Friday, 15 April 2011

Day 3 of Crappy Poetry

This is a mash-up poem from a short story, 8 lines long. I forget what it was called. Something about blue...


Coffee

The loafers belonged to a tall, slender man
Things were slow
He took a sip of coffee
We were both silent for a moment
He shrugged and took another sip of coffee
People had been calling me
Next thing I knew
His face got serious

Dun dun dun...
Julianna xo

Thursday, 14 April 2011

Homophobes

I seem to be battling a homophobe. Can I just say, I really have no respect them. When you do confront them, they back away like an elephant scared by the squeal of a pig. 

I'm 14, and I seem to have brought an Australian Uni student to the raw evidence-less remarks a defenseless drunk teenager would use. That's sad.

The facebook conversation went as follows. I've made it purposely vague, cos I don't want to get anyone involved in drama. But seriously guys, this is ridiculous. The only thing I changed is I put an asterisk in the swear words (e.g. f*ck) . That's how crazy this was. Note the lack of capitalization, apostrophes and punctuation in her writing...

My friend wrote about how she had some sort of sickness.

Homophobe: gay

Me: ^ homophobe?

Homophobe: i mean it sucks, it's 'gay' that she has tonsilitis

Me: So... you're using gay as a negative word... and you seriously couldn't just say "that sucks" or "too bad"? You couldn't just use a normal phrase that doesn't subtly violate people?

Me: It's an innocent mistake, but I think you'll survive if you don't use gay as a synonym for terrible...

Homophobe: wow, get over it, it's just a word

Me: Yeah, but still... I think you could do better. The N word is also just a word. It's all about context. Think about if your name was a synonym for sh*tty. It just doesn't feel good. I'm not gay myself, but I still think it's important.

Homophobe: i think that its none of your business what I say 

Me: I think that it actually is, cos clearly it's public. If you said something that maligns a group of people when you could just use a different word and not malign them, I think there's no truly important reason why you shouldn't change it. Give me a truly good justification for why you said it, I'll be gone.

Homophobe: I don't need to justify f*ck all to you

Me: If that's how you feel, fine. But really, it's too bad you have to be that juvenile to enjoy using a word that so slyly negative towards people just 'cause of who they love. Really, it's too bad you have to make it about prejudice. If you just would say "too bad" or "that sucks" or any other phrase instead, really, I'd congratulate you. There is no good reason to call tonsillitis gay.

My friend: Woah. Guys. Chill. I'm sick. It sucks. Get over it. There's no reason for an argument over fb. Seriously.

Homophobe: oh sweety, if i wanted a moral compass, I'd buy one

They were so egotistical they couldn't consider another view point, let alone counter me with anything other than mean, desperate interjections without evidence to back them up. 

I agree with Jamie Kilstein's idea to make adamant homophobes have labels. Wherever they go.
Julianna xoxo


Day 2 of Poetry

Notice I removed "Crap" from the title. That's cos I actually like these poems a bit. They make me sound deep. Also, I managed to make the third one basically entirely based on Sweeney Todd. I even fit in a lyric from Pirelli's Miracle Elixir. *cackles*

Mr. Pirelli. He makes an elixir of piss and ink.

So here, I basically took 3 lines and wrote 4 more lines after each one. The lines I chose were:

Belief is a Doorway, Pain is an Ocean, and Jealousy is a Razor.

Now that I think of it, all these poems are about dying. Hmph...

By the way, if people want to do poetry-ish things on their blogs or on their own, go ahead. It makes you feel more intelligent than you really are. Like if you listen to Bach or Mozart by your own volition.

