About Joy

She’s neither tall nor short. Hip nor smart. Fast nor slow.

Joy is an emotion that rests in all of our hearts.

Over lunch today I heard the all too often worried conversation from one of my classmates.
“What happens when we finish school? Will I get a job?”

That would be perfect. Complete this monumental investment in ourselves and get a lucrative seat somewhere that jived with all of our learnings and creative juice.

The harsh reality is, that there are no guarantees.

Then one of the administrators sitting with us chimed in and got me mulling.

“Don’t kill the joy,” she said.

The way I heard that was, stop worrying. Keep going.

How very true.

So about that joy...

The Culture of Colour

Created in Illustrator.

It's been a really busy week at school. For the time and effort I've put in I have been most pleased with my results.
Of particular interest to me was what I came up with for my Colour and Concept class.
The objective of the assignment was to listen to different genres of music and create some colour palettes as a result.
This portrait of colour popped into my head whilst listening to a subtle country interlude.
More variations in my palettes evolved depending on the genre. You can see the assignment here. 
When I sat back to look at them all each struck a different emotional chord.
There's culture to colour. All around us it creates a mood and vibe.
Without it, how would we feel?

Connecting the Dots

Been a journalist almost all of my life. 

It started when I was nine. I had this affinity for writing down cool quotes on scraps of paper. Things people said. In person. On the TV.

I’d bundle them up into a pile and there they would sit.

Sometime later I’d write something. Picking and choosing the relevance as I went along.

My time in newspapers and magazines has come and gone. Same with television.

I’m here now. In the blogosphere. Still tuning in though.

Last year I caught a re-run of an in-person interview with The Right Honourable Paul Martin. The topic was Aboriginals.

It wasn’t long after I had returned from a volunteer experience in Uganda. Documenting the hope. Helping out in an HIV/AIDS clinic.

It struck me hard. Here we are, so many of us – travelling overseas to help out when we have some serious issues, very similar to what’s going on in Africa for example, in our own backyard.

What are we doing about them?
Are we helping to restore clean drinking water? Building schools? Teaching English?
Nope.

Which had me asking the question.
How can we?
So I contacted the Right Honourable Paul Martin’s office.

Education initiatives, funding, establishing that kind of assistance to help the growing population is all in the works.

But what can I do? 

Like, you and me.

It took a while (six months actually). Last week, I heard back.

The answer.

Inspire.

I do media. I write. Take pictures. Currently I’m studying Electronic Media Design.

The Right Honourable Paul Martin’s assistant suggested I contact the Regional Chief and then some nearby Aboriginal schools and go in and speak with the students.

Educate and inspire them in what I’ve done with my life, so hopefully they’ll want to finish school and carry on. Find hope for their future.

That’s easy I thought to myself after I hung up the phone.

It’s not making clean water or getting rid of mouldy housing. But maybe in a small way it will help.

Give them hope for living.

For life.

Happy Computer

Migrating an old Mac to a new Mac can be a chore. Especially when you’re me. Technically challenged.

It took me three times before I thought I got it right.

Tuesday I downloaded a schwack of HD footage for my Final Cut Pro X class.

Then the fans started coming on. My battery life went down to zilch. I was baffled.

They weren’t turning off.

Even at night.

Too much on the desktop maybe?
Nope.

Advice from here and there – re-install. Start all over again. But before that dump the goods to a back-up drive.

Finally I went to the be all and know all. The Coordinator of my Program.

“Should I book it into the Mac store?” I ask sullenly.

While still under warranty a “Diagnostic” test was advised.

The forums I’d read clearly indicated, “Houston, you have a serious problem.”
Before heading over I tried one last thing.
MacKeeper.

Then I had to plug in and sure enough the fans fired up again.

I’d been having issues when logging in. As well as with iTunes. So I broke down. But I called first.

Was told two to four days. First come first served.

But… but, but I’m an EMD student… I need my computer!

I arrive. Pathetic all over my face.

I’m given time. I’ve given expertise. I met a GENIUS!

