Archive for the 'The North' Category

voices and instruments make songs and sometimes videos

I have been in this bizarre place lately where I’m taking comfort and solace in John Denver, my undying devotion and love of Johnny D is well documented on this blog, he hasn’t pulled ahead of Neko Case on my last.fm stats but Tool can’t either. The disparity between Neko Case and Tool all but prove that I listen to songs on repeat which I mention in my Twitter profile. I can’t believe I am going to admit this but it isn’t like you can’t see it on my profile. Since joining last.fm on August 5, 2008, loading all my music in and then being told about Scrobbling by The C.J Hixon. [which he is addicted to like when he comes back this summer I may stage and intervention] Plays for Neko Case my all time favourite artist = 5,482 listens, Tool my all time favourite band = 1,132. Maybe there is more than I originally thought keeping me in therapy for seven years.

I’ve always all but needed music in my life to function. I have memories of being grounded as a kid and grounded for me meant the only thing I was allowed to do was read. This may or may not be why I love reading. Could have gone either way on that one, I think. The first records I remember loving were my Sesame Street ones, when left unattended I can see myself jumping around on my bed and rocking out hard, getting to listen to John Denver and the Muppets could turn into some boisterous bed jumping extravaganzas as well. If I got in trouble for jumping on my bed to different variations of Jim Henson creations I’ve blocked it out and all that is left is seeing myself in slow motion feeling it, loving it. So when I’d get grounded I have these memories of lying on the floor with the volume as low as it would go, just to hear that damn rubber ducky song ONE MORE TIME. I had that record player a long time, it of course saw the purchase of my first REAL record, Thriller. My first tape was Madonna, True Blue. Some of my first real jobs where in very low level roles selling music and ordering music for retail stores.

Recently Adam and I wear talking about music videos, I told him something I had never told him before, it wasn’t major just something I used to do so I could hear my songs that I didn’t want to buy tapes for. I was in love with Much Music and used to watch the station for hours with a tape in the VCR and my hand on the record button so that when a song came on I could instantly record it, even though I couldn’t get the same kind of volume out of the TV as I could from my [by this time] tape player. It was awesome to me because all my favourite songs and videos where at my finger tips which also made it so much easier for impromptu dance routines. And back then artists and bands cared more about what they were putting out there in regards to videos, now a lot of people get all caught up in the production and forget about the song.

I was originally going to post five videos, but when I started to think about the videos I have picked for this post It didn’t go in the direction I had intended it to, which was basically new videos that reminded me of old videos or what I want to see in music videos something that at least feels like it was made for me, the listener, and not a sales pitch.

Right, let’s get to it, shall we?

Bat for Lashes – What’s a Girl to Do? (2007)

I started listening to Bat for Lashes last year, I’m late to the table on a lot of good music these days, there is simply so much shit out there and I get lost in my folk music and every now and then pull my head out of my ass long enough to discover new to me talent. Given that I spent a good portion of my youth taping videos onto meticulously labeled VHS tapes, I feel I know a good music video when I see one.

This video struck me for many reasons, first of all I adore the song, I don’t remember how I came upon it but I know the first time I watched it, I watched it in awe, didn’t take my eyes off the screen. I don’t go so far as to wiki this shit, I was obsessed as a teen because getting ahold of music was so different back then, especially in the North. I don’t know anything about this video except what I think of it. Having worked in T.V. though, I can not even imagine how hard that two minutes and fifty eight seconds was to film, I am going to go with NOT EASY. The timing is impeccable, originality used with such deceiving simplicity, even the sweater she is wearing, I love it. There was a time when I also hung out with various boys in the Vancouver courier scene who were all about tricks and impressing girls, receptionists from the city centre, myself being one of them, they’d take me for rides on their handlebars, that is of course until till the next cute receptionist came along..

Peter Bjorn And John – Young Folks (2006)

The only thing separating us from hipsters is about fifty grand. I heard Adam playing this song one day before I ever saw the video and the whistling caught my ear because Adam can’t whistle so I wasn’t sure why he was torturing himself with this until I peaked over and found a suitably ironic video unfolding before me, not really an original idea but there was still something that made me want to watch it, over and over again. This video is detailed, the drummer’s Hulk t-shirt, polyester, timeless behavior by good ol’ young folks, we were even discussing the other day how when you are young it feels like everyone is in a band. Catchy tune, fantastic video, allows me many an opportunity to whistle in Adam’s ears, it sticks out to me, seems really thought through; drawing it was probably full of shits and giggles, maybe some safety meetings.

