Escape to Suburbia

Saturday morning sketches

2009-07-03T20:44:00.001-07:00

I have vowed this time around to try more things at the market on Saturdays.

First off I want to promise myself this is the year I buy business cards. How slack is that? Shouldn't every artist at least have a few boxes of cards ready to go? But when you paint in front of the place where you sell your stuff it's really explanatory. However- I will make the effort to get something out there in the meantime even if its something printed from my computer.

I think I have to re paint the Post Office. The idea is do two images strong in different style- a day and night, spy vs spy, black and white etc… I first want to clean up the sketches before I look at canvas. The problem is my eyes are swelling and I cant even start to explain what that feels like. I wanted to start Hilton falls but I am still waiting on the photos.

I forgot to buy my Patrick Bateman jelly-ice eye goggles today at the Superstore. Instead I used a package of corn wrapped several times in paper towel to rest on my face so I could finish this blog entry.

Milton Street Festival 2009

2009-06-07T15:05:00.001-07:00

Juicy

2009-05-14T07:56:00.001-07:00

Ever since Stoo got in that car accident on the 401 I have been thinking more (or less) of my mortality (that and the ever looming arrival date of my 29th birthday). I sat down and started to think what I could ask my parents for my birthday, simply because I can't ask friends to give me gifts as it's never a requirement on their part. One of the items on that list was a juicer.

I used to own a juicer back in the old apartment on Queen. It was a heavy, bulky mess that would get in the way often and I would hardly use it. The best time I used that juicer was during my three month detox diet where I couldn't eat red meat, refined sugars, coffee (ahhhh!), wheat products and so on. It was a surprisingly helpful diet where I noticed that I had more energy and I lost 30 pounds in three weeks (possibly because my mother told me I was eating more that Kate Moss, but that was when my max weight was 160- 130 is my normal healthy weight). The whole thing would have been a huge success if I quit smoking as well- but back then I was a different person.

So having kicked the smoking habit (well- technically I steal the occasional smoke when drunk or tepidly angry or nervous… but that's like 3 smokes a week and better than what I was doing before) I decided I would try to get myself back in order to where I was five years ago but without going crazy-BS over that diet I was on before as losing that much weight would cause another bout of gossip at my day job (and I'm not well understood or liked there as many would assume).

With that said, I bought a new juicer that is a lot more awesome than the old one. Namely because its compact in size and it only cost me $5 at the reuse center.

I could have had my parents buy me the $80 PC juicer… but the Scottish in me said "$5???? Ack! What a deal!"

So now I juice apples and oranges together while I sneak in an odd veggie here and there as Stoo refuses to eat them- don't ask me why but this is one way I can fool him into getting a regular diet. I don't know why chugging down a gross drink of frothy orange-ness is better than biting into an onion… wait… the visual just did me in… alright… scrap that.

So because I bought this $5 juicer (AND IT WORKS) I have no bloody idea what to ask my parents to get me for my birthday. As I wrote before, and you read right, it is a requirement for my parents to get me a gift for my birthday and even when I try to refuse this they go ahead and get me something I would have liked when I was 15 with a speech along the lines of "WELL ANNALEA- IF YOU DON'T SAY WHAT YOU WANT I CHOOSE FOR YOU" and so on. That's my mother for you and somehow I think I have inherited a lot of the habits and mannerisms I fought to suppress growing up.

Here is a list of the possible things I would like for my 29^th before I get too old to enjoy anything (because I'm half Scot and half Ukie and that's the way it goes)

Giant Mr. Saturn Plushy (because I am a nerd)
A ugly looking beefy lappy to huck at boys
Nintendo DSi (I don't care if I have a DS already!! To the max!!!)
Wood canvas blocks with tubes of nice white and black GOLDEN acrylics
Shoes that actually fit and will not make me look like a clown or a queen.

The best gift my friends can get me is to come to my party and not start any fights. I doubt my parents will read this as computers scare them- but I know my brother reads this crap so he can print off the list and hand it to them (though its next to impossible to get me the shoes or the plushy).

Aventures in Photography

2009-05-04T16:09:00.001-07:00

/me takes a non-descript photo of a crowd at a heavily attended "art" event for the paper.

Guy: "HEY- HEY YOU!"

/me silently points to myself with a puzzled look

Guy: "YEAH- YOU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

/me points to her press pass and then wiggles her camera

Guy: "NO NO NO"

/me nods her head YES YES YES bugging her eyes out

Guy: "HEY- GET OVER HERE

/me walks down from the staircase and right up to the guy

/guy grabs my collar when in arms distance and shakes me when he starts yelling at me

Guy: "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?"

AnnK: "Get your hands off me"

/guy lets go of me but refuses to stop yelling

Guy: "I said WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?"

AnnK: "I'm taking pictures of this event - note my pass."

Guy: "OH YEAH? WHO SAID?"

AnnK: "The organizer of this event."

Guy: "NO HE DIDN'T"

/me makes a face as if to say "Whoa- a full out pissing match is not my cup of tea"

Guy: "LOOK- DON'T MAKE A FACE AT ME"

AnnK: "Well don't tell me lies to my face- I had this all arranged a week ago and if you don't like it-"

Guy: "LOOK- YOU DON'T TAKE PICTURES AT EVENTS LIKE THESE.."

AnnK: "Says who?"

Guy: "It's LAW"

AnnK: "Look- I didn't take your picture- you were standing right behind me whe-"

Guy: "IF YOU DIDN'T TAKE MY PICTURE HOW THE HELL DID YOU KNOW WHERE I WAS STANDING?"

AnnK: "Because you yelled at me"

Guy: "YEAH. CAUSE YOU TOOK MY PICTURE. YOU CANT TAKE PICTURES HERE."

AnnK: "I can and I will."

Guy: "LOOK HERE, MISS- YOU DON'T TAKE PICTURES OF ME OR MY WORK, GOT IT?"

AnnK: "I DIDN'T TAKE YOUR PICTURE"

Guy: "WHATS STOPPING YOU FROM TAKING PHOTOS OF MY WORK AND SELLING IT TO OTHER PEOPLE, HUH? YOU TRYING TO SCREW ME OVER?"

/me looks at the vendors crappy generic jewelry

/me gets within breathing distance of the guys face

/me utters the boldest of the bold, the darker than darkness pitch, turning and twisting his entire white world into shards of nothing

/guy reels back gasping in horror

The Desk- April 22 2009 Part 2

2009-04-22T20:48:00.001-07:00

The Desk- April 22 2009 Part 1

2009-04-22T20:48:00.000-07:00

Killing Time

2009-03-25T09:16:00.001-07:00

The daily work routine has left me very stressed out to the point I caught a cold. Being sick is serious downtime for me as I don't feel at all creative when I have to keep blowing my nose every 5 minutes. Instead, downtime for me has always been an escape into the internet where I waste most of my time networking (friends and business) and where I read up on the current state of events. In translation I have 5 open tabs all on CBC, youtube, facebook, hotmail and the current message board of the day trolling around in the art community. Which reminds me, I need to take my computer into the shop…

There is word of a new Art Supply store opening up just around the corner from where I live- I hope to be one of their best customers. The best thing about this is that it's right on the Main Street so if I run out of something while at the market I can always reach over and buy it :p

I am working on three new pieces- one is a night scene of Thomas Street on wood canvas, the other is an aerial shot of a farm that used to be just off of Tremaine and the other is a small scene of Dundas. They are sitting and waiting along the famer and the creepy church piece (contemplating hating the creepy church) for my health to return so I can attack them.

Today Grant is coming over to take pictures of Squash though her hair is still short. I wonder how long it will be for her awesomeness to return. I'll post up the best ones we get.

If anything I am finding myself pulled into the world of photography lately though for me photography is a mixed art form since my regular day trade is professional photographer. I don't know if I will seriously do much with photography, though I should as it comes as natural as painting for me.

Gail called me up last week and she's interested in hitting the streets again to make another video and to get some shots done. The best friends are the ones who always are up for something fun. Hopefully we will make another great video that I can share with everyone.

Blonde & Bold & Going to Houston

2009-03-16T16:37:00.001-07:00

My eyes glaze over small sheets of paper we use to record numbers on at work. Each paper has its own unique sequence, a lottery number, random chaos forming number stands made in part from clients choosing photo's from a photo session. Often the numbers "2" and "3" are scribbled in; sometimes numbers are sketched out, and always have groups of three to six. If I add the total sum of all numbers in one group I can get the "Shot-Average" – something ridiculous I made up just so I could give everything a little more meaningful nuance. Afterwards I look back at these small sheets of paper and think to myself "Well, isn't that an interesting score!" crimpling it into a ball and throw it in the recycle bin.