So here are the poems:

Belief is a doorway
A doorway believed to give golden tickets
To send you to a paradise above
But the abuse and misuse of power often leads
To the bloody murder of a peace-bringing dove

Pain is an ocean
Endless in depth, yet from above
It seems shallow and flat
For only once one has drowned and died in the sorrow of the salty waters
Does one know of the anguish pain brings

Jealousy is a razor
Slitting the throats of those who pick it up
For if you slip on the blood of its previous owner
You nick the skin
Beyond repair

Julianna xo

Day 1 of Crap Poetry

Poetry is known as the art form for emo teens, lonely people, and musicians who make it look cool. I half fit into all these categories, so it doesn't surprise me that my teachers always give me an A whenever there is a poetry unit.

So here's my crappy poetry & some creative writing. Some of it isn't bad actually, but overall, let's just say I'm not the next Robert Frost or E. E. Cummings.

Ten Minute Spill: A Poem using all of the 10 words on a list.

Cliff, Lick, A fruit of your choice, Mother, Needle, Cloud, Whirr, Voice. I'll try and find out what it was...

Jamie B. Webb

Jamie B. Webb lived a quiet life on the seventy foot tall cliffs of Nova Scotia
He had just woken up after sleeping two hours too late
So he decided to call in to work sick for the day.


It was too beautiful to be stuck in the stuffy post office in which he usually spent his sullen Sundays
Slowly nibbling at stale bread, celery sticks and strawberries.

Today he would really live.
Live that seaside life from the picture books of his childhood
that inspired him to move here in the first place.
His mother had always told him he should relax more.

How apt it was then
That today was her birthday that dew-dropped dawn of a morning

She would've been seventy six, he pondered.

Still embroidering flowers on his pillows
A stitch at a time
With her needle
and violet thread

Still laughing with that forever resonating voice
When he would foolishly try to lick peanut butter off a teaspoon
Without her catching him.

She couldn't help but make you smile
Cloud watching in the whirr of the wind
As they did when the weather was as clear as it was today.

J xoxo

Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Dear Beethoven

Dear Beethoven,

I have spent 3 hours practicing Moonlight Sonata. And I haven't even learned the entire last line cos I'm too tired. It's a gorgeous song, but jeez... why did you have to do so many complicated modulations? It's driven me mad.

Thanks,
Julianna
(Some kid learning piano)

Friday, 8 April 2011

The QI obsession

Alright, I already loved Stephen Fry. I watched several episodes of QI & Stephen Fry In America before seeing him which I adore and laughed about, and I have beautiful memories of listening to him reading the audiobooks of Harry Potter at the age of 8, vividly picturing the Hungarian Horntail chase after Harry on his Firebolt.

So Stephen Fry was pretty high in my listings.

But then, after seeing Stephen Fry and meeting him and finding out how incredibly kind he is in person, I felt I needed to watch more.

This always happens. Near the time of seeing comedian live, I get obsessed with them. It's understandable.

When I saw Eddie Izzard, I drew a portrait of him from Dress To Kill and watched a clip from every show of his other than Stripped, cos I wanted the material to be completely new live.

When I saw Tim Minchin, I drew a portrait of him. My dedication was further proven by me convincing my Mum to take me out of summer camp for a day to see Tim Minchin (camp was four hours away). I subsequently never stopped talking about him.

Second time I saw Tim Minchin was cos I saved up all my money to go to Stratford-upon-Avon from Toronto (I really wanted to see Matilda and meet my online friends, so I made it happen). I sang Drowned while walking to the bar nearby the gig, bought myself a Tim Minchin t-shirt & CD.

Jamie Kilstein: After seeing him, I bought his CD, have become a lot more aware both food-wise and in politics, have listened to 50 Citizen Radio podcasts (I previously only had a vague awareness of the show), and been vegan on Citizen Radio-related days (for example, Citizen Radio Host Allison Kilkenny's birthday).

Stephen Fry: I have watched 2 seasons of QI in a week.






That's a fourteenth of my week. That may not sound like much, but it is. I justify it by saying I learn interesting facts like "the universe is actually beige" and "Alsatians were not permitted in the Spanish Army because they had an IQ of 60 and the Spanish Army required an IQ of 70 to be a soldier". They are true facts, and rather fantastic ones at that. Time much better spent than when I used to watch Cake Boss for hours on end. But seriously: I think I'm going through a bit of a Stephen Fry stage now. I have to watch "A Bit With Fry & Laurie" next... I must do that.


