Completed: #33. use curlers

I acquired these velcro rollers at a clothing & stuff swap quite some time ago. I realized after mentally-making-up-my-mind to use them that I didn't have any hairpins, so these are affixed with a combination of various sizes of paper clips, hair clips, and a feather fascinator on a hairband. FANCY.

Perhaps for this reason, or the fact that my hair is deceptively thick and ridiculously long [insert inappropriate joke, I know], or that I didn't leave them in long enough to dry, these didn't work for me at all.

However, here is proof that this happened:

New goal: Be on a postage stamp, yeah?

[Original goal list posted here.]

Progress: #38. go on more experiential learning trips

On Monday, I drove into Brantford by myself. The drive was straightforward until I hit the Six Nations reserve. I made it to the city in about 1 hour, 15 minutes - and then, what should have been a 5 or so minute drive, took me 40 minutes of twists and turns and revisions via Google Maps. I found my way, and I was only the 4th latest person there.

I never would have been able to accomplish this task any year but this one.

I was here for one of OTF's Summer Institutes with FNMIEAO, where the theme was reconciliation. 

During the morning introductions, Nancy Rowe said: "If at any point, someone in this circle breaks down and starts crying, we stop everything we are doing to bring that person back to where we are. Western society has it all wrong, you know." Inevitably, three people cry - and I am not yet one. They stop the circle to give clean water to drink from a copper cup - Nancy says "We shed the dirty water and replace it with the clean. Crying is healthy." 

It reminds me of Firekeeper Rob, whom I met not this past November, but the one before, who said "In Western society, they give you a tissue. Essentially, this says 'Stop crying'. We don't encourage people to stop crying. We give them water, to replenish." 

Nancy says something along the lines of "Nothing is scripted. Sometimes I say something and I do not know why. Why was I talking about crying? Ah. The spirits sometimes come in."

In the afternoon, we participated in the KAIROS Blanket Exercise, which sort of shakes everyone to the core. Educators, I suggest that this is something you take into consideration.

Later on, we carpooled to the Woodland Cultural Centre, which is the former site of the Mohawk Residential School. I've toured this place before - but this time, it was with survivor Geronimo Henry, who stayed there for over 10 years, year-round. He talked about the importance of telling stories with interspersions of humour, even if they were not largely funny. He touched on the day-to-day experiences, as well as residual and intergenerational trauma. It really got to me. I asked if I could take a photo of his tattoo, which he said was meant to be a memorial to his survival, and how he was once only a number.

He said, "Sure, and you're not the only one to ever ask." He tells us he thinks it was in Time Magazine, or something.

My trip was cut short due to a clerical error (Edit: Mine). There was no room booked at our lodging in my name. I did not cry; I made it home in one fell swoop, and was sick for 36 hours. I'm still waiting on clarity.

[Original goal list posted here.]

Completed: #35. go on a road trip

"I like the peace

in the backseat.

I don't have to drive.

I don't have to speak.

I can watch the countryside

and I can fall asleep.

My family tree's losing all its leaves.

Crashing toward the driver's seat.

The lightning bolt made enough heat

to melt the street beneath your feet.

Alice died

in the night.

I've been learning to drive my whole life.

My whole life, I've been learning."

"In the Backseat", The Arcade Fire.

---

I am no stranger to long drives. Gaspé, Quebec, the land from which I largely descend, and where my extended family is rooted, is at least a sixteen hour drive. (I'm told it is quintessentially "Canadian" to measure distances in hours. I mean, it will always be 5 km, but not always 5 minutes, right? I don't know. This is what we do. Anyway.) We'd trek it every summer. Some kids had cottages. I had Gaspé. (It's now regarded as one of Canada's greatest hidden gems - which I wager means it won't be hidden for much longer. I'm not surprised.)

I've had an affinity for the above song for as long as it has been since first I heard it. 11 years, at least, I guess. My whole life has been about being a passenger. I have long been afraid to drive. I have twice gone through the motions of learning. I wouldn't have passengers for the first couple years of driving on my own, and I still caution each potential passenger with "You know I'm not a good driver, okay?" We all have our skills. Confidence in most things is not mine.