I rather use the small sheets of paper that we use for number recording for more "stimulating" avenues, such as working out the new ideas for paintings, but I fear for setting an example. I resist. I let go a bit in meetings but I make sure that paper isn't important first and usually after I see that someone else is doodling. On bitter days I start the meeting in a sketch though that usually works out for the best… you know I have that paperwork done first as I wouldn't abandon it in the files.

I don't really have enough time to sit down and think "what is it that I am doing with myself?" It's funny, but I enjoy it that way, hence the reason for the mindless number crunching, meeting sketching, goofy-face making and uncomfortable laughter.

I am not really working on any great paintings as of late- instead I am working on getting my ideas to pen/paper so I have work for this year's Farmers Market. Though I would like to be a bit more stimulated art-wise… maybe after I go to the gallery this weds with Grant and his wife I will have the stimulation I need to get back to work.

Shy and neglected

2009-03-04T21:17:00.001-08:00

Stuart and I have been talking about getting another cat, mainly because Scoot is getting on 5 years now and since moving into this new apartment she is restless. There are no longer any windows for her to peek her head out of to watch the birds and no possible way for her to make an escape. For the most part, Scoot was lounging throughout the day in the easy chair waiting for us to get home so she could bite our feet.

We decided to look for a long hair Persian close to the same colour of Scoot so they would have a little in common. After an hour long search online, we found several suitable candidates for Scoot's newest partner in crime.

We picked up Babee, a 3 year old Persian from a couple in Toronto who couldn't keep her anymore due to allergies. They gave us everything to get us started, cat box, brushes, food, a few toys and all the medical history. She has already been fixed and declawed- something that was a must for us since Scoot is declawed as well.

The first few days with Babee in the house are sketchy. Scoot is fully aware that she is here and gets moody when you spend too much time with her. We have Babee set up in my office for the first few weeks to get her adjusted to Scoot and her new home, so she spends a lot of time under the antique chair.

I have no idea when the last time Babee has been brushed. She looks like a rasta cat. Everyone who knows me knows how much I loathe dreadlocks so I am trying to figure out a way to get her back to a cleaner state of living. Her belly feels like rope and I am scared that I won't be able to brush out all the mats so we might have to take her to vet to sedate her and have them shave her so we don't accidentally nick her with the scissors.

Having cats meet face to face will be a task I am not looking forward to, but Scoot will learn to get along. If not, Babee might just turn and run every time Scoot comes knocking.

Also today I had a gruelling dentist appointment that left me frightfully upset for the rest of the day. They had to freeze my entire jaw and put in a new filling. When my mouth is frozen nothing really hurts, everything just tickles. Laughing when you have dentist equipment in your mouth is not recommended. I also have a strong tendency to drool a lot- with freezing or not. I felt so terrible I couldn't do anything- I hung up on a lot of people today because I could hear them snickering on the other line when I would respond. Drugs and Ann don't mix.

We are thinking of changing Babee's name. To what I am not too sure, maybe Babee is alright. Any ideas for a new name for the new fuzzie? Send it my way?

Deaths

2008-12-16T16:53:00.001-08:00

I came home late yesterday to discover my pet budgie has passed away. I had pulled the cover back and saw its body at the bottom of the cage and I screamed. I don't really understand why- it was just a little bird- but afterwards I was horribly upset at the whole thing.

The reason for his death could have been one of many things- Before I caught pneumonia I had changed the gravel to a different brand- I bit cheaper. Also, winter has settled in and the drafts in my office were leaking in. The last culprit was my cat Scoot who a week ago I had found almost sitting on the cage and the bird freaking out. The biggest reason for why I figure the bird died was because it's Christmas time and my 40hr a week job has turned into my 50-60hr a week job. I simply wasn't home to pick up on the little hints here and there that he was unhappy.

I haven't taken the cage down yet. I spent my whole day moping around the apartment and cheaply tried to impress myself with buying over $150 worth of books on store credit at recycled reading. I picked up every single Varley science fiction paperback and The Giving Tree. I have yet to look at them. Instead I wasted my time playing Harvest Moon which is perfect for absorbing my focus to nothing in particular.

Scoot- my cat- won't even come into the office where the bird would sing. We put the body in a box and I am waiting for a warmer day to dig a small hole to put him in. I figure the cat must have attacked the bird in my absence and caught some bacteria from her. Most stories of budgies meeting cats end up this way.

I tried my best to avoid phone calls and the general public though each time my phone rang I answered with a grouchy voice and someone even hung up on me. I quickly called them back and said I was sorry, but I still feel bad.

I know it was just a dumb bird. Though part of me feel horrible for what happened.

Enter winter

2008-12-12T22:43:00.001-08:00

I'm silly when it comes to winte. I enjoy it where as many loathe the season with great animated passion- usually expressed with digging the car out of the drive way or the bummer of the wait in line to get Tim Hortons coffee at 8 in the morning (hand gestures optional). Maybe its due to the fact I don't own a viehical or drive for that matter that I enjoy winter since I get to spend a great deal in it as I shuffle from spot to spot. I enjoy a good toboggan ride or a few circles around the pond on skates… throwing snowballs at everyone and jumping in snowbanks. I still have a child's heart so it's easy for me to still see magic when snow falls.

I have been so busy in the last few weeks with work and projects a plenty which is the other reason I enjoy winter. The cold forces you inside where to break the boredom of cabin fever I make my best laid plans for the new year in the small rooms in my apartment. If I can't be working on anything directly I enjoy planning out a bigger, better plan for when the weather is better. I have been throwing around ideas for stories as well as new paintings, especially as there are a few special people on my list this year who I plan to make something nice for ;)

Kelso Side sold today exactly the moment I got home from work and sat down on my computer- I was checking the cbc website and behold my latest video "A Day in November" was featured on their website in the Citizens Bytes blog to my joy. That whole painting was a huge risk that ended up in the right pace. I enjoyed it a lot- I know the person who bought it made a great choice.

Reflections in November

2008-12-11T06:38:00.000-08:00

Today i forgot but could you blame me

2008-11-11T21:24:00.001-08:00

It didn't occur to me until 10pm at night it was the anniversary. I had remembered the night before, made a note to do something nice and then the idea was pushed out of my head as soon as my day started.

I fell out of bed at 7:30 today. I raced out, got cigarettes, was back in time for my ride. I went in on my day off even though I had promised to take the day off because of the anniversary. I was only going to go in and help out at work for a few hours and then beat it- get back to my life, see my friends who are in good health and in poor whom I have neglected lately due to my art shows, projects and work.

I had a woman insult me when I was trying to serve her- cheap shot to the dignitary bone, straight thru to the heart, it pierced and shattered my whole world into millions of tiny shards. She was angry and got rude because my phone kept ringing, the people kept coming and she didn't like what was left in my book. More of "Sorry, I want to help you, but you must see that I am very busy… I am the only one here and I am trying to stay afloat…" Mothers who roll their eyes at me when I say my work is copy-written, laugh at me when I say my feelings are hurt, tell me I am at fault for their own selfish vanity. I take it all with a smile, save tears for behind stalls and disappoint my heart when people refuse to accept me, refuse to help me, the people I work with who don't seem to get it since I cant get them at all.

I still smile thru it all.

I have to. I am contracted. My smile's my only tattoo I wish to burn off.

All of it depresses me for odd reasons when I get home since I can't help but have a feel for whatever it is I had before- that dignity I seem to have that was taken when I started, when I became a number, when I became nothing more.

I repeat myself- I do it all over for another- I repeat myself and do it for another I repeat and repeat focus flash record. There are no photos of me thru November to December and my skin is changing colours.

Though they say I asked for it when I signed up because that's what its all about- in someway I know this and live for it. The reaction is what I am going for- the delight and pleasure from someone's else praise though no one praises me… instead I get pulled off and dragged thru and then I go home in empty rooms and fill the void with my lessons of acceptance since I desire to be a hero who accepts and doesn't question her fate.

I long for an early new year- I long for a day without my leg cramping on me, I long for a day that is empty so I can put myself in it so much I find my thoughts creeping to nightmare horror stories though I know I wont but the idea is pleasing. Without me the world would crumble and my heart would sink bellow my belt so I accept and go towards my January my sanctuary and love.

Accept my love as I accept your hate, your disgust and your lies.

The 2008 Body

2008-11-08T19:38:00.001-08:00

Thanks to all who came out. It was very fun, exciting and a flawless evening. I was so happy that so many of my friends and family had made it to the show as well as new friend I met that night. There were some faces I didn't see, but you all sent your wishes and cheered me on!

