Cloud Number.....?

Gutten Morgen Frankfurt!
Well yesterday when I woke up in my parent’s apartment still in Dubai, Mum exclaimed “Look Em! Our building is amongst a cloud!” From the top of the window you could see into clear skies, and from the bottom of the winder, you could see clearly down to the ground (from the 18th floor). However in the middle, was a hazy cloud, lazily floating around, similar to what I was doing really after a few (too many) drinks the night prior. The day went by and my flight to Germany was that night at 2am.

So this morning, I woke up on a plane (despite the person next to me who had no concept of personal space, or personal hygiene for that matter) once more, amongst clouds. It’s difficult to consider having to go back to real life at some stage in the near future, where I will not spend most my time in the clouds. Note key word NEAR future though, nothing mentioned about immediacy! So for now, I will remain in cloud number….? I won’t say number 9, because I think my cloud 9 spent so long growing it had to turn grey and disappear into rain over the past year, you know, in order for a new fresh one to start, from a tiny ickle bitty cloud.

As I eat the sandwich Mum just HAD to make for me to take with me (or else she just wouldn’t be Mum) I must say the food is something I will strongly miss in Dubai. Not that it’s all that different from food elsewhere (aside from the specialty Arabic items that I am in love with, such as Basbousa! Which also got packed for me to take with me… Teehee) but it’s all about presentation there, and not to mention when eating at home, a Mother’s touch! The little pastries you get with a simple cup of coffee, the perfectly floated cream on the coffee, the fresh bread with olive oil and balsamic that comes with every meal… It’s all in the details!

It has been in discussion during my time there that I should consider a more permanent move there, secure employment and such. Not to say I have disregarded the idea, it just seems there is so much tension in that whole area of the world and I am not sure I want to be amidst it more than I have been already. It definitely takes a tole on ones psychological health to know how close it is, and to not hear about anything else all day. Although it is definitely an area of history in the making, there are many other factors I must consider. Thoughts and input would be much appreciated guys! All I know is I cannot go through another year of being on the wrong side of the bar! So really, my options are as wide as the globe. And due to that exact point, perhaps a different area of the globe would be wiser for me to make a more permanent move to…. Not to mention funner! I am not one for the nightlife in clubs, million dollar cars and wearing dresses that run halfway up your snatch despite being a country wherein this attire is frowned upon by the locals… Which is what Dubai is all about at it’s best really. I want somewhere with big forests, old buildings, human people who do not look like mannequins (and in turn make me look like a hobo), character, humbleness… Things you just cannot find in Dubai despite how impressive and grand it is. I got offered a job in Georgia (Europe) teaching English but… A hunch tells me no, and I tend to follow my intuition. I know something better is out there for me. I just need to find it. So I will be spending my time in UK searching by any means possible, for my next step beyond these travels that will end in a month. My heart reaches out to Italy, Germany and UK for employment. So these are the first places I will hunt in. This next step will flourish into much more than just employment. And of course finally getting to teach and inspire on a full time and permanent basis…. It seems like a breath of fresh air.
Well, of course my start date for post-grad would affect all of this as well, including its location obviously. So that is what I must first find out so I can know my time frame.

As I got to Deutschland, I was told at the transfer check-in that the lovely lady in Dubai checked my luggage through to the wrong flight, meaning the wrong country. Yay for intelligence and basic reading! I was told this was fixed but I won’t know until I get to UK….

Umm… At this stage I must point out that the lady who just marched past me in hysterical tears makes me feel better…

Must keep the positive thoughts going!

Oh… She’s back again.

Positive thoughts!

Besides, even in the case of it going to another country, I would get it back eventually… Eventually.

I shall now run for a much needed coffee and bury myself in my book for an hour.
Sending out some global love!

Steps

As my time here approaches its end, and I start to consider the next stretch of my travels, I cannot believe how fast time has past me by. But when I consider my own progress, it is accurate to the time elapsed, and I achieved what I came here to do.

I attained closure within myself on silly demons that have been playing my mind like a puppet show for years. Issues of childhood have been swallowed and digested.

I have managed to achieve a solid and concrete state in a relationship that has equally played my heart like a puppet show. This taught me so many things about myself and my strength, that actually made me reconsider my approaches, attainments, and hopes in my life. You are and always will remain my best friend, my soulmate, and I thank you for being my lesson. I will always have an infinite amount of love for you. That I will never deny.

I have reached a definite outline in terms of my priorities and goals for the near future up to the next 5 years or so. I am a master of being aware that plans never go according to plan. However it's better than waiting for something to fall out of the sky. If I want something, I will get it with my own two hands, on my own two feet, and anyone in my way can pull their lips over their own heads and swallow. End of.

I have realized that clouding ones mind does not enable it or help it to wonder. Would you wonder around in a hazy forest? How would you ever know what is waiting for you around the corner? Clarity is key. And in my clarity, I rediscovered my utter joy and love for art, it's basic materials and processes of creation, as well as the effect it has on me once I complete a piece. For me, the completed piece brings inner peace. I am in love. Creativity has carried me under her wings once more. And I am exhilarated at having my feet swept off the ground by her!

My previously mentioned daily project is to commence upon my return to Canada.

I have attained a physical appearance in which I do not feel that any aspect of myself is deceiving or misleading, and I am at total ease with myself and who I am. What you see is exactly who I am, whatever word you choose to define that with, that is who I am in your eyes. And I will not apologize for that :) In terms of physicalities, I do have one permanent change to be made, and that is one of my tattoos. A good friend of mine told me that associations are very important to our personal psychology, which got me thinking. If you see something that you associate to a negative aspect of your life, change it. I do not feel negativity in the association of this tattoo, but it does bring a particular person to my mind, and a particular time of our relationship. Whilst I cherish every moment we spent together, I want to look down at my foot and see something that I associate to love and stability in my roots, because it's what I stand on. I want this association to be my Mother. The title of my blog "Petit a petit, l'oiseau fait son nid" is something my mother has been saying to me since I was child, at any time of uncertainty, hurt, or self-doubt. This will be reflected in my transformation of this tattoo. I will be leaving hints of what it is at the moment, because as per association, I would be lying through my teeth if I ever tried to claim that the person I currently associate it to had not had permanent effects of who I am in my own evolution. He showed my sides to life and myself I never would have discovered otherwise. Again, thank you. Changes in the ink soon to come!


I cannot wait, at this stage, for the next part of my travels! The last time I went to UK, I returned inspired and brand new minded. And this trip will be so much longer, during which time I will have so much more time alone, of self reflection in a place wherein I grew up, wherein I nearly lost my mind, wherein I felt things I never want to feel again. In this trip I will have a very difficult visit to a grave I never could bring myself to see, my Papa. This trip will also comprise of more concerts! New people! Old friends! My wonderful and talented brother! And for the first time in my life, my cousin!

Let the love, light and healing pour in!
<3

Fresh Bread

Today, I am contemplating beginning a new daily project.

This came about from attempting to walk with Mum to the Marina Mall (my parents apartment is on the marina, and we had no car today) in order to pick up my reading glasses so I can actually see life out of a non-crooked frame. I started noticing people tilting their heads the same way my glasses tilted as they looked at me with my old frames on. I guess thats what I get for having wooden frames, wood warps.

Well our first attempt to go and pick them up failed, as it was far too hot to walk there, so before getting too far, we decided not to carry on and stopped at a restaurant for a cold salad on the patio instead. There was a lovely breeze to ease the heat, and it turned out to be a much better idea. After walking back up to the apartment, we flopped around for a while unsure of what to do next. Went back down to the grocery store to get some fresh fruit (and waste time), came back up again, lounged around some more... As I was flipping through the channels on TV, I saw Julie and Julia was JUST starting. Perfect, one of our favourites. This movie however makes me crave freshly baked bread and churned silky butter. A la Francaise! So back down I went, to the bakery section for fresh bread. I ran back up (probably looking like a starved crazy lady) and started thinking of the commitment this girl had, despite a really boring government job, to do something, everyday, that is just for her. 500 odd recipes, 365 days. Now seemingly I already do this because I paint and draw anyway. But the idea to set a deadline with a goal seems to be something that is calling to me, while creating something that at the end of it would relate to each other (not just independent pieces of work). My dilemma now however lies in the subject matter. 365 days is a good time frame to create something daily, with a really strong outcome at the end. I attempted the recipe thing, but when you live alone, everyday can be an adventure in terms of cooking, and it usually is anyway, so the challenge in it was out the window. I want to create something visual.

I am considering a visual diary (to be posted as a blog online as well) of myself, everyday, for 365 days. This may seem rather narcissistic, but for the non-artists who are reading this, I promise you it is a very tedious process staring at yourself for self-portraits for hours at a time. OCADU demanded endless self-portraits, and my last one consisted of words, I was too sick of looking at myself to make another one. Not to mention the idea of having to truly face myself on a daily basis, where I cannot hide from whatever it is I am feeling, as I tend to do. I will have to fully digest my thoughts at that time, and really embrace my feelings, emotions, and thoughts to create an accurate image. I will have to consider the colour of my soul on that day, the colour of my aura, including my health.

