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the non-entity.

September 26, 2013

i have become a non-entity here. well, a non-entity in that i’ve turned off my cell phone and only log onto facebook once a day, when i wake up, to make sure the world hasn’t imploded without me. (it hasn’t! egomaniac!). (though i think it’s a sad statement on society when i have to log onto facebook in order to keep in contact with a good chunk of my friends. email is becoming obsolete, i fear. anyway.)


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mt rundle (i think. maybe) in the AM


goddamn, it is so freeing to be free. this summer, i really got caught up in being aware of everything. it was partially my job – on the days when i ran all four of the wires (world news, national news, toronto news, and british columbia news) i had to stay on top of twitter, facebook, cnn, bbc, cbc, etc, in order to make sure that news that was breaking elsewhere was also on the globe and mail’s site. every day at work, i was continuously logged into facebook, and it became exhausting. it’s the black hole. one thing leads to another, and you’re never free. another thing about me – i hate being connected to a phone. my trusty old blackberry didn’t even have internet service, and when i switched over to the iphone this february (finally moving into the digital age, apparently) i hated that i could get internet service. i hate the idea of always having this leash. it’s kind of inescapable. and so i was also always checking my phone throughout the summer. combine that with ridiculous 40+ heat and a three-storey walk up with no AC, and i was going loopy. clearly, my writing kind of fell by the wayside. it was, i suppose, a necessity to make it through the summer job with my head all in one piece. it was also because coming home at 1 am after the night shift, i would be so stressed and wound up from all the horrible news i had seen through the past seven hours that i would sit with my feet up and play playstation (bioshock infinite, i’m in love) and bash people’s heads in or practice my carbine shooting. apparently, that was the most relaxing thing for me. a writer who nabs playstation trophies for a high number of kills with her machine gun (weapon of choice, carbine second, shotgun third. who prefers to play with a blastgun or a repeater? a weirdo, that’s who.)


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a bull elk in heat at bankhead ghost town


banff, bless you. despite some problems i may have with this experience overall, being here gave me the excuse to shut down. to tune in turn on and drop out when it came to my writing. (not sure if that’s really correct, but boy oh boy did i want to sneak a leary quote in there.) if i look fucking insane here, with my hair all wild and my clothes all black and my head all distracted because i’m thinking about the weetigo or the bear cult or the boreal forest, no one (of the other artists) judges me. i can tell everyone at home “please leave me alone, i need to write” and they, bless them, do. i’m NEVER one to talk about #amwriting shit, like book lengths or word counts, but i feel that this gives credence to the power of the mountains and the banff environment, because my mss has gone up about 32,000 words since coming here, and i still have a few more days. granted, this includes research (which some might argue is easier to write than narrative because it’s objective) but my bibliography is up to about 30 books thanks to the paul fleck library. how is it that whenever i need a book on a very specific subject, the banff centre library has a (rare or hard to find) book on that exact thing? magic is too easy of a word. harmony, maybe. it’s as if all of the stories had been percolating in my noggin ever since sending off the 40 page baby mss to OAC in october, and i didn’t give them space to expand or breathe or stretch their limbs, and now that i’m here, with nothing to do (mostly) but just write and no excuses – no love, no men, no phone, no booze (mostly…), no nights out, no chores, no lists, no work, no purses filled with all the stuff i need for a day out in toronto – they’ve come exploding out. with fists, and feet, and swear words, and teeth. (the way my writing usually comes out – kapow.) it’s been intense but not bad intense. lovely intense. it’s nice to know that my writing was still there, albeit in summer hibernation. this is the way i go – give me the cold air and the sharp clouds, and something inside of me wakes up.


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salsa dancing in the leighton colony’s thom studio


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