After looking back at this body of work I see an entire year of labor dancing on the walls in their own magicant world. I am proud too of the fact I managed to organized a fairly exciting party where very little went wrong and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. For some people in that room it was their first time going to an art opening so I was happy that I made the night special with the help of a few friends.

Ryan was a huge hit at the party- but the DJ has to do that in my opinion. Now that I have done a show with a DJ I would like to try that again in the future- I liked what Ryan was doing with the projections on the outside of the gallery. Everyone driving by got a glimpse of me painting at a furious speed overlaid with images of Mother 2+3 all to the sound of his music. I was also happy that only after a few complaints around 10:30 he made the call to turn down the music and eventually end his set so that we wouldn't be too much of a pest to those sleeping on a Thursday.

However, it is Main Street and 11pm is cut off time- no reason to be rude to my neighbors ;p

I feel tired… so its best that my real reflection for the whole thing should be best left until after the 20^th when its all done for the Gallery.

http://www.dorland-haightgallery.com/ann_kornuta.htm

My other worry is the TV interview I did that night. I hope I don't look too crazy in that :p

For now its rest and back to the day job as the holidays grow closer and I deal with every small battle and everything else that life throws at me.

Tattoos- love em or hate em

2008-10-29T08:16:00.001-07:00

I am not a huge fan of tattoos. I am a fan of other people's tattoos- I know Andrew has a bunch of cool ones and my buddy Ryan has loads of awesome work done all over him… but that's their thing. Tattoos are not my thing. Maybe it's the whole fear of needles thing I have.

I wanted one once. I was going to get something girly once in High school but I vouched out of it last minute. My reason for bailing was because I was sure I would have regretted it later on in my life. I have also seen enough tattoos weathered by child-birth and weight gain and they lack that coolness factor when you turn into a middle-aged turd (unless you keep it real to the day you die).

If you want to get one, sure- get one. Get 10. Get 20 though you should check and get a twinrix shot- hey one more needle isn't going to mean squat. Just follow my moms advice which is "You can do whatever it is you want as long as you play safe." I have made a "SAFTEY LIST" that you can use when you are deciding on getting inked.

Choose a tattoo that speaks to who you are and where you are going in life. Just because all your friends have flaming skulls on their arms doesn't mean you have to make the same mistake.
The following subjects should be avoided if you ever plan to get laid ever again in your life: Fast food, cartoons with large wangs, something tattooed over your belly button so it looks like an asshole of something, that face tarantula, sit-com celebrities, Simpson and Futurama characters and finally your ex's name or nickname anywhere around your junk. Come on.
When choosing a tattoo artist, look at their tattoos. If you see anything from the above list on them, file them under "someone who desperately needs a session" (and I mean a doctor's session here) and find another artist.
Girls should try and avoid getting tattoos around their boobs and gut. After your boyfriend dumps you and you hit that tub of ice cream like a deranged hippo your tat of roses is going to look more like a stretched pizza. Age happens. Bet on fatness to sit in after your 28. Also I wonder what goes thru mom's head when she's breastfeeding Jr from a nipple that has a deformed safety pin oozing all over it from mamma's punk days.
Guys should avoid getting eyes tattooed on the back of their skulls. Why you want a tattoo so bad that you'll never get to see it is beyond me.

Get a tattoo that means something- like a lost loved one's name, a family crest or your kids names. That is cool. Showing the world how dedicated you are to your love is awesome and gets more points than the words "I'm AWESOME" across your back.

If you're not going to go full out sleeves or body, choose a spot you wouldn't mind showing to other people yet tasteful enough so you can hide it from your mom- unless you get a classy MOM tat on your wrist.

Studio Tour 2008

2008-10-05T19:18:00.001-07:00

I had a blast sitting in with Kathy Tyers at her studio all weekend. We had all sorts of visitors stopping by the Saturday, but the busy day was Sunday when the sun came out and you could really see how wonderful it is to be in her backyard. I understand why she has the studio where it is- the sun can come in and really light the place up. Plus its so calm where she is- it makes me miss my old block.
I enjoyed the children that came in hand with mom and dad. Often they were too shy or taken back at everything that was going on around them to really come up to me like everyone does at the Farmer’s Market. One boy saw my table set up in Kathy’s house and the painting I had renamed “Earthbound” with the plush Mr. Saturn doll peeking out nearby on a shelf. He quietly came up to me and asked me if I liked Nintendo and started saying “It’s one of my favourite games, though I have never really played it”.
I asked him, “how can you love it if you have never played it?” He just said, “It just is” and we had a sort of touching nerdy moment that I thought was one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me.
Many of the children that came by were really cute. There was a little red haired girl with pretty glasses that came in with her mom. She made me wish that when I was a kid my mom should have dressed me like her though when I was thinking more about that idea I remembered how much of a fuss I made when she would try to dress me up like that so I abandoned that thought and felt it was better for her.
Peter and his wife Kerrie showed up too and I was so happy that they came I literally flew outside to give them a big hug when they arrived. Rob and his wife came too after hiking and they were looking at a lot of my work for their new practice in Toronto. I am really excited about doing something there and possibly in the office in Milton. One of my old neighbours stopped by too and wants her house painted, so it looks as if I am going to be busy once more.
Many of my friends came by- some with coffee even! And the way I like it too!
Now it’s all work now! Finish now! Get to it! as I buckle down for my big show in November!

Tuesday September 16th 2008

2008-09-21T07:05:00.001-07:00

I was terrified. Once before I had crossed paths with the man they call Harper- a barbeque tour when Garth Turner shaking the hand of the want-a-be Prime Minister “in those days”. That was over 2 ½ years ago. It’s amusing how things change and still manage to stay the same.
Like an election. My goal was to succeed in getting a halfway decent shot of the Prime Minister Stephen Harper and possibly with running candidate Lisa Raitt. Get them with a crowd behind them cheering like in America, even better. Getting a close intimate shot of the Prime Minister shaking hands and talking to people? Unlikely. The lighting? Terrifying.
Unlike a few weeks ago when Dion visited the same location in Oakville where he stood on stage, spotlight by a projector against an enormous flag, the roomed dimmed slightly and I was able to get plenty of clear shots at my whim. The heat from the lamp was just what I needed and I was satisfied with the amount of effort I went through to bring a pleasing image.
Harper was different. All media registered, received tags and stood idly by as Harper supporters shook hands and gossiped. After some time, we all grouped together to wait our time to go in though I did try to wander around the door to get an idea of what I was up against.
The hall was horribly lit. This disappointed me. It’s unlike for me to give up at this point however; there was also nowhere else for me to go as we were then filed in by party personal. There was a platform to perch on, yellow tape to hide behind. This was our pit and the stage somewhere off into the distance.
I did pack a good lens and I was able to bring the stage closer, so I was confident with what I brought. What got to me were those Nikon D3’s with telephotos the size of a Frisbee floating around like sharks. How horrible I only took this lens, I thought but I perched on the platform and took aim.
My luck seemed to change as my finger hit the trigger.

Art with AnnK May 26 2008

2008-05-26T21:21:00.001-07:00

First Day of the Market

2008-05-18T07:16:00.001-07:00

Rant on Books and Magazines

2008-05-16T16:09:00.000-07:00

A Perfect Circle

2008-04-07T06:24:00.001-07:00

When I woke up on Sunday I didn't plan on sitting on the bus traveling East to go West yet again for the umpteenith time of my life. G had invited me to come out and take photos of his new baby exploring High Park before he packs the family up for an out of the country adventure of sorts. So there I was, sitting on the bus making the regular trek to the old neighborhood as images of the changed landscape rush past my window.
The strange thing was my observation that it was now officially 10 years I have been making such a trip East to West. When I first made this trip I was only 18 years old and for the most part the bus trip zoomed past the back roads thru brush, barns and fields… how things have changed in only 10 years and now the brush is disappearing and houses replace birds and grass- old barns gone replaced with concrete and street signs. I wonder if children who now live in these houses know what the land used to look like before they were here, how enchanting it all used to be and how typical it has become… hopes for wonder in a land of exploding growth…
High Park still looks the same though everything was brown and dirty since we're still in that painful "After Melt" phase.
I am still plugging away at a few paintings and choosing to revisit a few I know I said were finished yet after having them hung on the wall in the office for a few days I need to go back to them and add more… it's the better way for me to work at the moment as displaying the piece for myself for a time I can take better care with everything I am working on so the end product is brilliant. I also have two new pieces to start out- one commission and one new image for a show coming up.
Speaking about art shows- I know I was aiming for one of those in the spring though after contemplation coupled with the news from my doctor it possibly would be for the best to have a show in the Fall rather than the spring as I will need recovery time from my surgery. I guess that is just more of an excuse to get more finished and ready in time for a super amazing awesome show and in the Fall I know more friends and fans will be able to make it out rather than holding it in the spring.