There were entire stretches of time where I stumbled upon others calling me "the mute", my voice dusty and lost somewhere in the recesses of my throat. I am not that person anymore - and, though, often I wish I still were, because I'm sure I'd be easier to tolerate - there's something to be gained in learning to speak my truth. In learning to drive.

Geoff's father lives in Deep River, which is at least a six hour drive. Life is not equally as kind to anyone, and he is not in the greatest of health at the moment. This is a trek I promised to make since our first week of dating, Geoff and I, before I had even driven us anywhere. I meant it, always, in my heart of hearts. 

It's been a year and a half, but we did it - and, for this, I feel more capable.

Garage sales are where first I noticed Geoff's supreme skills of navigation. You'd have to be family, close friends, or coworkers of mine to know that this skill was somehow obliterated from my own genetic makeup. We are, in this way, an ideal pair. I've got the wheels and he's got the map.

Speaking of sales, we managed to hit up a few here. I think one of my coolest finds was this authentic gumball machine from the 50s. It needs a good cleaning before it's at all functional, but I think it will be a cool games room feature in our new house rental.

We also visited an antiques trading post, and an authentic First Nations' souvenir shop. I have family gifts pretty much covered until Christmas.

The landscape is also beautiful - almost reminiscent in part of my childhood Gaspé summers.

We'd like to make this a summer tradition. There are some 10-person cabins. Friends, you are welcome.

I am grateful for this landscape, for this little glimpse into lives that are now intertwined with mine, for this road trip, for my love.

I've been learning to drive my whole life. 
My whole life, I've been learning.

[Original goal list posted here.]

Progress: #36. study more about Marxism.

Oh, hello! My life has been in a constant state of crumbling and rebuilding. So it goes.

Some updates of note:

• Treecycle has been provided with some great opportunities of late, but my interest is waning. The continual gamble is not for the faint of heart or the accustomed-to-steady-income. I'm going to step back, slightly - hopefully momentarily. My focus is just multi-divided at present.
• I'm moving this summer. To North York. In a whole house rental. With Geoff. I'm stoked. This reduces my work commute. This reduces my commute to my love - and increases my time with the same. This is full of space, potential, possibility. Redecorating into a HOME - our home - will be my summer project. I'm not traveling this summer. We have a yard to call our own. Morning coffee and trees. Love.
• I'm reaaaaallly into this local Toronto trading site called Bunz.com. I feel that is a very practical application for Marxist philosophy (hence the topic of this post), as evidenced by my most recent Facebook note. It reads:

Hey all, I’m moving soon. As such, I’m having a garage sale a week from today. Everything I have up on Bunz is headed for the yard, if not traded in short order.

However, I really would prefer trades. I feel this rush from determining value, as derived from use value (of my own assessment). I like ridding myself of something not worthwhile to me, and acquiring something not worthwhile to someone else - and therein upending and exchanging use values without there ever being paper or metal as a representation of, as Marx calls, socially-necessary labour time. It is a reinvention that warms my steadily-developing Anarchist/Marxist heart. 

It’s okay if you skipped that paragraph. Really, what I want to know is: Do you have stuff to give me for my stuff? If you’re too wary of the stranger danger of Bunz - hey, you know me. I can allow you to dip your toes in the water before jumping straight in. I want you to feel the rush of defying all these systems. I want you to unclutter. I want to unclutter.

HERE’S WHAT I NEED: - retro / vintage decor (especially tin signs) - retro games / gaming products - wall primer and house paint (tan is preferable. something earthy.) - seed beads - stamps (both rubber and paper) - cool wall shelves - vintage wood or metal decor / storage - a bread maker with a gluten-free setting - a 3D printer (I can dream!) - sweetgrass braids - an actual sweetgrass plant (/plants) - white sage bundles - handmade vegan soaps - cruelty-free eyeshadow - cruelty-free hairspray / gel - indoor mini fireplace - tabletop arcade - hammock - pinball machine - silver coins - soy / almond / cashew milk - (if all else fails, coffee beans always) You got that? HERE’S WHAT I HAVE: - 18 packs of whipped butter - retro plastic mayo squeeze container (new) - MasterCraft suede tool belt (new, with tags) - Crayola Dry Erase Neon Crayons - People’s Social Forum Swag (Four “Stop Harper’s Crimes” Stickers and a 1” button that says “WE ARE ALL AFFECTED”
- OSSTF toque and 2 buttons that say “I’m Sticking with the Union”
- a small green coat with short sleeves (sort of trench coat looking), some percentage wool
- 4 coffee mugs with logos of various schools where I’ve worked