R.E.M. – Everybody Hurts (1993)

This video was on a lot of my VHS tapes. This has always been a go to song and video for me when I need to cry and can’t. Sometimes I’ll watch the video when I want to kill myself, I’ll have a good cry and call it a day. Message received. This video and I have been through a lot together. This song was there when it wasn’t enough and there I was in the hospital for over a week, stomach pumped, leaving my body somewhere separate from my wondering mind that wanted nothing to do with what I had done, what I was, the pain, and the fallout. Everybody Hurts. This song took on even more meaning for me after losing my buddy to the big S. I used to think you could know someone, even if you couldn’t read their minds, another reason I have always loved the message that I perceive from this video, from a symbolic place of relating to the thoughts offered up by the personalities brought to the video. Suffering from depression and feeling forced into silence for so long I wanted a car door to open for me. And now, this video epitomizes my feelings, learned the hard way, my personal feelings, that you can never ever truly know anyone, we can only truly ever know ourselves. And how many people can even honestly say that they really know themselves?

please don’t hurt me just because you can

One of the things that really stood out to me when I was in Bali last September was my mother. When my parents lived up North in Prince George I was never there for more than two weeks and from May 2002 until the middle of last year I was in and out of a serious state of clinical depression. I know I’ve always suffered from depression but after I lost a friend to suicide, was sexually assaulted in my own home, found out my dad was dying then wasn’t dying, and had a three year relationship with a man come to a dead end over email and there was absolutely no communication between us for months – it became unbearable. These incidents all took place in just under a year, it has taken a lot of therapy for me to accept that even the strongest person would have cracked under all of that and crack I did, it was too deep and wide this time, and I didn’t think I was going to make it, through a lot of it I honestly didn’t want to make it I couldn’t stand to be in my skin and set on the path of finding the psychiatrist I still see now.

In 2004 my mother started to deal with her own depression issues but because I was so depressed, up until I went to Bali I never noticed. She was just mom, a bit mopey but being in such similar states I didn’t see just how much of a struggle she was having I just knew we were both struggling. But when I went to Bali I was in a really good place, one of the best places I have been in mentally since I started to seriously deal with my mental illness. It was on that trip that I saw just how depressed my mom was/ is, I’m not 100% sure with them so far away how she is really doing but I was flabbergasted. It was like staring myself in the face. One day she was ok happy in great spirits, the next totally quiet, not very responsive or interested in conversation BUT trying her very best to enjoy every moment she had with me, which I appreciated more than I think she knows because seeing her like that, I knew how much she hurt, how badly she wanted to be happy and chipper and YAY lets all drink Bintang Birs and be a family again. But some days she just couldn’t muster it and I understood, I understood her better than I think I ever had. It also made apparent the work I had done to have been in a head space so positive I only had two bad days where I thought please no, I don’t want to be depressed, please let this day be just that – a bad day – and I didn’t do anything stupid.

When I returned from Bali, I was still in a great place. After all that happened with my parents around this time last year it was just nice to feel like I had a family again. But with anything in life there are challenges and we are always left to make our own decisions as to how we deal with them leaving those around us to try and define, interrupt, perceive correctly or incorrectly what we are actually doing or saying. And in my opinion no matter how hard you work on yourself mentally ill or not you are bound to fuck up at times, sometimes worse than others resulting in steps backwards. With myself, when I feel myself slipping when I think I’m gonna lose it I slip right back into what I want least to become – what or who people perceive me to be, a sort of a typecast if you will. With anything that happens in life that leaves you feeling negative it is going to have triggers that set your blood on *temperature setting* HELL. It’s hot, it hurts, it burns, tears just sear the pain in further. And what would you know it, last Friday almost losing a friendship brought the asshole I’d been playing; no excuses to make, only the glaring assholy facts. I just wanted to cry and get high. Oh right I did. It has been a long time since I have gotten myself so worked up that I had a full sleepless night of night terrors, and three straight days of prescription drug abuse to say I was wasted would be an understatement, I’ve already been warned I abused them enough in the past that I could have a heart attack during an episode and even that can’t stop the beast. By Tuesday I was still a fucking wreck crying uncontrollably, mentally double fisting myself in the face, so mad at myself, fire retardant anger pants where the only saviour I had. Between yesterday and today I have regained my sanity. I’m still pretty pissed at myself but I’m not known for going easy on me. But for the record, I’m done. I’m not over it, I haven’t let it go, but I’m done allowing myself any inappropriate behavior towards this situation I’m dealing with regularly in therapy. I’ve been working so hard on this I even read a bloody self help book. I’m going to get there, I’m just going to KEEP my big girl pants on now. Fuck this high school shit, tricks are for kids.