Happy Box

2008-03-17T07:03:00.001-07:00

Things could be stranger- I am back at work now after my 3 month absence and I am stunned at how things change they still stay the same. I thought it was going to be rough getting back though as long as I get 2 days off in a row I'll do fine. By the end of the first week I was deader than a bag of lemmings when I got to my two days off that I didn't go anywhere or do anything… though I did pick up the brushes for a few hours and worked on something.

It's sort of my tribute to coffee yet a reflection of who I still am after all this time. I want to do a series of "Hot Coffee" images, throw in some digital art pieces as well to round out the flavor. I tried to keep everything about this one as close to a reflection as possible and the best way to tell that is from the scar over my eye in the picture. I really do sport that scar with pride though everyone tells me they never notice it so I have to lean in and show them. It happened on my third birthday when the kids on my block decided to erase me- they jumped on me and started hitting me with rocks and stones- one went down a few times on the ol' eye a few times. The cute thing is the right eye is damaged and healed but still wonky. The world has always looked flat from my side.

The other cute detail I added was the Mother 3 mug. Still waiting on a decent translation so I can pick it up again… I just refuse to finish it without knowing what all the frogs are saying.

Cut-Up Experiment

2008-02-26T00:26:00.000-08:00

Have a Blast! http://www.fetish23.org/words/cutup.html
The best is to take old saved emails from your outlook as your "cutup".

2005
Be just a disguise and I am looking thru the eye-holes to see who it is and if I need to hurt them severely. an awkward moment. Maybe I was dreaming again- someone slips in wearing the skin of him, but when the door is closed and my clothes are off it turns out to window. A dull glint, pulp blue, bedroom light- why is bedroom light always blue? For a moment, I did not know whose hands were at my side- but it came at different, I was quickly alarmed because it was dark in my room and the only light shading in was the gleam of the streetlight out by the sidewalk coming thru the waking up in a puff of steam and meticulously busying in wild “I need to get this done” segments. He put his hands on me last night and it felt strange and my nights will be filled with mindless keyboard clacking and bland popcorn moments. The body is going in- last weeks few attacks left me tired, lethargic, napping on the couch and I cant believe he’s gone and so far off in the distance… and me now with all this work and responsibility my hair is just going to grow longer and longer...

Pain, graft & 4 :20’s smackdown with Pie

2008-01-16T21:06:00.001-08:00

It's been a month and the pain is still rooting away on my right-side. Despite the frequent trips to my doctor I am not closer to where I was in December to why the pain is there and why it keeps coming back. All I can do is sit and wait and I find all of this to be boring, frustrating and depressing. The only positive is the effect everything is having on my current body of work.

I had just finished a few commission pieces and I wasn't feeling so great on one particular painting that sold- everything about this one painting seemed doomed from the get go and discussions around this one only ended up with me lying in its defense. I hate lying so I will say that I really believed it to be a good piece and possibly the start of the new direction I was leaning towards, though now it's a tad late since the moment of opportunity is gone and it was the anger from that one painting that started me off in this mess. Often for me I need a moment of pure hatred and rage in order to do something drastic in my work otherwise I find most of my work to follow the same patterns.

I remember I just locked myself in the office for three straight days with the easel by the futon so I could lie down and keep painting (I got my easel back cause we needed the folding chairs for something else). The end result was 3 new pieces all done up with progress made towards a huge canvas piece of Toronto- something that even shocks me since I have said time and time again that painting the sky line of Toronto makes my blood boil, I don't know why. Maybe because it is so cliché.

In between of painting, doctor's visits and the occasional short walk, things are not up to speed for the New Year. Scoot, my orange tabby, almost ran away as well- she got out on Christmas night and it took me a while to find her. I found her in a big ball shivering in the snow behind the house. Damn thing was so excited about being rescued she leapt out of my arms as I got the door open. My reaction to her recent breakout was to buy her some new fangled activity center that she can bother herself with- though lately she's been following me all over the apartment like I am Britney Spears and she's the paparazzi. She just camps out a few meters away from me and watches everything I do and doesn't care if I want to see her or not- she's bustin open the door to the bathroom when I am in the shower, she's jumping all over my bed when I am trying to sleep and eyes the back of my head when I try to ignore her when I am typing.

The toy itself is basically an elaborate quilt infused with feathers, burlap, crinkly noise paper, yarn and attached on one side via Velcro is a neon green dome with a tropical palm tree with two dangly coconuts. It's quite atrocious and thus fits nicely into my décor. I get the feeling she plays with it to appease me and constantly gives me insulting looks when I chatter "Let's play with your new crappy toy!"

Since I am at home all by myself in the day all I have now is Scoot and the painting. Daytime TV is disturbing and I honestly believe that anyone who is at home sick should NOT watch. Daytime TV only leads to vomiting, headaches and the sad realization this is your day.

The only other thing that is getting me hot under the collar is the constant reports of local graffiti reported in the news papers. One story in particular was the bombing of several antique train cars at the Railway Museum off Guelph Line. I am all for the need for freedom of expression but this act was heinous and downright ridiculous since the cars are stationary and go against the whole concept of bombing a rail car… unless you were planning on doing something so rude it would make the headlines in the local papers- helps if the museum hands out color images of the work in its entirety to help these kids feel powerful… oh they did? That's right. In all the local papers I saw the same story with photo and did the spit fly from my mouth as I yelled.

You can possibly guess what those words were.

First off- it is never a bright idea to hand out photos of vandalism to the papers. I will end argument here if this was an act of graft and call it vandalism simply because the museum is closed for the season and unless you are going into the museum you wouldn't see the cars. Someone did this job to get attention- like all acts of vandalism. The reason why it is not a great idea for photos of the entire mess to go in the papers is you are basically panning out to the egos of the vandals. This is what they want and now they have a clipping for the scrap book.

Second- Now that someone has taken such a bold move who is going to copy this behavior? I am all for the art form and I do the occasional piece (though that was way way way long ago and I always asked first and recently I just buy my own board and paint on that for shows and such) however, who is to say someone is eyeing this picture and gets a smart idea that its easy and thus a rampage of shitty tags go up in my neighborhood.

After watching Halton Hills council on the graffiti issue on TV I fell over laughing to what they were saying about the relationship of tagging and gangs. If you want to call three kids with spray cans and nothing better to do a gang then slap me. Well, three kids with spray cans and nothing better to do can be a gang but hardly anything remotely close to the gun totting city thugs going thru turf wars. So slap me. I doubt any of the tagging occurring in Halton Hills or Milton has any negative gang qualities since they don't stand out as warnings in my eyes. I have seen gang tags in the past and most of what I saw in the meeting were lame copy tags were some kid was trying to get it right… maybe for that big graft trade show in Montréal they have every spring. Though on drive-bys on the few hot spots I know of I always see kids hanging around so there is no shortage of bored kids sucking up the place.
I also find that tags and graffiti are hieroglyphics to people over 40. I can look at something and pull out the team name, the dedication and the form of the message and it looks like squiggle to my dad. Almost everyone I know who's over 40 has no idea what 4:20 means either… except this one guy who was ranting to a group of us during an interview I was conducting:

Over40guy: "I really hate the vandalism around here and it's getting worse."
AnnK: ""yeah. It's a pain."
Over40guy: "You know, I kept seeing this same 4:20 thing painted everywhere and I had no idea what it meant."
AnnK: "is that so?"
Over40guy: "Yeah- for weeks I kept thinking, what is 4:20? I even looked it up in the bible to see what passage it was but I couldn't find it."
AnnK: (trying not to burst out laughing) "Oh yeah?"
Over40guy: "Yeah- it wasn't until I asked a friend that I found out it was the time everyone smokes pot in Jamaica."
AnnK: "How did your friend know?"
Over40guy: "He looked it up online for me! So all these kids are in some sort of pot smoking Jamaican gang!"
/me slaps myself over and over until I die.

4:20 is so overrated. I should make 8:15 a new sensation as the official time to eat pie in Milton.

Fun Things You Can Do When Sick

2008-01-02T00:30:00.001-08:00

…

Okay. I realized it's really hard to do things when you're sick- especially when moving around too much causes you to barf. Lying around in bed all day is the pits for someone who is ruthlessly known for "not knowing when to stop". There are ways you can get around doctors orders, though.