Just wanted to chronicle it is all... I'll let you know if he becomes the next Tim Minchin for me. I doubt it, but Mr. Fry has very quickly leaped up my listings of favourite comedians (please don't make me list them, I can't put them in order other than 1. is Tim Minchin! Practically everyone else whose shows I have fully watched online get a 2nd place. I love them all. Tim Minchin is only put ahead cos he introduced me to comedy, does great atheist/logic material, & he plays some damn wicked piano). 


Julianna xo

Friday, 1 April 2011

Stephen Fry & the Glenn Gould Prize

I literally just came back from seeing Stephen Fry (among others) introduce the winner of the Glenn Gould Prize at the Royal Conservatory of Music TELUS building on Bloor Street W. I am extremely happy.


The presentation was at 10:30 am (during school), so it wasn't too easy to convince my Mum to let me off of school for an hour or two. I told her I knew he was never going to come back to Toronto again (seriously, I've never heard of him coming here ever), and that he was an incredible writer, TV presenter and the QI Master (which I watched sooooo much while I was in England & I also watch at home via the internet). Also, I knew I'd only be missing one class, at the most two: Geo (which we do nothing in) and Math (which I can catch up on). She wasn't entirely convinced, but said I could go on my own via TTC, and that she'd give me a ride there.


I excitedly ran down the stairs to find my Mum outside...but it turned out my geo class's clock runs 15 fast (I tried pretending it was an April Fools' joke, only to leave again 15 minutes later after watching every Mighty Boosh crimp on my friend's computer). At 9:58, I ran down the stairs again & jumped into the car, smiling. Then with Techno-Latin music, we went off to 273 Bloor Street West.


The Mighty Boosh crimping

First, let me start off by saying the place is gorgeous. As in glass walls, state-of-the-art architecture with the old building on the inside. Incredibly gorgeous. It reminded of the Royal Shakespeare Company, but with shinier floors.
The ceremony itself was relatively short, but incredibly well done. There were a load of politicians' notes that were read, speeches that were made, and a couple of polite jokes. Incredibly upper class, yet it was a free show. The Glenn Gould Prize is apparently the equivalent to the Nobel Prize for the arts, so definitely a huge deal. It was only 45 minutes long, but really interesting to see something so culturally upper class, but not snobby.


The crowd was both fancy and not. Up in front of me were a bunch of politicians (including Bob Rae) that wore clothes appropriate for a wedding, but behind that were the general  (and slightly liberal) public. The people surrounding me were:
1. A man who looked incredibly like Charles Darwin,
2. Two university students discussing politics and the stress put upon politicians & what they thought of different policies
3. Another university student who never spoke, looked amazingly nerdy, and was almost entirely covered in St. Paddy's Day green clothing. Even his running shoes.
4. A lady that looked oddly like Allison Kilkenny with makeup and a pointier nose.


So with that kind of crowd, you know you're in a good place.


The thing started off with 2 genius prodigy children playing the 8th movement of Beethoven's Spring Sonata (I've no idea how I remember that). The violinist was 11, and the pianist was 12. The piece could not have been played more perfectly. They had increible emotion, precision, and talent that sounded like it belonged on a CD. Insane. I play piano, and believe me when I say the runs up and down the piano sound incredibly difficult. Such fast playing, and it wasn't just your average scale in C major. And the violin was as fast as that. Amazing. I swear, they're child geniuses.


And then the jury came out. First announced was Stephen Fry, the man himself. The announcer introduced him as "a writer, director, and actor. My personal favourtie work of his are the Harry Potter Audiobooks. Please welcome, Mr. Stephen Fry".
Let me just say, I think Stephen Fry is the epitome of English culture. He wore a suit with a white shirt with a pink grid pattern & a indigo flowery tie. If that isn't characterful*, I don't know what is. 
He's so incredibly English.