Part Empat: Around the Villa and Other Stories

I changed my mind and instead of doing more favourite photos in this Bali 2009 post I thought that I would take you around the Villa and although we went out sight seeing a lot home is where the heart is and cool stuff happened there.

the Liscumb's.

My parents have had this sign for ages it existed when my name was still my maiden name Liscumb. I am pretty sure I even asked my dad the exact story from the sign while I was in Bali but I was on vacation brain and I have no idea. It has been repainted since it was on the green fence that held my dad’s old horse in Prince George. The weather there did a number on it. I never lived in Prince George so we must have had it in Terrace too.

view from front.

This is the view from the back of the house from the top storey patio.  That mountain there that you can barely see was very hard to capture.  I made many a mental note to get a photo when it was more visible and I forgot and never did. Things like that made the place feel more real because I was able to say to myself fuck it, you can get it on the next trip.

That patio is also where the Monday massages took place. Just had to call up the woman and let her know that there would be three of us. I got there on a Monday night so I missed that day’s massage but still got two in while there. Decent massage, little different from anything I’d experienced before, I’ve had full body massages but never had it include a full butt massage as in those hands slipped into my crack on way more than one occasion.

This is the front of the house from the steps leading from the beach to this wee gate. Before I had seen the house in person I had a really hard time guessing and even picturing how my parents told me it was set up, for some reason I had only seen photos from this angle.

Facing this way on the left is the office and a bathroom and the outside sitting area, on the right is the kitchen and the kitchen eating area.  You do most of your living there outdoors.  My dad asked me after I’d been there for a decent bit how I liked living outside. I remember saying I honestly hadn’t really noticed but loved it, probably from camping so much from such a young age and spending so much time outside as a kid it just seemed natural for me to slip right into.

living area from upstairs.

I noticed while pulling the above photo for the post that a cup of MY kopi is in this photo, I had mentioned in my last Bali post – Part Tiga that none existed which I have discovered was an unintentional lie.

selamat pagi.

Selamat pagi – which means good morning, as I’m about to swig from my water bottle. I’m wearing what I slept in here so I know that it’s still morning.

I read a decent amount while I was gone, I never ever read as many books on vacation as I think I will BUT I would still bring the same amount of books plus my eBook because no matter where I am I want a variety of books to choose from which is partly what makes having an eBook so awesome, although I don’t use it much I know I will because I will eventually have to face that not cutting down on weight for trips to Bali just to be able to have a copy of a book is pretty silly. But right now I don’t feel like that.

reading outside living room.

While gone I finished Rant - Chuck Palahniuk, started and read Still Alice - Lisa Genova, Blindness – Jose Saramago, When You Are Engulfed in Flames - David Sedaris and started The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood.  I enjoyed them all, although Still Alice has me convinced that I have early onset Alzheimer’s, for real, not being an asshole. And it was sort of interesting being around a bunch of rabid anjings and kucings [dogs and cats] having just finished Palahniuk’s, Rant.

eating area & kitchen

One night I went to walk into the kitchen to get a drink of water or a bir IN THE DARK and a gecko fell off something from my opening the door and hit me in the face. I screamed like a pussy of course, it scurried off my forehead and I watched it run along well away from me. That was my only negative encounter with any lizards, although they are there and they are big, not tiny wee friendly looking things like the geckos, fucking lizards and I HATE lizards. I only saw one decent size so lets say medium lizard, thank fucking gawd.

Early evening here barbecue is being used for dinner, I can see the cover is off. Super bloody awesome cool thing about this time of day is the changeover between the birds swooping all over and catching bugs to the bats coming out and fucking annihilating the bugs. People ask me about the bugs, and there were a lot of flies, spiders, red ants, moths and mosquitoes but I was there during the windy season and so therefore the bugs for the most part kept off me.  I did have a few choice bites though, couple huge ones on my ass. I have never understood what it is with bugs and biting ass, but I always seem to get the biggest bites there.  And as mentioned right at the moment when evening meets night, you don’t even notice the changeover they look almost exactly the same as the birds, but the bats come out for the hunt and really they are your best friend if you want to sit outside as I am likely doing here it is fascinating watching them, trying to catch the birds accepting that their shift is finished as the bats suddenly emerge.  This is also why I FLIPPED when I opened the kitchen door as I wasn’t immediately sure if a bat was swooping by me or if it was a gecko.

out cold.

and out cold again same day.