Bedside Art Easel
Currently the only easel I own is on location at the Dorland-Haight Gallery here in town. It made perfect sense to leave it there because of the Famers Market 3 months ago and I also hate the bloody thing because of how I acquired it and how much of a piece of crap it is. So instead of digging up the past and telling you a dumb story (as I normally do) I'll just tell you how one folding chair can have so many brilliant possibilities for art. That's right. If you turn a chair upside down it turns into a bedside easel. Try putting another chair the right side up and you can put your water and books and brushes for easy access. The bedside easel was developed by Henri Matisse about a billion years ago and works better than anything you can steal from aspiring want to be postmodern artists who suck. You don't even need to put your beside easel by the bed- you can be crafty and put it by your loveseat (like me) or chesterfield (Hello- it's a chesterfield for the love of Murphy… a couch is something trailer park hicks make babies on) so you can paint while watching the news feed on the CBC.
Newspaper Colouring Book
For this you need someone to give you a newspaper (try The Sun since most of their pictures are still black and white), ballpoint pens (any colour but black works the best) and a set of markers. I used to do this all the time when I was a small child and would spend hours under my dining room table colouring and drawing to my amusement. Hate reading about Britney Spears (I know I do)? Why don't you give her bald head a new winter Do? Just draw some lines coming out of her head for hair or put a few crack lines in there… maybe she stinks and you have to draw a few flies coming off her… maybe she needs to lose weight so you use a black marker to "fix" her ass by marking out all the unnecessary rolls. Word bubbles are fun as well. If you can't think of anything funny, look at the comics page and take a "one liner" (such as Garfield saying "Stuffed Again") and write that in? While you're at it, why not edit the comics page entirely and give it a dose of reality by marking out everything Garfield says/thinks. I like to draw sexy lingerie on politicians or movie stars I don't like to stick on the fridge for months of amusement.
WARNING: Put away all your markers AFTER using them. Do not make the mistake of taking your medication and colouring your newspaper colouring book in bed. You'll pass out. You will roll around in bed. You will be covered in marker and look like that 16yearoldgirl who passed out on the floor of your kitchen during a party and someone wrote "FREE PARKING IN REAR" on her back with an arrow pointing to her ass (or worse).
Make a Fort
Using the cushions from the love seat, pillows, duct tape, folding chairs and blankets I can watch TV and it feels like camping. "I'm not sick- I am a wild and lusty adventurer discovering the untamed landscape of the postmodern Canadian frontier" I yell when someone comes in to give me my newspaper so I can scribble all over it. Its fun to invite people over to come and sit in your fort because they all have to get down on their knees and crawl in the side hole to discover your inner world of fun. It is good housekeeping by providing snacks for your visitors so make sure you have a thermos full of vegan hotdogs, Gorilla Munch and water bottles to offer them when they stop by. Hey, it's just like owning a condo and roughly the same size as one. If you want, get freaky and make fort love though doing so might mean the untimely doom of your dwelling thus rendering it unsellable on the market.
World Championship Contests
You need someone else to help you out for this one like a roommate or your cat. I like to have poking contests where I jab my opponent in the ribs and see how long I can get away doing this until they fight back or get up and leave. Once your opponent does something like yelling "You're nuts", "I hate you" or "You're cheating and this sucks" you automatically win. With Scoot (my cat) I like to see how long I can pet and tickle her before she gets moody and walks away (or bites me). If you think poking is too immature or people run away you can always have a world building contest using things nearby and make towers or conceptual art. If you get good call your local gallery and try selling your new bedside creations marking it as postmodernconceptualignorance though you might have to throw some red paint dripping all over it since its not postmodernconceptualignorance without uber layers of postmodernconceptualignorance red paint all over it. That shows how hardcore of a postmodernconceptualignorant artist you are and you don't even need to own a skateboard.

Adventures in Journalism, A Bee’s Story

2007-12-31T03:35:00.000-08:00

This is a story of a spelling bee for grown-ups, a charity fundraiser for Halton Literacy that happened some time ago. The paper that I worked for was there in full force and we had real goals to win this competition so I was not on the spelling team. They brought me to take one for the team and cheer us on because we all understand AnnK’s dyslexic issues when it comes down to editing day. I was basically the paper’s cheering team since I had the loudest, most annoying voice.
Our team, Bernadette, Donna, and I, show up to the spelling bee dressed in our best business casual and then we notice that every other team was dressed up in historical costumes or in cheesy headgear. I just stomp my foot down and yell “AW MAN- I COULD HAVE BEEN WEARING A BEE COSTUME??!?!?! Mutherfucker” and promptly the three of us felt the heat and decided we needed to get costumes ASAP.

This was my task: make costumes for everyone on a budget of $20 and in a half hour.

Could she do it? DAMN RIGHT, AnnK always delivers! I made Bernie drive me to the dollar store in town and I went to work to find costumes.

First, I grabbed a few Hawaiian lays and then I grabbed streamers, bee stickers, glitter, and funny craft things. It was during this shopping rush I felt the pain of not eating in 8 hours hit me like a ton of bricks in one of the isles. I was seeing stars, funny black wavy stars in my face and I hunched over trying in vain to get my vision back. This small boy (he had to be like 7 years old) walks up to me and starts looking at me funny and I start to focus into his face as I lean forwards “collecting” myself. Why is this nosy kid looking at me like this? “Hey- Hey- Hey, Kid- how are you?” I say, trying to blink my eyes back right.
The boy looks at me as if I was a long dead relative. “I know you. I have seen you before,” He says.
My head starts to race- it is never a nice thing when a small child is all up in your face with the line, “I know you.” I could imagine this having happening to people would be far worse, but I am a paranoid cookie. “OH- You know me? Please- think hard. Where have you seen me before?” I ask him as if I was horribly lost and trying to figure out who I was and where I came from. Hunger and deadlines can do that.
He looks at me even harder. My eyes are staring to let light back in normally and then his face lights up. He squeals, “I KNOW YOU! You sang with my dad last week at the Dickens!”
When I hear this, I literally drop everything in my hands and my eyes shoot wide open.

Enter the horrible flashback.

I am in the bar and James is by my side. I down my wine in 5 minutes and get my coat. I am a rogue woman, depressed, disenchanted, trying to do what people tell me to do to get out on my own and mingle with other people all the time trying not to smoke as much. The singer on stage is singing California Dreaming, I love that song and he is good and its half past 11, time for bed. As I am leaving the man on the stage looks at me long and hard and then wails out into the mic “WELL WELL- Folks, we have a treat today! The lovely and talented painter AnnK is here in the bar!” The crowd starts clapping, roaring like lions and my face turns beat red. “WHO WANTS TO HEAR HER SING A SONG?” Before I can even duck out the door or get Patty (my bartender) to save me from this, the crowd shoves me on stage and a mic is hammered into my gob. “Uh- I was just going home.” I say. The crowd groans, and then starts to chant, “SING! SING! SING!”
“I do not think you know any of the songs I like to sing” I say to the guitar player. He laughs and says, “EVERYONE KNOWS A BEATLES SONG!” I just hang my head and mutter in the mic “If I sing, will you let me leave?” and before I could say anything else, I was singing Yesterday. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR MILTONS LOVELIEST PAINTER!” He roars after as I finish. Jumping off stage, I catch a glimpse of a little boy, 7 years old sitting with his family at the bar, clapping and cheering….

End horrible flashback and in the Dollar Store.

I am on the floor, arms stretched to the heavens, yelling “NOoOOoOOoOoOOOOoOOOOOooOOoOoo!!!” at the discovery of the little boy. People stop and look up from what they are doing, the boy starts to giggle and says something smart like, “You’re weird”, and I mash my head into a nearby display. Pulling my head out, I notice I slammed my skull into a huge display of glow sticks. Suddenly- I knew why this completely embarrassing thing happened. “ALL RIGHT,” I yell. “GLOW STICKS!”
I grab a rack of them, the boy is now scared and I run off down the isle giggling, looking for Bernie. I find her and say, “We can do this Raver style!” and she just laughs. For a 40-year-old woman, she is pretty down.
We race back to the Spelling Bee, top down in the Jag, hair spinning in my face. I make up glowing bee crowns for us. Donna is highly impressed with my last minute costume skills.