The rest of the panel (in order of seating) were film director Atom Egoyan,  Singer/songwriter Dadawa, pianist Gary Graffman, singer Elaine Overholt, producer Phoebe Greenberg, and recording industry executive Costa Pilavachi. The announcer was Paul Hoffert. 

The winner was a fantastic choice: Mr. Leonard Cohen (who I'm also a fan of, so I flailed about quite a bit trying to see where the heck he was). Sadly, Leonard Cohen was at home because he had only been told that he won within the last 2 days, but still, it was an extremely well deserved award, and I was still very happy.

Every member of the panel did a very meaningful speech, all of them comparing the uncompromising style of Leonard Cohen with the incredibly similar fearless style of Glenn Gould.

Stephen Fry joked that he was very disappointed because he though they were awarding the prize to Justin Bieber (he said the word "Bieber" in his very eloquent Engish accent like no one else can. I grinned my face off).  


After the panel was done, I rushed over to the desk where he was signing someone else's books (she had THREE of them... suddenly I felt like a bad fan). Mum urged me to talk to him, or at least pose with him as background. I went to grab my sketchbook for him to sign, but I was too late.
Stephen Fry signing someone else's books

He walked out literally less than a minute after the announcement was over. I ran to follow him but he went through the doors of the dark theatre too soon.
"Will Mr. Fry be coming out again for fans???" I asked the man at the door frantically, but respectfully.
"He's going to be doing press releases. It'll be a while." 
"I told you to get him while you could!!" My Mum gritted her teeth a bit. 
I was just speechless, then finally said "It's my own fault Mum. It's my own fault."


I then came back after 5 minutes to find a new guard at the door. I asked them to find the disappointing reply of "No. He's not coming out again."


I had absolutely nothing to say.

After another couple of minutes, the doors opened to the public. Inside was a fantastically large, gorgeous theatre. I mean, just look at this place. It looked exactly like this.


I walked around the left aisle a bit, staring up at the ceiling, when Mum noticed a lot of people going in and out of the door on the far left directly beside the stage. She immediately could tell something was going on back there, and said "Follow me". 

After going through at least 4 doors and a few white walled rooms with small corridors (one of them containing a very shiny grand piano), Mum heard talking in the first room on the left. She opened the door, and sure enough, there he was. Stephen Fry, standing beside two white clothed tables which supported several bottles of water, a coffee machine, and a tray of mini-muffins.  

Dialogue (cos I want to remember this...):
S.F.: "Oh, hello..."
Me: "I kinda took the day off school to see you..."
S.F.: "NO you didn't! Come here..." And then he grabbed me to the side which I totally wasn't expecting (hence my confused face). 
I was so surprised I actually stumbled sideways...

He then squatted for a photo. Cos I'm just that short. And I hugged him.

Me: "This is so cool. I love QI..." (I wish I would've told him how I also love Blackadder, Stephen Fry in America etc etc.)
My Mum: "Yeah,  when we went to UK to see Tim Minchin, all she wanted to do was watch your show..."
S.F.: "Yeah, Tim's a good guy. ah, so you like that sort of stuff?" *smiles*
Me: "Hi, um... where's the sketchbook?" *Mum gives it to me* 
S.F.: *flips by Jamie Kilstein's message* So your name's Johanna? 
Me: "Julianna... I hear your incredibly kind, so thank you..." *he signs it*
S.F.: "It's a pleasure."
Me: Thank you!!! *I run away gleefully*


So that's pretty much how it went. In extreme detail. 
Julianna xoxoxo


P.S. After writing this, I went to watch Stephen Fry in America again. Can I just say how incredibly happy it just made me to say: "It's a Stephen Fry day..." and then realize TODAY IS ACTUALLY A FRIDAY?!!! *grins face off at the wittiness of this*


* That was an Adam Hills reference, for those of you who weren't sure... I only just found out that it's actually a word.