So, I’m not the best sleeper in the world, unless it is a bed fat chance that I will fall asleep in it around it on it, planes can suck it I hate them I almost NEVER get any sleep.  This day however, it was my third day there I think, I can’t have been there long because I am reading Rant I fell asleep not once but TWICE. UNHEARD OF. My dad caught me sleeping on camera so I can remind myself that I was able to get myself into a relaxed enough place for that to have happened. Adam gave me grief over falling asleep in the sun to which I quickly informed him that not only had I waited the PROPER amount of time before entering the sun after applying my sun screen, I also had a my stop watch next to my head to go off AND my parents also woke me because I told them how long I was doing my front for. SO THERE.

vegas stole my sun goggles.

Basically Dr. Vegas stole my tanning googles and I’m stuck in sun glasses. Not cool little buddy, those will give me tan lines. I wore my contacts every day I was there because it was so bright that my glasses were useless. We have to make Dr. Fever some swim trunks and matching ones for Vegas because Fever is still wearing his country western cowboy hat from his days back in northern British Columbia.

carb in the pool.

CRAB IN THE POOL!

dr. fever & dr. vegas.

They hung out together a lot, they are brothers and both doctors – they have a lot to talk about. My mom commented on how much more worn Dr. V is than Dr. F and I was all dude, Vegas gets around, he travels, he goes to concerts, parties, weddings, he hangs with the ladies and he is with the band I don’t know what band but there’s a BAND and he’s WITH IT.

gazebo.

The gazebo is another awesome place to sit and read.

sunset.

And watch the sun set from.

fishing boats.

This photo falls under my favourite photos, I am photographing the lights from the fishing boats. Mine didn’t turn out, I suck in that lighting. The fishing boats are tiny seriously tiny outriggers. I will cover those in another post.

dad upstairs.

This is the only photo I took inside up stairs, that is primarily what my dad wears every day, retirement is so seriously hard as you can TELL. The windows in the far right there open to the front patio where you can watch the sunrise in the morning and watch the fishing boats come in.

my/our room.

our bedroom plus on-suite.

These are our diggs when we go visit, my bathroom had no mirror while I was there but I didn’t mind, I can go a while and not need a mirror, for serious. If the trip hadn’t have been a surprise my dad would have put a mirror in for me but he couldn’t do little things like that, everything had to be HUSH HUSH HUSH don’t do ANYTHING to that bedroom because my mom is snoopy, really aren’t all moms though?

One morning near the end of the trip I was sitting cross legged on the bed text messaging Adam and I had JUST pressed send when my bed started to tremble and shake or more like slide back and forth, took me about as long as it did during the earth quake in Vancouver for it to dawn on me that it was in fact an earth quake. I yelled up stairs “don’t you feel that?”, it rumbled a bit more and stopped. It hit Kuta about 100 kilometers from us. Wasn’t one of the ones that caused major damage around that time in September but still, that only means the people in Kuta were lucky that day.

indoor downstairs sitting room.

As I mentioned windy season, my dad has a shirt on so it was one of the cooler days, again with the kopi mug I see it, the afternoon cup o’ kopi I am now an unintentional two time liar. Oh right this is the ONE day it stormed, if you look out the doors you can see the seats from the sitting area pressed together and against the wall, the storm wasn’t long but it was EPIC. And if you look really closely you can see some water on the tile.  I wasn’t really sure about the tile when I got there because generally I do not like being barefoot anywhere and I was worried they’d be slippery. Best tiles ever, who needs shoes, that is all I have to say about those tiles and that it was a delight for the first time really in my life to be shoeless everywhere around the house.

cock in the yard.

cock.

Almost every afternoon anytime after fifteen hundred hours cocks come into my parents yard and help my dad with his gardens, they clean out the bugs, it is a sight to see. I don’t know why they go by cock there instead of rooster but they do and you can talk about cocks all day long. COCK COCK COCK. They are not like farm cocks or any cocks I’m used to, for example I DO NOT remember them being so vociferous in the Cook Islands where I did not stay at a resort, they were all over our house I have loads of film photos of them. The cocks in Bali NEVER SHUT UP.  They must really like the chicks and warring over territory.  I call this cock the cock dwarfer.

That concludes Part Empat. Catch up on the Bali 2009 series here: Part Satu, Part Dua and Part Tiga.

Calendar Wars.

So basically we don’t follow the rules and we only have one tradition it started innocently enough with a Nuns Having Fun calendar, it was deemed Adam’s pick and then the next year brought forth a gift of a calendar making it technically my pick and then the calendar that changed everything, the calendar that meant war.  Need I say more than Adam’s pick and Men with Buns? Oh and click this link now for some Men with Buns action, you want to trust me.

Continue reading ‘Calendar Wars.’