NOW THE PUNCHLINE:

No one told us this would be televised. Well, no one told me and especially no one told Donna however the cameras WERE there. The judges tell us each team must get on stage and describe what their costumes mean to the entire audience and the people watching at home. Donna turns red, looks at me, and asks what do we say when they get up and are covered in glow sticks and lay flowers. I bring my 3rd glass of wine to my lips and chortle, “Tell them that we are wearing flowers because all the damn bee’s want a chance at our honey.”
Donna laughs and says I am brilliant, or I think she did or I wish she did- hard to tell after a few. Our team gets on stage and guess what? Donna froze. As the camera zooms in on her in a crowd of everyone who is everyone in Milton she says, “We are wearing lay flowers because everyone knows how journalists just want to get LAIED.”
The crowd stiffens. My eyes shock open. A boy in the back row yells “ALL RIGHT” and the room bursts out in a fanfare of laughter, clapping and hooting.
I slump in my chair and order another wine on our tab. The waiter makes eyes at me, he is a horribly attractive Italian boy and Nina nudges me, “Hey- go for it!” I hunch up and think, “It is going to be a rough night.”
We came in fourth place. I felt like I was watching “A Boy Named Charlie Brown ”- the cartoon where Chuck goes to the Spelling Bee nationals and fucks up on the word “Beagle.” We fucked up the word Pterodactyl- I KNEW THAT ONE! I did not spend most of my junior high life reading up on the bones of dead monsters for shit and giggles. I remember afterwards I was in the Dickens running around with my suit jacket up over my back making “GAW GAW GAW” sounds to the people who came to the after party as if I was some dead flying lizard.
I remember later a male friend came to my rescue, dragged me home by my ankles and threw me into my bed at 2:30 in the morning. When he tossed me into my bed he asked me with a smile “Is it true what they say about Journalists?” I look up at him from under the pillow and say, “I have heard that those stories are grossly exaggerated,” and I passed out.

Stick Around for Joy

2007-12-31T02:21:00.001-08:00

There isn't much of 2007 I can honestly say I remember as pleasant. I spent most of this past year in a painful daze from my battles with illness. Well, really only one illness… January of last year I was just recovering from a bad stint of mono with high hopes that everything was "just going to get better". It wasn't until after celebrating Malanka I collapsed while making my breakfast only to be woken up by the smell of burning toast three hours later late for work.

Mono wasn't finished with me yet and for odd reasons my liver enzymes were rising with little or no concern for alarm from my doctor. I tried to be good- avoided drinking most of the time, tried to cut down on greasy food, went for walks around the track in my neighborhood- only I wasn't getting better and things seemed to get worse. I noticed how fat I was getting suddenly even when I was watching what I was eating, I noticed how tired I was all the time, those horrible migraine headaches that would settle in like it "ain't no thang" at awkward moments (usually in interviews, tours, work) causing my eyes to throb and on top of it the general list of other issues of my personal overall health. Simply put as my relationship with eating was heading towards a major breakup.

The worst part about contracting mono (besides the pre story of how I got mono) was that a week after blooming out in a horrible rash and becoming dehydrated I learned my aunt pasted away and I couldn't attend the funeral. I was horribly depressed about this as she was the only living relative I knew of on my father's side and though she wasn't a big part of my everyday life, she was one of the few people in my life I had that "family connection" with.

Though my Aunt was a minor part in my life it doesn't mean I didn't love her any less than anyone else in my family. I have different relationships that vary from other people and I strongly believe one of the powerful sides of love is the kind where you love someone from afar. Watching over someone is sort of love too…

I also felt I had a bond with her because we shared much of the exact same pain though on different levels. She threw up her food; I simply lost all hope in eating.

That's why I was hinting that my relationship with eating was on the outs. It has hardly anything to do with feeling fat- I was actually embracing my recently added 20 pounds since it marked a momentous moment for me as I finally had tits. It had more to do with an ongoing battle I have always being that I hated food, I hated eating and I was living in a society that was hyper obsessed with all of it. It is hard to get excited about a meal that is going to make you ill and eating played out like a game of Russian roulette because of the ambiguity of a meal actually doing what a meal does for 90% of the population: satisfies.

A popular story about me (which sadly many were witness to) was when I got food poising in the 10^th grade during the rehearsals of my high schools production of Bye Bye Birdie. Part of what made this event what it was is due to eating food made for me from a very dear friend and several hours later filling an entire bathroom (not just the stall- the ENTIRE 4 stall bathroom) with vomit. I was stunned for the most of it and contemplated my gross achievement as my lips turned blue and my peers flocked around to rush me to the emergency. After that point, eating scared me.

I had good reason to feel this way as the pain from eating something as simple as a gummy bear would cause an onslaught of pain 10 minutes later. There was also the pain of making that better choice to eat healthy and dealing with the social bullshit that comes with it since you don't expect jerks to understand what you're going through when they order a meat lover pizza despite reminding them about vegetarian alternatives (and years later they wonder why I refuse to add them to my facebook). Those same jerks will go around saying it's all about image and/or wanting to be in pain to get noticed. I complained simply because I hated the attention I received from my peers because of my eating habits. I perceived those who teased me to be ruthless pathetic morons since they never knew what it was like to spend an hour at a really fun party sitting on the toilet in pain and seemed to take delight in my suffering with my 'healthy' choices.

Eating is painful with an inflamed liver and is partly why having one inflamed is so horrible. If you knew that everything you ate would result in uncomfortable pain afterwards then it really doesn't do anything for the excitement of eating. You get hungry for 5 minutes and then the idea vanishes once you remember the pain. In the last 4 weeks I have lost a great amount of weight simply because I never got hungry due to pain. Eating equaled pain, not eating means being tired and when you combine the two you end up with horrific results.

My mind is going through some rough thinking as I can't physically leave my apartment due to the pain. When you go into your second week of being hungry and tired you feel like an empty shell, an earthbound ghost, a disconnected phone- whatever. I start thinking "This is convenient anorexia" as it doesn't feel like anorexia because I am simply sick and I am going to get better.

Am I going to get better?

Now that I look back on everything I always had a love/hate affair with eating. I could blame my mother's cooking all I want but that doesn't explain why my eating habits are so destructive as I haven't eaten any of her food since I moved out 5 years ago (xmas excluded). I could say I live in one of the most strangest eating societies, the all consuming North Americans, and the blame can be put on pesticides, hormones, trans fats and the manner in which eating is portrayed in our media through TV shows, movies, commercials and in print. I doubt that since I didn't feel so horrible eating a Quarter Pounder with Cheese post "Super Size Me" and Adbusters did little to swoon me over to a sustainable eating existence due to me deciding it was getting "too damn preachy" in 2001. Eating was always a huge ordeal because it caused me so many problems and it had little to do with 120 pound floozies in magazines or sexuality. It hurt and I wonder how many other people have the same feelings and problems I have dealing with the "A" word.

Anorexia is still a taboo in our culture since many people don't understand it at all and refuse to "get it". If you ask THE INTERNETS, Anorexia happens to 16yearoldgirls and has everything to do with image and not feeling thin enough. I hate that. I feel highly inferior putting me in a "perceived category" of low-image depressed 16yearoldgirls who feel chubby since I doubt that everyone who has anorexia feels the same way or fits in with that category. I feel different since I perceive I am in a different category of women who embraces her fat (TnA), has no problems being seen in public in my pjs and has no right mind for impressing anyone with my body since I figure everyone else and their brother has a body of their own and can have ogle access to any sort of body you want through the magic of Google images. That doesn't mean I shouldn't get anorexia- and it doesn't mean "I have an excuse so don't put me into that group of… PEOPLE" (said in an overly hammed up form of repulsion). I just don't eat right now.

People can have anorexia for reasons that have nothing to do with image, feelings or society. Amazingly almost everyone I know suffers from some sort of eating disorder (they binge, they over eat, they don't eat right, they forget to eat, they obsess with eating, list goes on) so I have no problems talking about how much of a crappy eater I am and it doesn't bother me in the slightest.

I often wonder what my Aunt's story was- I'll never know now since that door of opportunity is closed. Though it's not a total loss as I know I can freely talk about eating with almost anyone and get a sad song played out to me that is highly personal and different with everyone I meet. With different people enters different attitudes about what we shove in our mouths and thus I could worry less about all the hype about eating disorders and that this is something everyone goes through. I know plenty of guys who do all the same things what we perceive only 16yearoldgirls do- some are quite boisterous about the topic as well. The problem with eating disorders is it is everybody's problem and too many of us obsess with stamping a seal over what bothers us or what we can't explain about who we are.

We are all united through our horrible eating habits- some are more serious than others and some are just a blip on the radar. I think the reason behind why eating disorders are so looked down is because it's not like anyone is making you not eat or throw up or binge. You do it to yourself. You choose to do so because something hurts. It also happens that some people have some sort of bad habit of looking down on people who "can't seem to help themselves" when it comes to eating. You can classify those people as inconsiderate jerks you will never add to your facebook because high school was SO 9 years ago.

