halloween haiku + ramble

masquerades and rain
pumpkin beer, seeds, and lanterns
hurrah hurrah yay

I adore Halloween and to make sure I get the absolute most out of costumes this year I’ll be attending VCon (pirate-themed, yes please) and Steamcon (hopefully). Pumpkin beer is hitting the shelves (Howe Sound Brewery, mais oui), the rain is thundering outside (thank you Vancouver), and it’s just about time to break out the box of onesie pajamas.

I love summer, but man, autumn is my jam.

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I’m popular, guys!

Hello Ladles and Gentleforks!

Thanks to you all, but especially one Lindsey over at LindseyKnows, I have one hundred and fifty followers on WordPress! Thank you, thank you, I’m really tickled pink. Only 9 months in the blogosphere, just like having a baby. Well. I mean, the average gestation of a regular human baby is nine months, so…

You get it. I love you. Thanks.

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I’m seriously into stamping and also bow ties

No guys, seriously. STAMPING. I ran into Deserres the other day and sort of barked “stamp…making things! Where?”

The counter guys didn’t seem phased, just pointed me in the right direction and I wandered into a whole new world. I bought Speedycut lino blocks, and fabric paint, and a lino cutter set, and then immediately set to work on projects.

This translates into me ripping off the packaging of all my new things and sort of staring at them, asking them (telepathically) “how do you work and how”. It’s a process. Eventually I just picked up the pointy things and made a huge mess. The second try was better. Loads better. I’ve now made three stamps and they’re all beautiful (this is subjective, because I’m biased).

Taking it to the next level: stamping self-drafted pattern pieces with self-carved stamps….how did it come to this. How.

So of course, I can’t just stamp normal things. I have to stamp, like, really complicated things. It was my dad’s birthday a few weeks ago, and he’d been complaining that I keep making bow ties for other people, but not for him. My dad, he does not wear bow ties. Ever. If he must wear a tie, he wears his bright red tie with spinnakers all over it (colourful sails for sailboats). He’s a sailing man, so I figured this would be an appropriate rival for the spinnaker tie.

Light, navy cotton with swiss dots is pretty sweet for bow ties in general, but turns out stamping little white sailboats all over the fabric after cutting out the pieces was the best idea. The fabric paint cured after five minutes under the iron, and then I was away to the races! Sewed it all up, and here’s the finished product:

Ta-da! Birthday present for father. He was pleased.

Ta-da! Self-tied bow tie for father. He was pleased. (Disclaimer: this is so not my dad in the photo. This is me.)

I’m really excited. I plan on stamping everything. Y’all better watch out. Nothing is sacred.

No Excuses

You gotta be kidding me, I haven’t posted in a little under a month. Lots of things have happened! Exciting things, terrifying things, sad things, happy things, and life-altering things. I’ll do a bullet list for simplicity’s sake:

  • ArtsWells: Five days of running around relatively unshowered, mingling with musicians, drinking in the gorgeous scenery and shows, and managing a crazy merch shop for volunteer hours. Free tickets, guys. I only got injured once (rebar dropped on foot: bruised, bloody, but not broken), and we ate delicious vegetarian feasts every day. So much food. So many good people. So little clothing. I want to go back.
  • The End of School: My exam that I wrote the night I got back from ArtsWells was….uneventful (and by “uneventful” I mean “off-the-cuff and chock-full of the finest bullshit academia has ever seen). My other two classes were AWESOME. I aced my big papers, killed the finals, and generally was awesome. I made a thank-you card for that professor: should have taken photo, ’cause it was pretty sweet.
  • ArtsWells Recovery: It was difficult. It was. All I wanted was coffee and a hug. Every five minutes. Also a strange aversion to showering regularly, and a affinity for office dance parties to the $97 of merch CD’s I bought. Well, there were poetry books and a poster, too, but…
  • Piercings/Armageddon: I went and got my daith and tragus pierced on my left ear. As I’m still living at home (at twenty years old, not too shameful), I had hoped my parents would understand that I had pierced my ear (again) for some very personal reasons, but unfortunately, that was not the case. It was a ‘take them out, or get out of their house’ situation. So it’s back to the drawing board. I’ll be removing them tomorrow, a week after getting them done, in the interest of keeping a roof over my head. Pragmatism, guys.
  • Timeline for the Future: This leads into my next trick, moving out. It’s a thing that’s needed to happen for a while, but tensions are varying levels of high in my parents’ house, and it’s time to start seriously thinking of starting out in  the world by my lonesome. My timeline thus far is: travel in spring (Thailand and New Zealand), return to set-up job, work all summer, and move out just before fall semester. To fund the travelling, I’m hoping to get a job at the bookstore in my university for next semester, as they pay nice sums of money and work around your school schedule. I’m also going to be setting up an Etsy store and doing a few Christmas craft fairs to raise funds (and keep me creating). Wish me luck!
  • Bow ties: I made my fourth bow tie last week. I’ll post it as a project, but it’s real nice. I’ll be making another, for my dad’s birthday, tonight.
  • So how’s everyone out there? Have you been writing, creating, adventuring? I’ll be posting more often, in an effort to banish mood swings etcetera, because that shit’s no fun. Anyways. Keep being lovely. I love you all.

