). It would appear Mr. Eminem, as MJ used to call him, goes against many of the things I strongly believe in.

However, I admire his honesty. When I listen to his music, I believe what he says. He reveals himself through his art honestly, and it takes courage to do that. I also like listening to him because he makes me consider the role of autobiography in art, which is something I have given some thought to when it comes to my own collection of short stories. I have asked myself how much I should let my own personal experience be part of the collection, in addition to all the inteviews I have conducted. 

I am also very interested in and impressed by and in love with his brilliance as a lyricist. I love how he can make the word fuck sound beautiful, and the world love sound evil.

Well, I am going to listen to the CD now again for the fiftieth time since I’ve gotten it. I can’t get enough of the real Silm Shady.

p.s. It’s not on Recovery but listen to When I’m Gone, and watch the video. His best work in my opinion.

LANA

The following photograph is an extra from the latest photoshoot I have done for Late Bloomers. 

I am thinking about using it for a story about standards of beauty for females in North America, or maybe she can even represent God in my story inspired by Shoshy. She looks pretty divine. 

The models name is Lana, by the way. I have known Lana since university, and I always though her inner beauty was at par with that on the outside. I admired her a lot as she coordinated the peer support group I was a member of, therefore making sure students of the University of Winnipeg had access to peer counsellors, and making sure we, as the peer counsellors, knew how to listen carefully and open ourselves to helping others. 

p.s. Yes I wear my jeans like that on purpose.

THE ALMIGHTY FEMALE

I can’t believe it’s already December and Hanukkah starts in a week. 

A personal update: I submitted my application to New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts for their MFA in Filmmaking program. I am looking forward to hearing back. It’s an exciting time because I am also on a 3 week work placement for school right now, and I am working at Tripwire Media, which is a company that makes beautiful videos and they are based right here in Winnipeg.

My friend Shoshonna, who I call Shoshy, and I have a tradition where we get together to exchange Hanukkah gifts the week before the holidays starts, and we did is a little early this year, and she drove over on Tuesday night. We usually only give small gifts and this year she gave me a hand-decorated ashtray, and I gave her a vintage alarm clock. 

While she was over, we drank tea and talked about our trip to Israel that we went on in 2011. It was a birthright trip, meaning the Israeli government and two private sponsors paid for us to go. All Jewish people between the ages of 18 and 26 (I believe) have this opportunity, but it was a very special one for Shosh.

Shosh had struggled with the relationship she had to other family members for a number of years. She is a creative soul and her family has a number of doctors and lawyers in it, and it was hard for her parents, especially her father, to accept that she did not want to pursue anything other than a fine arts degree from the University of Manitoba. It really strained their relationship and Shosh told me she stopped praying altogether, because she could not bring herself to believe in any kind of God while experiencing some of the things she faced, and learning about the condition and political climate of the Middle East through books and artwork. 

“It changed when I went to Israel, though,” she told me, and I already knew the story because I remembered seeing Shosh cry at the Western Wall. 

The Western Wall, sometimes called the Wailing Wall, is located in Jerusalem and the idea is that you put a prayer in the wall and it goes to God. 

“I met Her that day,” she said, explaining to me that God, or at least her God, is a woman. “I negotiated with Her about my life.”

That’s only a snippet of the interview I had with Shosh, and I am going to use what she told me as inspiration for a character in my story that is governed by the theme of relationship to a higher power. 

Shosh and I riding a camel in Israel.