And BTW, it is choice. It is the choice of eating vs. different levels of pain for many. Pain is apart of life and life is what you make it. How does it do go? Life is cheap, death is free and the middle gets bogged up somewhere down the line with experience, conversations and diets. It is also your choice to "play with it" or "DEAL with it" like any problem anyone else would have by asking questions, looking for answers and finding what it was you were looking for when you open the fridge.

I do miss pizza, though.

Playing Hide and Seek in a Discount Superstore and Alexander Graham Bell

2007-10-30T17:21:00.000-07:00

I was tempted to get a few of my friends together for a shopping adventure at my Superstore and play a game of hide and seek. No one seemed interested. I guess I am getting old or I need more immature friends.

My store is great. I used to have something against big box stores until this one rolled in. I think it had to do with the lousy Walmart shopping experience I would constantly get when trying to buy something simple like underwears. However the new Milton Superstore isn’t like other box stores since this one doesn’t smell like cheap burning plastic.

Yes, the smell of a store plays a big role in the experience. Would you want to buy underwears from a store that smelt like McDonalds? How about burning cheap plastic? What do you think the underwears are going to smell like before you put them on? I rest my argument.

The other thing I like about my new Superstore is the PC/No Name label. I grew up on that stuff. We always had something like No Name Yogurt or No Name cigarettes lying around the house.

The more yellow I saw the more likely the family would go somewhere cool for vacation. I remember one year my brother wanted these stupid snack-pack shit things in his lunch and suddenly mom was shopping at the A&P. That was also the same year we took our family vacation to the birth house of Alexander Graham Bell.

Tour Guide: “Alexander lived here until he was 5 years old before moving-“

AnnK Aged 9: “Did he invent anything cool here?”

Tour Guide: “Uh… no.”

AnnK: “This sucks and I want to go home….” (followed by severe temper tantrum.)

Next year we bought only No Name brand stuff and we got to go to Wonderland. The yellow helped in saving my dysfunctional family.

Hey, one year my mom bought my dad a 4L jug of No Name malt vinegar for a Christmas gift. If that doesn't scream "WTF" then maybe you should join my mom's stich and bitch on thursdays.

Superstores are pretty boss. They have these big bins full of DVDs and video games that no one in their right mind would pay full price for discounted to $5 each. To me that says “easy birthday gift”. Sarah is getting a copy of Barbie’s Fun and Fashion game for the DS system where she can play as Barbie’s fashion consultant. She will hate it but its better than a 4L jug of vinegar.

Confession

2007-10-21T22:06:00.000-07:00

I’ve started painting in acrylics again.Confession is off an idea I had a few years ago to focus more on the activity of a location then the location itself. Usually when I start a new painting that isn’t a commission these days I find myself very frustrated and angry while working on the piece. This is partly due to the fact when I paint something that isn’t for someone necessarily I am highly critical due to the fact I am painting it for myself and I am always my toughest audience.

I will admit in the past few months I have been slightly angry towards painting for myself- possibly for this reason, possibly for reasons more personal and related to my health then others. It’s difficult to bring the same sort of joy to a painting when my health is failing and anger seems to loom around the different corners of my working life.I think the best way for me to beat the demons in my life is to follow my philosophy of painting: Just be fearless and get it done.

I feel horrible about many things right now and there is little of what I can do about it but paint, since painting is of what all little I can do now without someone pulling the strings elsewhere. As I paint this picture of the two friends sitting by the church- perhaps I will have them eat ice cream as Greg and I would stoop on the Knox steps with our bowls- I battle a years worth of attacks from all fronts in my mind. Attacks from back-stabbing ex coworkers, attacks from self-minded friends, attacks on my body and the biggest blow of all from inside of me since I think I tend to be my worst critic.

If I can put it all aside and just get the painting done then I will know getting the next 5 commissions for Christmas will be a walk in the park and I will be strong again.

New Designs

2007-10-08T16:09:00.000-07:00

Just finishing up a new sketch in the new book I bought a few weeks ago. Since I was sick I have been neglecting my sketchbooks and my desk time. In light of this, I will promise to have a new sketch up every week updating you on my progress.

Speaking of progress, it seems as If my coffee machine is in need of a tune up and due to this I might be out of regular coffee for my morning breakfast for a while. This might seem like bad news but it seems as if a new café is opening up near my block. Ahhh it won’t be as great as Express Yourself since it was more of the people and those breakfast bagels, but hopefully this place will be just as good since it is so close. I will see what the view is like and share with you a few sketches.

Hope you all had a great thanksgiving!

Revolution what?

2007-10-06T17:48:00.001-07:00

What is all the talk about this revolution? A so-called righteous revolution against society, government, corporate power, and democracy? Anarchy will reign free? Please, do not make me laugh. We all know there are steps put in place to hinder any sort of revolution. Real revolutions built on truth, freedom, and justice for all is just a Saturday morning crock.

Truth: Revolution is nothing but power gain for the dollar. You will only see normal people crack out and revolt when you have 10% of the country with the money and 90% of the populace living in sheer poverty. Comfortable people do not revolt. Why fix something that is not broken? The government takes care to ensure the populace is balanced to avoid a revolution. That is its sole purpose.

You do not like it? Join a majority. Fix your thinking. One person cannot take on a nation lazy and fat, but piss off a whole bunch of people and get them on your side, sure- you can take out an entire army.

Why fight for a revolution built on money? Think after the revolution you will be sitting pretty with riches and freedom? What is true freedom? Whoever said freedom was happiness sure as hell did not live in the real world. Life is hard, gut wrenching and only what you put into it.

I say revolution is built on money only because the real victims of oppression never fight back. Look at a real victim; look at the family unit in war stricken countries just clinging on to survive. They will snivel and go along with power forces to end up alive. They will not revolt because they cannot. They have no power, they only have spirit and ghosts, and dreams cannot stand up to blades, guns, and tanks. In short, the people in need of real revolution will never revolt but will die like pigs to the hands of those with power. They do not want revolution they just want to survive. To survive, it is best to not revolt and escape since they shoot the talkers first. REAL VICTIMS DO NOT FIGHT BACK, NEVER REVOLT AND SUFFER BECAUSE OF THIS. They never dream of revolution, only an end to suffering by escape.

Anarchy can never truly exist either. It is an abstract method of speaking so small and insignificant that the human mind can never truly grasp it. Animals do not even live in anarchy. There is order and power to everything living and moving in the universe. Science is the great argument against Anarchy and why it can never work since science proves there is a logical reason for why. Even before science was suckled in closer, religion was used to fill the gap of why. Even philosophy has answers to why so in the human mind, anarchy is nothing more than a dream or a joke. Anarchy is a dream for the lazy and uneducated.

The country is set up to fail in small, insignificant ways to appease the masses from seeing the forest from the trees. There must always be smoke off in the distance making everyone look while the real evils take place in the opposite direction. Look at America. Look at how they put such a stooge in office to get everyone to look at the monkey behind the bars so you do not notice how it is social structure is flawed or how they rape those around them. They want you to choose him as a scapegoat that is why they keep feeding him.

People should be changing their tune to "how I can I change" rather than "fuck this, I am going to shit right where I eat."

True revolution is nothing more than power struggle for those in power. As long as the first world powers have control over your society, activities and money there will be no revolt.

Let It Be

2007-10-06T11:09:00.001-07:00

I recently rediscovered my love for collecting music again- side effect from working many hours at the new job and having extra spending cash. This hobby has all the influence from a certain friend of mine taking up a manager's position at the local music store here in town. Kyle has a wonderful ear for music and always has a great selection of music in stock for me to play around with. Here are my picks from Kyle's picks from the past few months.

1-Amiina's Kurr- I am an old fan of ambient sounds so it was natural for me to take this cd when Kyle said it was all about "small" sounds. Amiina, from what I know, is four musical Icelandic women who can play everything from a fiddle to (literally) the kitchen sink. I can throw this CD on and instantly I want to put on skirts with loud shirts.

2- Mylo- Destroy Rock & Roll- Fun, frolics, dabbling in micro-house, it's everything that I wished micro-house was in 1997 but wasn't. One thing I can't deny is my love for amusingly fun house vocal tracks (gurn gurn) so for the rest of the normal people on the planet there are a few boss techno tracks on the CD so everyone walks away happy.

3- Justice- Cross- Buy this CD. Buy the CD and stick it in your car's stereo. Turn stereo up all the way and play the first track. Put on shades and roll your windows down. Proceed to bob head in bad-ass manners as you cruise the 'hood to some of the most evilest bass-lines to come farting out of the new millennium's speakers. Your mom will hate this CD. Even more reason to buy it.