Love, Emily

On a Lighter Note: Caravan Palace and Spry Bry

On Friday, July 26th, I had the most incredible evening I’ve had in ages. It was drenched in sweat and euphoria and dancing, and it was wonderful. Here’s a couple samplers of what I was treated to:

Spry Bry. This guy. He plays violin amidst electro-swing backing tracks that he’s simultaneously mixing. So good.

 

And then , le piece de resistance, Caravan Palace. They were perfect. They did this routine, live, in front of my eyes, with the perfect mic pass-off and everything. I was unable to breathe at points, not because I wore a corset, but because they were so perfect. Just, perfect.

Please become hardcore fans so that we can gush together. Thank you.

Also, I found this artist, Laurent Chehere, who did a series of photographs called “Les maisons volantes”. Now, je ne parlais pas francais, but they’re beautiful flying houses. Just beautiful. Click on the flying circus tent to ogle more of his stuff (and peruse that whole website as well, there’s some crazy cool stuff there).

Laurant Chehere

Laurent Chehere

a blogless abandon

Hi.

How’s it going, WordPress? I hear you’ve been getting along just fine without me, but I thought I’d pop back in and say “Salutations”.

Things have been, shall we say, a little raucous around these parts. A little topsy-turvy. Helter-skelter, even. After exams I flew out to visit my grandfather in the wild open prairies, utterly exposed to the wrath of Dust with nary a tree in sight. It was tough, seeing the man you crawled into bed with when you were five years old to watch Saturday morning cartoons (a real treat — we’ve never had cable in our house) brought to his knees like that. I can’t put a face to the grief he must be wading through, chest-deep, every day. The woman he loved for over sixty years, gone. I took some of her jewellery back with me, at his behest. I felt like a thief.

Then, the same day I flew back to Vancouver, glorious city surrounded by mountains, I repacked my bags and leapt into my pre-vacuumed and rather shiny (yet still scrappy and beat-up) 1992 Saturn Coupe, drove to my Christopher’s house, and nabbed him and all his worldly belongings. Well, not really. But I did pack him and his stuff into my dinky car and drive him up to Squamish, where we spent the first night together in ages. It’s hard to describe the feeling of sleeping next to someone you love after a long time, of being able to reach out in the night and touch them, pull them close. Silk is the closest I can get, silk charmeuse floating on a summer breeze. We woke up together, and set off on a road trip that included the sweetest hostel I’ve ever laid eyes on (Hostel Shilo-works), Skookumchuk hot springs, and a lot of corn pops.

The week I came back, I worked full-time and started the summer semester at SFU. I’m taking two medieval lit courses (awesome) and one 18th C. course (lord spare me). That same week, my cat died. It hasn’t been nearly as hard as it was when my dog died eight months ago, but it wasn’t easy. I grew up with that cat, she slept with me and woke me up by  stepping on my face. I’ll miss her. I do miss her.

Things haven’t been uneventful. I’m regaining my footing, though. And I will, life willing, be blogging more. I like blogging. I like you guys. Now if I can find a way to watch Game of Thrones while blogging, I’ll be on top of everything (two seasons in three days, I am a fiend). In the meantime, here: