Planting Life

Eh-yo I'm tired of using technology

Dont you hate it when you type a really long great post and the interweb steals it away? ME TOO! Guess what just happened?

Becoming "Un"educated

After 4 long years of university and still no degree I decided to give up the ghost and not go back for what would be my 5th year of 6 to complete my degree this September. Good god woman, what were you trying to be, a rocket scientist I hear you saying. Nope just getting my B.A. But while taking 21 credits a year of real courses not just flakey psychology and native studies (no offense but it's only a GPA booster), courses that required the reading of 3 500 page books a week (no joke) PER CLASS (times 4 classes, you do the math) I was also working part/full time as I felt I could manage.

Well I couldn't manage... at the end of year 3 there were signs of disillusionment with university but I shrugged them off because we decided to go planting that summer and my soul and heart were filled with the excitement and planning for our new adventure.

Planting changed my life. No. Planting saved my life...period, I would be the living dead right now like so many of the people I know "working jobs they hate to buy shit they don't need" (to quote my favorite author) So year 4 in university was hell. My disillusionment grew and I became more withdrawn from my elite honours courses where partipation was 20% of the final grade, the other 2 40%'s coming from 2 epic essays...no pressure right? 

I first went to university because I wanted to learn, I wanted to grow who I was as a person. I didn't go to get a job, university was not a means to an end for me so I did fantastically and had a 3.65 GPA despite the fact that I carried a fat F on my transcript for staying in (!) and then failing (!) my Math in Art course (more on that in abit).  I got awesome grades because the work wasnt work, it was fun, I was present and engaged in the topics. Nearing the end of my 4th year I couldnt even get out of bed to go to my classes let alone read the assigned readings and contribute to 3 hour group discussions. My heart wasnt in it. I saw the university as a leviathan churning out clones, making no attempt to squash the old boys club and silencing professors who refused to tow the line (namely my mentor and friend Prof Neal), all the things I thought I was supposed to rise up against.

Humourously in this debacle, I had decided to retake my Math in Art course to get a better grade to boost my GPA (the F still appears on the transcript but the better grade is used to calculate GPA).  The class I failed miserably in my first year was the only class I went all the way to university to attend, even if I had another class after if I would go home. I sat right up front, I asked questions, I brown-nosed and answered questions, I saw the profs after class , diligently and lovingly completed every assignment and even studied for the exam (I'm not a studier, I'm a pay attention the first time and remember it kinda person). I loved the class the second time around. It was team taught by a sweet and silly (for a math prof) east indian man and a gregarious, loud and hands on woman art prof. The first time around it was the same loveable math prof but paired with a know-it-all architechture loving jackass of an art prof who didnt really teach but rather showed us slides of famous buildings. I got a B the second time around, my best math grade EVER! I'm happy with a 50% or whatever the passing minimum is in math that's how terrible I am at it.

*big sigh* So....now I am not in university, I have to start paying back my student loan (admittedly that was the only thing keeping me in university was not wanting to pay off my student loans right away). I am happier than I have been in along time and I am working on living an authentic life, one more like the life we live when we are planting. Everyday in the bush is invigorating. It nurtures your soul to do the physically hardwork our bodies were made for. City life is kind of like the matrix, fakeness everywhere, flabby people sickened by a toxic society. There is no fakeness in a planting camp, everyone has crap in their eyes and shit in their teeth, you quickly move past these things to what life is really about. And sometimes that is as simple as doing nothing and smiling contentedly at all the slim dirty faces around....

TREEPLANTING SAVED MY LIFE. It gave me the courage to live the life I want despite the fact that it may not be right for most of the people I know and I'm ok with that.

Inspired

I figuring out of the hows and mechanics of typepad is not my forte and pictures still seem to be the biggest issue, as in getting them to appear as a real size, not a squashed distorted mess or a thumbnail.  The darling husband offers his help when he can but he works hard all day and so I dont want to stress him and pounce on him as soon as he gets home with an epic list of "to do's". So my blog remains lame and picture-less but hopefully not for long as I have felt a huge surge of creative juices lately...perhaps I should get a towel.

The magical internet has been my source of great inspiration but I honestly think it was Avery's will to make a pinata that reawoke my creative beast.  The pinata is a definate W.I.P (work in progress) along with creating 18 fabric mustaches on sticks for Stephanie's mustachio themed birthday party (don't ask!).  So in the flurry of mustache birthday preparation, I have felt the urge to create more although I don't seem to have an inch of free countertop,tabletop or even floor space, there is stuff everywhere.  My "studio" a.k.a the spare bedroom, formerly the computer room but no longer since the new laptop has permenant home on the living room table, is a horrid disaster. Hmmm writing "living room" just made me think that this a home that is truly lived in. Messy is what my mother in law would call it but I look and see yes dirty dishes but also little creative piles all over.  The mustache pinata...(oh yes a mustache pinata) is drying on floor by the never used front door after a second coat of 'mache.  The fabric mustaches are on the table under the window waiting for touch ups on the fabric paint "adhesive", the portable sewing cabinet is resting beside the fish tank and the beads and jewelery making stuffs are in tubs hiding in the end tables.  All of this stuff is withing a few steps reach, creativity at hand.

Back to my thought about my studio, I have decided much to my husband's delight to FINALLY shovel out and tackle the mess that has gathered in there since we arrived home from treeplanting in mid-august.  I have a large desk in there somewhere and a load of crafty supplies but they seem to be burried under planting gear, about a metric tonne of clothes (clothes that are all mine) and a bunch of other random stuff.  But I feel that cleaning that room and freeing up a creative space will allow me to 1. not thrash the living room on a daily basis 2. actually finish a project.  But I need to finish projects as I have signed up on swapbot.com for a bunch of great swaps coming up.

Off to dig myself out of a creative rut