Hollah for a Dollar Store

2007-06-06T10:20:00.000-07:00

By Ann Kornuta

Remember when you were young and you would get that transformer or Barbie that looked just like the real thing though something was off? It looked like the real deal, it played like the real deal but it was called something different like “Transforming Man” or “Sally”- Barbie’s friend from Parkdale who’s on a shopping budget?

See, Canada used to have cheap discount store chains, such as Biway where mom would save a bundle off underwear, socks and cleaning products. Today they have been replaced with Dollar Stores (often their names have some sort of comical play of slang with the reference to “Loony” or “Toonie”). They often go hand in hand with the arrival of a Wal-Mart in a community. These Dollar stores are a plethora of bottomless bins of flip-flops, cheap toys and other “not so needed” forms of consumerism consumption.

Since there are only really 38 rich people left in the country that leaves the rest of the poor people who to demand a need for dollar stores. You get a real thrill of knowing that $20 can get you 10 items (or more depending on the store you go to) when your bamboozled with TV ads for PROPERTY IN CALGARY or PLASMA TVS or anything else real people can’t buy because ‘popcorn and beer’ comes first.

Dollar stores all share the common smell of cheap plastic from third world manufacturing countries and toxic glue made from an animal that possibly has a pouch or lack of a vertebra. They are also the only places that will still sell items you haven’t seen in years such as mountains of unsold Bob the Builder colouring books, Sailor Moon stickers and possibly Mr. T binders, if you’re lucky. They are also the only stores you will find that will sell toys with comical names like “SKULL FACE” with real jabbing motion or Virgin Mary night lights with the prongs coming out of her rear.

However, because the entire world is poor (despite those 38 rich people still kicking around but who cares about 38 people, really), dollar stores are a great way to live off a $20 weekly food budget if you don’t mind eating knock-knock off mac and cheese or cans of bizarrely strange meat. Hey, just because the box is smashed doesn’t mean the contents inside are damaged… or else they wouldn’t sell it right? O.o

The hands down best thing about the dollar stores are their toy section. Think of it as “The Land of Misfit Toys” with knock offs cleverly named to fool any 5 year old. The only problem is today’s kids are getting smarter and can notice the difference between a “Pocket Man” and a “Pokemon” (blame TV and the 38 rich people’s spoiled kids).

Dollar stores reflect the current economic status of our society. They scream “We don’t care as long as I spend money to feel good about myself”. The third world countries make our Transformers action figures yet cant buy them- and rightfully so because no one here in Canada relishes the thought of spending $20 for a toy when the dollar store offers the Transforming Man for a buck. Way to lower the standards of the quality of our products by encouraging society to spend more money on crap we don’t need which will eventually end up in some landfill or in the even a bin at a Goodwill.

Though, dollar stores are still the only place where I can find Jesus stickers to bung on coffee mugs and mailboxes.

BEAT REPORTER ANNK: Tree Hugging

2007-04-29T20:31:00.000-07:00

Tree hugging is all about paying respects to the environment and getting dirty in the process. A local farmer told me once that you have to be a bit of an optimist to plant trees due to the fact it takes 20 some years to see the results. But what about people who want to plant forests? P.O.W.E.R wants to make forests- the acronym stands for Protect Our Water and Environmental Resources, North Halton’s leading environmental organisation, so you better believe it when I say make forests. Last Saturday I was grabbing photos of the groups tree plant in an area referred to as Silver Creek.

It was possibly the worst weather for trucking out to the heart of Halton Hill’s rural and secluded escarpment community. Clouds loomed overhead not yet able to decide if they wanted to burst making me fear for my new digital camera. Our directions were sketchy at best since both Lauren and I have never been to this area. Though when we finally saw the simple white sign announcing we had found Sliver Creek things started to lighten up.

I didn’t ask to plant a tree, but as every good reporter knows its best to be an expert in whatever you are writing about. Let’s say I took the hands on approach to discovering what it means to hug a tree. You need things like a shovel bigger then Lauren, a triangle of recycled paper pulp, a bucket of mulch, a baby tree and a pen to cross this off the list of “things to do before I die”. It also helps to wear things like rubber boots and leave things like digital cameras, Euro-Trash fashion and the ipod back at home. The trees don’t care if your cool and I bet the other tree huggers aren’t there for a fashion show.

This was all Lauren’s smart idea, if I can add this because she was the one who lugged all the gear out after me getting my shots of people planting. It only took 10 minutes to do and required very little skill and knowledge, yet it equalled a strange satisfying calm to plop a stick-like baby tree into a freshly dug hole. Maybe, like that farmer once told me, I can come back here and see if the tree grows up to be a big strong super tree so I can lean back and take awe in its glory. There is something to be said about putting stuff in the ground and watching it grow opposed to pulling nasty weeds out and watching them flourish despite the efforts…

ROUND 2- FIGHT: Milton's race for Ward 2 battles out

2007-04-29T17:06:00.000-07:00

This election is packed with loveable-losers from the councillors who lost their seats, to the newbies who came so close and to the opportunist new kid on the block.

It’s going to be a dog fight between the 5 registered candidates leaving only two months of campaigning, door knocking and the occasional appearance at the weekly public town meetings. With councillor Mark Curtis stepping down from his duties of Ward 2, it's fair game for the empty chair where the once media-limelight and figure head once sat. I should also mention that this is going to be “round 2” for most of the men as 4 of the 5 bitterly lost in the prior election not some months ago, clearly a race between the underdogs.

Ward 2 is lovingly referred to as “Old Milton”, the part of the town where some 150 years ago Jasper Martin founded the township. Though “Old Milton” has its Victorian character, picturesque Mill Pond and historic downtown, not much has changed demographically in over 10 years. The majority of Milton’s “ripened” community still lives here, some residents still living in the same house they bought some 50 years ago, some who are 3rd and 4th generation Miltonians. Though some would assume right away the need for two councillors for the area with the least growth in the last 5 years is a bit pointless, the second phase of the Destiny 2 project is currently going to blast Ward 2 into the next major progression of new residents looking for their own little grasp of “small town community”.

So said, the residents of Ward 2 have a challenging task of picking the right man for the job for the next 4 years. The issue of maintaining some sort of logic within the sprawling growth is on the minds of many of the residents while making voice of this bi-election to those unaware it is even happening is #1 for all of the contenders running for the seat.

Aware or not, Ward 2 residents have several ways to check out the platforms of each councillor through the mighty power of the internets. Some, possibly taking a lesson from MP Garth Turner, even have cute little blogs where residents can converse digitally with each candidate. Lawn signs are sprouting up like fiddle-heads and soon dinners will be interrupted by the eager toothy grin of a wannabe contender for your votes, as if you already haven’t made up your mind 5 months ago. It seems as if every player is desperate in the second round because as they say second chances come very rarely.

My hope for round 2 is that the people of Ward 2 stick to their guns and weigh out each player thoroughly. Hey, Ward 2 is where I sleep at night- I have lived here all my life and I don’t plan on moving any time soon. If a councillor wanted my vote I would stress a few key issues from the ‘youthful’ point of view of someone who’s going to tire it out in this Ward for the rest of her life (no particular order):

1- Agree that since the majority of Ward 2 was planned and built before 1970 that the neighbourhoods need to be self supportive. No one is going to be bulldozing down the Victorian houses anytime soon so effort must be stressed for the town to support the small neighbourhoods and put in smaller grocery food outlets (such as a 24 hour Hasty Mart or more corner stores). Ward 2 is the only area in Milton to NOT have any 24 hour stores, gas stations and the area shuts down by 10pm.

2- Agree to look into a deal to move the chicken slaughterhouse OUT of the downtown. Yes, I know its going to be a pain but it’s going to be a bigger problem the longer it stays next to Mill Pond. On delivery days the trucks bellow down Martin and Main expelling the noxious odours of doomed chickens (can we say Avian Flu?). I also wonder what parents who bring their children to Rotary Park for public swimming and playground fun have to say about the smell on hot summer days. It’s gross, unsanitary, and the land could be used to further expand the downtown core’s shopping with the addition of a small grocery store, retail block, or community center further expanding the enjoyment of going downtown. Right now it stinks.

3- Agree to beautify and preserve the natural history that Ward 2 has to offer future generations. We’re talking a height and lot limit to houses and buildings here as well as keeping the parks tree filled and clean. I want more identifiable landmarks such as statues, monuments, anything that reflects the community and that will add to the value of this area. Ward 2 has the history so why not exploit it to rumble up a little interest to the rest of Ontario?

When it comes down to it, this is the area of town where ‘keeping it old school’ is taught. Don’t believe me then read the street names. A vote for a new councillor may make or break the small town ideals as Ward 2 rapidly spirals towards becoming the little village in the city.