- 1 large blue coffee mug with a chip - small ceramic planter (with drain holes at bottom) and tray - CD: Velvet Underground and Nico (Warhol banana cover) - vintage Olympia typewriter carry case - VICE comics issue - brand new star-shaped watch - The Bell Jar OOP T-shirt (Ladies S - fits more like XS) - Authentic native-designed Snapback trucker hat - Authentic native-designed pink Hummingbird bangle bracelet - Unique Korean hoodie - MAD Magazine 1998: ft. Titanic, X-Files - Pink Cabellas Deer t-shirt, youth XL (fits like a Men’s S) - TLC crazysexycool cassette tape - Peru handbag with llama - battery-operated mini air hockey table - sheet of vintage Expos and Jays stickers - snowboard, boots, step-in bindings - vintage pottery wheel workshop - rooster drying mat - a lot of necklaces (stars, steampunk watch, heart, feathers, faux pearls, elephants) - feather fascinator on hairband - bamboo mat - star wall hanging - a rotating spice rack (but no containers) - theatre masks belt buckle - pinecone beeswax candles - paper crane sculptures in jars - lots of wall art
You want that? You’ve got a week to holler, before it hits the curb. Feel free to ask for photos / details, if interested.

I am learning daily about my strength, worth, tenacity. So it goes.

[Original goal list posted here.]

Completed: #13. make my own sushi

Now, I love me some veggie sushi. I order it every few months when I am empty of fridge and hungry of belly. However, I always end up asking myself two questions upon ordering:

1. Is this worth the cost?

2. Couldn't I just make this myself?

It is out of these questions that this goal originally transpired.

Now, I steadily prepared for this goal for weeks. WEEKS. I bought a bamboo mat. I bought a brand new, shiny, sharp, Japanese-style knife. I bought some sushi rice, reading and rereading the preparation directions on the reverse. I read sushi-making blogs and watched sushi-making vlogs. I tailored my Mama Earth veggie order to sushi-making. I planned an evening trip with my sister and baby nephew to our best local Asian supermarket.

I couldn't have been more ready. 

Bring it, said I, in an unusual burst of self-confidence, energy, and enthusiasm. I will make sushi for days. DAYS.

Well. Hours after this photo was taken, I posted to Facebook:

"That was a disaster. Here's a photo where I have to earn *some* presentation points. I really tried. Haha"

My dear friend Hema responded:

"It looks great. What was the disaster?"

My response - a mere photo, a very illustrative photo - says it all:

Of all the how-tos I consulted, this one was the most helpful:

I am grateful to this goal for providing me the answers I was so desperately seeking to the above two questions:

1. Yes

2. No

[Original goal list posted here.]

Progress: 8/30 - #18. read 30 texts that will aid in my teaching

Apologies for the ever-slow output of goals and posts these days. A late winter chaos, after its undue upheaval, left me in a place of great contemplation and transition. I've been feeling quiet. I wrap up all my thoughts and dreams and hold them safe and silent in the centre of my being, like a secret. It escapes only - even to most of those once closest to me - in the gentlest of vagaries, almost imperceptible unless paying close attention. Really, though, we pay the utmost close attention to our own selves almost exclusively. It's excusable. We're the centre of our universes. "You," I tell my 9s whenever I try to help them unlearn the false "good guy"/"bad guy" dichotomy, "are the protagonists of your own life story. Do you only do good things? Think about it more like this: You will not experience any events untainted by your own lens. For better or worse, you're with yourself wherever you go, and you see the story through your own eyes."

Anyway.

This line of thinking gets awfully lonely these days, so enough about self-centeredness by necessity, and more about the heart.

It is garage sale season. On my first and last outing with Geoff, I picked up five books, a handful of vintage wooden Christmas ornaments, and an old Underwood typewriter.

One of these books was Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist.

A student of mine this semester had me fill out an application in support of him completing his 4U English course in the summer, overseas. He has been reading ahead on all materials and steadily consulting me for opinions.

Of this same book, he said: "Oh, Miss, if you like The Little Prince, you will like The Alchemist." That's about the most appropriate and compelling review someone can give about a book, yeah?

I picked it up a few days later.

This past Saturday evening, to be exact.

I had a craft sale that was a total bust. It was freezing. It was raining. I had a sink of overflowing dishes to do, but I chose The Alchemist, a fire, and some ginger tea with almond milk instead. Nothing wasted. (Lamenting, as I am oft to do, my lack of productivity, it suddenly struck me and I said: "Years from now, would I remember that on this day I did the dishes, or that on this day I read The Alchemist?" Doing the dishes would be superimposed on so many other memories of doing the dishes, such not to be distinct or significant a memory at all. The Alchemist, though, was another world. I would remember The Alchemist.)

This book has assisted me during a time of terrible and beautiful transition. It is about choices, sacrifice, personal legends, listening to the heart, fear and courage, the massive intricacies of our paths and how each opens another series of connections. It is full of truths about love and travel and the too-convenient sound of settling before we've even allowed ourselves to finish our journeys. 

I've dog-earred half the book through discovering what I deemed to be the most insightful quote. However, each turning of a page uncovered another.

I'll leave you with only one. You'll just have to read the rest for yourself.

"I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you."




[Original goal list posted here.]

Completed: #24. make five different First Nations crafts (5/5 - Peyote Stitch Keychain)

I have been wanting to bead the bottom of my eagle feather - but I knew that this would require some variety of circular bead stitch. I only know freehand and loom stitching.

I looked up resources online. I reviewed diagrams, written instructions, and YouTube tutorials. When there are hard and fast rules, I simply learn best by verbal instruction, kinesthetic experimentation, and the ability to ask - and immediately have answered - any troubleshooting questions.

A workshop? Yes, please.

My little sister and I attended this peyote stitch workshop at Peterborough's Canoe Museum lead by Andrew Bullock. (To clarify: No hallucinogens. Just a really accomplished instructor, some retired ladies, beads, my little sister and I, surrounded by canoes and informational plaques in a place that smelled of rawhide and wood.)

A lucky bonus: My little sister is aces, and I don't get to see her enough. She was kind enough to drive. (I am directionally inept.) For many reasons, I could have never done this workshop without her - not the least of all being that I had several moments of imagining myself silently crying if she were not there to help me along with understanding the basics. She's probably the smartest and most humble little gal I know and she picked up this stitch incredibly quickly - which is not a surprise, because she's a really fast learner. Here is a photo I snapped of her before we started, alongside her final piece:

She's super pretty AND mad-talented, see.

My pieces are not so impressive, but complete. I started them both yesterday, and accomplished the first last night and the second this afternoon. These are both freeform designs. I have some patterns - and I would like to try them out on branches to make into keychains and/or necklace charms for Treecycle. When I feel satisfied enough with my progress, I want to make my own pattern and bead my eagle feather.

I am glad to now know the basics of the stitch, however.

 

Here is my first attempt, in progress and complete. I am aware that it looks vaguely phallic. This was not intentional, okay??

 

Here is my second attempt, in progress and complete.

For those who want to be in the know, these are constructed of a doweling rod wrapped in soft leather. The beads are size 10. With the assistance of an eye hook screwed into the top, they will be keychains. If you're capable of following written instructions and/or diagrams and/or YouTube tutorials, there is a plethora of information online for this stitch.

I have also been working on freehand-beading a drawstring medicine pouch necklace. It's taking quite awhile, but I intend it to be precious to me - so I figure it's worth the effort. Although with this final fifth of five First Nations crafts, I've accomplished my goal, I'll post to show you the medicine pouch upon completion regardless.

Dear goal #24, you brought me hand-crafted medicine wheels and a love of beading. For that, I thank you dearly. If I never scratch another goal off this list, I have already been enriched.

[Original goal list posted here.]