Yup, the Mac Station dude fixed me up.

Got his goat on the iTunes issue but he killed it.

And brought my computer back to life.

Happy computer.

Happy ME!

Editing Life

As I stepped off the boat onto the dock and into the snow I saw unfamiliar tracks. Ahead of me was the owner.

A Great Blue Heron.

Gingerly I approached as time had crept up on me. I was walking and I needed more then I had to get to school in time.

Slowly it gave way and proceeded ahead of me. Not to flutter and fly away, but to move aside.

It was a beautiful moment.

We respected each other’s space and purpose.

This afternoon in Final Cut Pro X class, Alec our teacher began in ernst a discussion on cutting footage.

On editing life.

Moments captured in time on video with audio, that which may never ever be seen or heard again.

We don’t keep what we don’t want to remember.

“Editing is about selecting the moments in time,” he explains.

The crap is gone.

Like what we choose to remember.

When we edit our life.

Random Conversations

The bike is a getter. I’m cruising along this morning and this guy pulls up beside me on his rollerblades (only in Vancouver).

“I rode across Canada last summer, you should do it,” he says.

Like, how did he know that was on my bucket list?

So random.

We chat, he says he’s not sure what to do next. I suggest Europe. France, Italy (also on my bucket list).

Then he tells me about a web site that some pals who he rode with talked about. Waterscape. Cycling routes along canals and waterways in Great Britian.

Now that’d be cool.

My mind got meandering. I’d heard on the radio this morning the regrets people have on their death-beds. Like working too hard. Not enough time with friends. Not living their dreams. 

Too many nots.

Only yesterday a friend of a friend’s committed suicide.

How life can change in the wink of an eye.

So for the remainder of my roll to school I tried to hatch a plan on how to use my learned school skills in Electronic Media Design - upon graduation, and create a job to get paid to do what I love. Engage and inspire others, by riding my bike across Canada.

All sparked by a random conversation.

So random.

Kudos to the Teachers

Doesn’t happen overnight. Figuring out certain coding in the web world. For me anyway.
I’m pulling my hair out today. Still trying to work out the HTML5 and CSS syntaxes for a web site build. 
Thought I had it nailed till in came three images and one div, all to be lined up side by side, some padding here and there. A background colour.

No worky.
Still no worky.
Went to the bathroom.
Came back, tried again.
Got some water.
Another try. 
The mind went for a walkabout. 
Got sidetracked. Daily drama. Onto Gmail for some pinging. 
A moment of silence then the kindness of a certain teacher. 
Messaged me about another project (also coding) that I’d spent a LONG time on (also pulling my hair out on)… passed along some kudos on the work I did on my finals. 
Made me happy. Spread a grin.
I muddled on. 
Still haven’t finished.
Kudos to all my teachers though. 
I won’t give up.

Amazing Women In My Life

I have a godmother.

I call her Aunty Lil.

She has a beautiful soul.

Last night I went for an overnight visit. She treated me like a Queen.

It was the last day of term one of school for me. I was eager to share with her what I have been working on.

She was standing outside in the dark and the cold waiting for me. She saw my bike light.

“Janey!” she said waving me over.

The roads were frosty. I’d had to call her twice on route. The darkness confusing my sense of direction. Given I’d gotten off at the wrong Canada Line stop.

Dinner was all ready. We dove in during idle family chatter.

When the dishes were piled I opened my computer up to show off my learnings.

With every turn of a project she glowed with the excitement I felt in displaying it. 

Later, together we mused over Piers Morgan and then a TV show before bed.

I’m given my own room, my own bathroom and a comfort gift of a lovely warm scarf with a Christmas card and a holiday shopping chit.

In the morning after a long hot bath I’m again showered with a delightful meal and coffee. Constant chatter of economics and stocks, art and people.

I depart with lunch and dinner and another gift of a winter coat. Her schedule is busy. Time dictates social mustering of friends and more family. We might not see each other again before Christmas.

As I roll away I shout back over my shoulder, “I love you!”

She feels more like a sister then a godmother.

How I do love her so.