The question is, When do I begin?

Lights. Camera. Asshole.

Need I say more? I think not.

So my time here seems to be flying faster than I realized. Tonight, Madame Adrienne was supposed to be arriving already, but it seems she might not be coming because politicians are bickering and are screwing over Canadians with visas... Thank God I travel British. And a week after she was supposed to leave, on March 27th I will be on my next flight to UK via Frankfurt. We also have some family friends who will be coming to stay with us for the next week. As I anticipate the trip, the same vision keeps coming into my mind everytime I shut my eyes. When I sleep, in a day dream, seemingly even when I merely blink at times...

The big old tree by the river where we used to meet. But the establishment by it which my parents used to run, is grey, abandoned, dead. I know this vision of the building itself would be quite accurate to it's current actual state, because the people who bought it off my parents ran it into the ground, and took all the stuff we built with them. In my vision of it all, I am walking down the path towards the river, and I can see myself sitting alone, waiting for you. The me I am walking up to however seems much more simple. I imagine it is the me I would have turned into had I not moved to Canada. As I approach myself, we morph together, and I become the simpler me. I sit. Staring at the water, swinging my feet like I did in this same spot, 9 years before. And I hear your footsteps behind me. As I turn around I see you in the distance but your image is hazy. Partly because I don't know what you look like now, and partly because my eyes are not very good. You keep walking but you never reach me, and as I keep staring the day suddenly turns to night. That last night. The building is full of life again, the children are on the swings, the music is blaring from inside, and the summer breeze set the perfect mood. In an instant, I am in that moment on the old benches where we used to sit. As I turn my head to look next to me where you would have been, you fade. And the whole vision fades away, back to grey with you, as I turn my head back around to face the long wide set of stairs up to the old building, where the music had once been playing years before. Leaving me back in the present, under the tree, back to my current me, on a grey day, in an abandoned memory, swinging my feet back forth on top of the water.

I have to wonder why I keep seeing this. Will I ever see you again? And if so, will you see right through me the way you did then?

Why do I keep seeing this. What is my memory trying to tell me.

Especially after everything that happened beyond that night.

Am I supposed to see you again?

Lights. Camera. ........
Where are you now?

"Its better to do nothing and know why, than to do something and not know why you're doing it"

I saw or heard this somewhere recently, and it really put things into perspective. It stuck in my mind and keeps popping into my head with every decision I need to make. My fickle little self can't seem to make a decision on much recently though, and life is just staring at me in the face, waiting.

Last night I had a lucid dream, I could smell it, I could almost reach out and touch it. My old bedroom in Israel, crystal clear details. My old cupboard that was in my parents room in Egypt, my old rug, the high ceilings where I used to watch the cute harmless little lizards that lived all over the country, wiggling around the ceilings that we couldn't even reach. I was fighting for it, consciously in my dream trying to find answers. But they carried on like I wasn't even there. My mother, and some girl in her late teens whom I have never even met before. But she knew me, and she knew my questions, but she just kept saying "I am too young, I could be arrested for telling you. It's illegal for me to know". I remember feeling so frustrated in the dream. No matter how loud I screamed, fully aware in my mind of my screaming, I was silent. In my mind, as I slept, I prayed sleep would stay with me, in order to resolve this mysterious conversation. As I do in most situations of desperation since I was a child, I laid down on the floor between between the bed and the closet, opening and closing the closet doors, and I could physically smell the fresh laundry, the detergent my mother used to use in Israel. I could presently smell it in my sleep. As the girl switched off the light, my mother stood above my head, staring down at me she said "Stop asking. You have to learn to let go of the physical, the material". Right at that moment, Mum opened the door and woke me up singing. I woke up with tears on my face. I miss the life I had there more than anything, and no material will ever replace the love I felt, living in that country. I pray for it's turmoil to end everyday.

My dreams have been speaking to me recently, and God has been reaching out to me in my dreams. Perhaps this is why I am understanding a bit better, why I am taking a pause in life. Knowing why I am stopping, rather than continuously and blindly chasing more, running after what will make more money, all the while running away from what I am trying to distract myself from. Myself.

Drawing. Painting. Writing. Reading. Music. That is who I am, and that makes me a person who will never have much in material things. And I am proud of that. No matter what anyone has to say about it. Not even you. Not even me, my other me, the me who only tries to please social expectations.

Hey me, please me for once <3

We are in a hot country... So let's turn up the AC so we can all pretend we're back in the snow.

Doesn't that make a whole lot of sense? I will never understand where the pleasure is for my father to sit inside freezing spaces. Comfort 101 is the class he needs to sign up for. This is one of the many reasons I don't think I will ever be able to permanently live with him. Sitting and living in total discomfort, freezing my ass off for life just doesn't seem appealing (no guys I'm not THAT petty, there are lots of other reasons, this is just one that I am currently dealing with). I have literally been wearing layers, IN DUBAI. If I wanted to do that I would have just stayed home. Thank you father. This is oh so pleasant.

Now that my nagging is out the way.... Days like today I feel my bad habit wanting to come out. As my trip continues I start to think of the things I will have to face when I return home. The breakfast, lunch and dinner dates to catch up. The one on one drinking sessions, as well as the family get together's, jams, parties, and BBQ's which we have mastered oh so well over the years. All of these things warm my heart.
Then I have to consider the more serious side of life... and this is why I say, days like today I feel my bad habit wanting to come out. But some days are more difficult than others. If I have to face going back to that bloody job, I actually think I will have a nervous break down. I am sick and tired of pouring people's beer, listening to their wasted rants, pretending I give a shit about what allergies to what foods people have so I can tell cooks who barely speak English to modify a dish, only to get snapped on about it 9 times out of 10. The other 1 time out of the 10 is a perverted comment that was maybe funny for the first 5 years, now not so much. Not to mention the "can I pick up the drinks for table 95! *sigh, tapping fingers on the bar*" when I have 2 full sections to deal with and frankly I just feel like throwing all the bottles at everyone around me.... Ok so maybe the nagging wasn't out the way. But I guess it's just that day, where I have to get my head around the reality I have created for myself, after the beautiful escapism I buried myself in since I've been here. This reality can be summed up in one of my last moments at the bar before I left: Being held responsible for a douchebag not showing up for his shift, claiming to be deathly sick (and somehow waltzed in the next day just peachy keen), being essentially bribed into staying to cover said douchebag's shift, only to get yelled at and snapped on despite staying to help, by someone who in 5 years I have never gotten in any conflict with. Then after this fantastic double shift with no break (legalities much?), coming in the following morning for another double shift, and by the end of it, being found by my manager hiding and crying in the beer fridge, trying to calm myself down, trying to tell myself it's not so bad, that there are people who are far worse off than me. And while I appreciate all that I have, this somehow doesn't help. And amongst all this, I will not even touch upon the subject of the abuse we take from some customers. That subject is literally book worthy.

So here it is: I am sick of hearing everyone in that place bitch about each other, and then turn around smiling at each other. I am sick of hearing gossip about management, and having all the rumours held over my head as if I know more or have anything to do with them, just because I am nice enough to be friends with all of them. I DO NOT TAKE SIDES. I just don't care enough to, I have other shit to deal with in life aside from all that petty nonsense, and frankly, I envy you if you don't. I am sick of having to chase around for things that are not my responsibility. I am sick of working the hours I do with no break, just because I am on bar, and yet still get the break time deducted from my pay cheques. I am sick of politely saying hello to head office and being completely ignored as if I were a dog FOR 5 YEARS. I am sick of cleaning beer pipes, sticky fridges covered in gunk, picking gum off tables for their holy inspections, to get no thanks EVER. If I wanted to become a maid, at least Molly Maid has a car with pretty pink writing on the side. And the cherry on the cake that is the glorious place that I work in, I am SICK of going in there to be told "welcome home baby" in the back. While this is said by my favourite cook, it really puts things into perspective.

I am a happy person by nature. Sure maybe a tad odd and rough around the edges, but happy nonetheless. When I cross the threshold of that shit hole (it rhymes so it must be true), my smile fades, my spirit turns to grey, and I instantly start counting the hours until I can leave. But when I do leave, bad habits kick in to distract myself from the fact that I will have to go in again the next day. The artist in me struggles there, and my goals in life get shadowed and set aside. Vicious cycle anyone?

How do you stop a tornado from destroying it's surroundings? Short of just sitting and praying, waiting for it to end and hoping God has enough mercy to leave you with something to seek comfort in after. The tornado is my employment. The destruction is my life. The question is, who is playing Mother Nature controlling this tornado. Is it materialism? Is it the need to have something on a resume? Bills? The want for for more? The need to find a way out?

And what do you do when you realize after all of it, that you are your own tornado? And you are completely spinning and spiraling out of control.

I just want to go back to school.