Survival of the Marathon...

...And on to the holidays.

I have officially made it through my first semester of graduate school and two weeks of exhausting finals and projects mingled with a brutal ailment. Now that I have finished, I await my grades in the new year and move on to the holidays.

I go home tomorrow afternoon with Shannon. We'll see what kind of misadventures we can scrounge up in Rochester for a few days. I'm already through with boredom and for some reason I think I need a slight change of scenes for a few days. Now that I'm not focusing on classes or homework, I feel as though I'm floundering a bit, searching for a sense of purpose.

Maybe I will feel more in the holiday spirit once I get home. It will be nice to see a Christmas Tree again, I'll admit. Although, I'm not really holding out hope for a white Christmas--as wonderful as that would be.

I've kept busy though amidst all the work I've had to do. I've seen a few movies in the past week, Babel and the Queen. I would highly recommend both to anyone. I also went to a wonderful restaurant in Yorkville called Bellinis where I drank Chianti and ate incredible tiramisu and overall felt important in my dress and black heels. Last night's dinner took place at a park with cream cheese, a baguette and salami. While it was a bit cold, it was a relaxing way to enjoy the evening.

I do wish it would cool down and snow though. Get me in the mood a little more. This has been an interesting semester and in just three short months, I've come rather far. I'm used to Canadian money and feel weird every time I see a US dollar. I accomplished a marathon of finals and papers and presentations. I feel as though I've learned heaps more in one semester of graduate school than in four years of classes at SOC. Maybe I just tried harder.

I will miss the busy, bright city lights over the next few weeks. I will replace them with the lights of Rochester and then the noisy streets of New York City around New Years. I had planned on making a trip to DC, but I've decided it will have to wait until February. Timing will be better for everyone I believe.

Happy Holidays to everyone back in the States. I'll be crossing the border tomorrow.

Santa Claus and American Thanksgiving

Between writing a novel this month, finals an exhibition and life, there hasn't been much time to spare. I feel as though I keep trying to get things done, but it never happens.

Last week was American Thanksgiving. I went back home to Rochester and took Shannon with me--so he could compare notes between how Canada and the US do days were we are thankful and then proceed to gorge ourselves on too much turkey. It's a holiday that while I love it, I don't quite understand it. We say our thanks by spending it with people we love. All right, I understand that. But we say our thanks by eating too much food and regretting it later?

That....I don't understand.

But, with the holiday over with and my pants tighter than before, we move on to the Christmas Season. Though it seems that Toronto had moved on by November 1st. The Santa Claus parade took place on Bloor a few weeks ago on a November Sunday. I can't remember the date exactly. But, what I have learned is that this Santa Claus parade is not only WELL OVER A MONTH EARLY, it's like a watered down version of Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Oh Santa. You come earlier every year. While I enjoy the month long Christmas celebration, I have a problem that we start getting ready while we're still wearing shorts and flip flops. Let's not jump ahead of the game. I'm already for Christmas come the day after Thanksgiving, but since Fall is littered with holidays, give each of them some space, okay?

But, my opinion didn't matter and Santa marched anyways. Then I went to Rochester and at turkey and thanked the pilgrims. I think. I'm not sure the holiday is even about thanking the pilgrims anymore. I think it's just about thanking the turkey and spending time with family. Either way, it was a great few days at home.

It ended with a return to Toronto with my mother, Shannon and Fran. We celebrated with nothing other than chicken shawarmas. Now, the semester is nearly over with and I still don't understand milk in bags, but I do understand finals. They are looming over my head in the next few days.

We'll see how I survive. Perhaps Wednesday night I will have to go to the LCBO to celebrate.

What a Week it Has Been

Ben left this morning to head back to the District. Yes, the Ben that I once dated and am now really good friends with. It's strange how those things work out. But it was a hell of a lot of fun with him around for over a week. I did have my final presentation on Wednesday, so between preparing for that and hanging out with Ben and Shannon, things have been hectic.

Thankfully, it's already another weekend. Maybe now I can process the past week and get some sleep in the meantime. I've started my project making Ambrotypes. It's great to be back in the darkroom. Strange though to be doing 19th century processes. Though I have to admit, it's all very exciting.

Last Friday Fran had a party at Molly Bloom's, a pub near U of T. There's nothing better than hanging out with the girls and bringing along Ben and Shannon. I'm really thankful for everyone, because they've made Toronto extremely special.

Sadly, that's only four of the fab 5. Nadia didn't come. And once again, with the nose thing. It's a common occurrence after too much beer. And this week with Ben has been anything but short of beer. There's been Bluegrass music live and bar hoping and making several new friends everywhere and anywhere. I can't forget the climbing several firescapes to get to the roof of the silver dollar on Wednesday night. And the fact that Ben's car did get towed Monday night. I'm almost positive that I'm not doing Ben's trip to Canada any justice. But he left loving Toronto. So I feel as though I've done my job.

I don't have a good picture of Shannon, Ben and I to share (at least according to my own vanity they aren't very good) so this is as good as it gets. Molly Bloom's was a good night. One of many in the past seven. I can't say anything about the Bob Dylan concerts Ben went to, but he sounded as pleased as ever. I'm at no loss for not going. Me and Bob aren't as close as Ben and Bob. He's a bit obsessed. There's no way to have a conversation without Bob Dylan coming up at some point.

I've seen more of Toronto in the past week. And what an interesting week in Canada it has been. Not to mention being part of the strangest group dynamic ever. Three friends. Two used to date. Then the one guy introduces the girl to the other guy. Now the other guy and the girl are together. And they're still all friends.

Hey, I NEVER said my life played by the rules. That would be dull. And this is supposed to be an adventure after all. A Canadian one. That requirement is fulfilled by the massive amount of Timmy's that I've had all week. Ben swore he'd never eat at a Tim Horton's (which are huge in Canada, move over Dunkin Dounuts!), but I think it finally grew on him. We had a final breakfast together before he left this morning.

It was such a good week. And I am so tired, that is exactly what I'm going to leave you with. The fact that Canada has already put up most of their Christmas decorations has me slightly disoriented. It is still November, right?

Humor up in Canada

And life in the fast times. It's getting to that point in the semester where I only have time for work and a social life. Blogging seems to come second. And farther down the line, my NANOWRIMO novel, which with almost a week gone, seems to be lacking in words.

But, I'd rather sit around and contemplate the humor in Canada than write a novel. I find myself coming back to the milk in bags phenomenon. Shannon and I spent several minutes ranting about it one evening in the dairy section of a convenience store. I then received this hysterical cartoon about these milk in bags. And I also went on a rant that night about the price of Ben and Jerrys. Nearly seven dollars a pint! I don't care if that's in Canadian dollars, that's still expensive. But I've learned to appreciate other forms of ice cream just as much--partially because I can get more for cheaper.

My next humorous story has do to with the Toronto Police. While walking through Allen gardens at maybe five in the afternoon with Kat when she was visiting, we saw a man passed out by the sidewalk in the grass. Did I mention his pants were down around his ankles? This appeared to have him unaffected as he snored away. Kat and I then had to promptly jump off the sidewalk as a cop car came pulling up. It stopped next to the sleeping man. Kat and I also ceased walking as this bizarre sight had us transfixed.

The police did not get out of the car. Instead, they pulled out a megaphone and began to say "Sir. Sir, do you know your pants are down? Sir, your pants are down." I promptly began to snicker and the cute, young police officer in the drivers seat turned to us. Of course his window was rolled down and he called, "Hey, either of you ladies looking for a date tonight? I've got one right here."

I shook my head and pushed Kat along, "No thanks, "I began, "I like my dates to be conscious." I am sure I heard him laughing as we walked off. It gave Kat and I a good laugh. Strange things always seem to happen in Toronto.

Case and Point. The other afternoon I am letting Ben and Shannon out of o my apartment. As I am saying goodbye, I go to pull the door closed. This is when I see a little, old, stout lady hobble up to my door. She reaches for it as I pull it shut. So I push it back open. She doesn't even look at me as she tries to push past so I reply, "Can I help you?" This seems to have her unaffected so I say, "I'm sorry this is a private residence. I then pull the door shut on her.

She muttered an almost inaudible, "oh." and then hobbled back off in the direction she came. I caught the confused look of Ben and Shannon. I merely shrugged and waved goodbye. Once again, these strange occurrences I can't quite figure out. Oh, Toronto. And that's about all I can say.

I shall never cease to find the humor and weird in this city. I can't really say I want to. It keeps me on my toes.

Life is Beauty Mingled with Grief

As Friday looms, my thoughts darken slightly. My mind is set on black and carnations and somber moments. Perhaps, not the best place to start an entry, but not all life is joy. While life is a beautiful treasure that I might never full understand, grief is a part of that beauty. I haven't grieved yet, but I am preparing myself for it.

My Aunt Ra passed away last weekend. The strangest thing is that I can still hear her voice in my head though I haven't seen her in months. I mostly remember her from my childhood. I remember the funeral when Uncle Floyd, her husband, passed away. It was the first funeral in my memory. And now, I am preparing for hers. To see my cousin, Kelly, her grand-daughter in hopes that she will be all right. I don't know if I'll cry. Sometimes, when it's the right moment to, I can't seem to find the tears. I stand there looking lost, emotionless in a sea of grieving people. Other times, I am part of that sea--a sniffling, bawling mess of tears and grief. Time will tell. I just know that right now is the time to be in the arms of my family.

It seems a bit hard to pick up and entry after those thoughts. But they are life and though Aunt Ra will be a memory and a spirit to me, time marches on for the rest of us. The only absolutes I think. Time passing and death. But, my week has not been this dark. Aside from the onset of a little fall cold, most of my time has been spent doing the same weekly routine.

I wrote a paper for Don's class Monday. Six hours in front of the computer, telling my story of Collodion. It was two pages longer than necessary. And I was pleased with it. If I can spend one night writing a six page paper, two nights should be enough to write my 10 page paper coming up for David's class.

Tuesday after class I explored Casa Loma with Shannon. It's a castle that was built up on a hill overlooking Toronto. It was built in 1911 for Sir Henry Pellatt. I believe though within 10 years he had hit financial ruin and had to abandon his dream castle. That story was a little depressing. But the castle was rather pretty. It had it's own tower and I admit that my imagination was running away with me. Stories and daydreams. Heros and knights and strong female characters--quite abnormal for the time. But, it was my daydream after all. I thought the castle had beautiful gardens too, even though it was raining as I hiked through them. I do have to admit that I was rather disappointed when I discovered that we had explored the entire castle, but failed to find the tunnel that led to the stables. I missed the stables! Oh, the tragedy. I suppose I will have to go back around Christmas to explore again.

Shawarma Wednesday was completely turned around due to unforseen circumstances. It ended up that Fran and I were the only ones to partake in chicken shawarmas in a strange place across from U of T. It was no La-Zeez. Fran and I were left somewhat unsatisfied, but Shannon didn't seem to know the difference. In the future, the Fab 5 will have to educate him on a truly good shawarma.

The evenings are getting cold and I find myself shivering in my bed every night. This will have to be changed at some point, because I do not like freezing in my sleep. While home this weekend I will have to commandere more winter supplies for my room. To be truly honest, I just want to get home. This week has dragged on and I have only been able to think of my family. Saturday will be very bittersweet. And right now, that is all I really can think about.

The Beach, The Madi and Shawarmas

Due to my laziness, I am a week behind with my adventures. I suppose it's easy to forget to write when things start happening so quickly. Work piles up, people call, leaves fall and time marches on. So I fall behind with writing my stories.

I went to the beach last Friday afternoon with Shannon. The cold rain and wind didn't seem to hinder my desire to go find the water. Probably about 20 minutes by street car and we were near the beach. It was terribly cold after I got wet, but the view was just what I wanted to see of Lake Ontario. The lake was turbulant, covered with white caps all the way out to the horizon. The water was a dark sea-green and mingled with the white foam. The waves broke on the cold sand and dangerous rocks. I climbed those dangerous rocks so I could get a better view.

It was only after Shannon climbed up to join me that a huge wave crashed over the rocks and managed to get us soaked. I secretly didn't mind getting wet, I just liked looking out over the lake and losing myself in my thoughts and memories. It was so beautiful.

After spending an hour or two running around and letting both wind and rain drench us, we decided to warm up with some Kahlua and coffee. By then, the rain and wind ceased, letting the sun peak through just before it set. Perched up on a lifeguard chair we finished our coffees and headed for a rocky point. I wanted to see the view from there.

It was worth the hike. I found rock the looked out over the water to downtown Toronto. You could see all the buildings from the Scotia building to the BMO and even the apartment buildings near my flat--of course not to mention the CN tower, which no matter where you are you can pretty much get a good view of it.

After some pizza it was time to head back on the street car, because I was headed for a girls night out. The fab 5 (Tess, Fran, Ali, Nadia and myself) went to the Madi pub for some drinks and conversation. A bunch of Fran's friends from U of T joined the group and we stayed until close. It was a lot of fun, mostly because when everyone got drunk, things got interesting. Fran became more awkward, Tess loved her tequila and Ali made a serious a curious hand guestures that have stuck with us ever since.

You couldn't ask for a better evening. It ended with us singing as we left the Madi and then eating pizza. I think most everyone at Pizza Pizza was probably drunk. But it was still a lot of fun. I ended up staying with Tess since it was after 3am. I promptly spent time smothering her cat, Marlie with kisses and snuggles. He was a good sport and never squirmed as I probably held him a little too tightly.

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully at home. But, this brings us to shawarmas. The fab 5 has made a Shawarma Wednesday. After David's Research Methods class we seem to find ourselves in need of a pick-me-up. So, we find ourselves at La-Zeez for chicken shawarmas. Fran and I think they are just about the greatest thing in the world. And since every time we go in we get a falafel from a man who works there. We have dubbed him our "father." And have begun a new tradition. He also gave us free chocolate as we left the store.

So things are going well. I managed to channel Ingrid Bergman in my Robert Capa presentation--Capa and Ingrid had a love affair together. But, I feel as though I did all right. I can't wait until my last one is done. But in three weeks, I'll have my wish.

Meanwhile, the leaves are changing colours and falling. My mother is coming up tomorrow. So, it's back to life and back to my current weekend.

The First Snowflakes and Some Life Lessons

Today Toronto had its first flurries. I was walking home and then suddenly these beautiful white flakes enveloped me. I actually danced a little with my ipod playing. I'm almost positive I'll get sick of snow within a few months, but it was still a welcomed treat. Although, I'm hoping that there will still be time to enjoy the smells and sights of fall. I'm really enjoying the foliage.

Still, it's a shock to me to see snow this early in October. I know it didn't stick, but still. I wasn't wearing my winter jacket! Of course by now I've dug it from the closet. And it's on its peg near my boots.

My mother has finally gotten a job. Ironically with a company based in Canada. Not far from Toronto. I still think it's almost too perfect how life manages to intertwine itself in some way. Either way, I'm happy for her. She deserves this. So I wish her the best in her new beginning.

I've learned that the advice that makes you angriest and hurts the most, is probably the best advice for you. It's because you can't bear to believe the self-destructive path you're on is the wrong one. And because it takes so much strength to change it--after so many years of the same vicious cycle. How do you finally stand your ground?

I know I'm guilty of running away when I get scared or vulnerable or trapped. I know that in some way coming here to Toronto just wasn't a new beginning, but a way to run. In the end, I feel I made peace with as much of my past as I could, but I can't help feeling that coming here was an escape.

Maybe it was. Maybe it was the right thing to do. Only time will tell. But have learned this much, no matter how hard it gets here--and it will, I've already had my moments--I can't give up. I cannot run away. For once in my life, I need to stand strong. I've spent so much time trying to fight fears in my life--fear of heights, fear of falling, fear of nakedness, fear of swimming, fear of failure--that this is just another fear I have to fight. I've worked so hard for this adventure; I can't possibly back down the first time I get scared. I can't.

I need to put my money where my preaching is. And stand up. And stay. Because I know that this program and Toronto are the best things to ever happen to me. And a direct result of some of the greatest things that ever happened to me. So maybe I'll take the advice that hurt so bad. Because I want to define myself up here, eh. Not to prove that the woman I am capable of being is not the woman I am going to become.

Because I refuse to give up like that. So I'm standing, in the first snowfall, proving to myself that I'm not running this time, eh.

Thanksgiving. Canadian Style.

I go with no posts for a while and then spring them on you all at once. I'm like that. Happy Thanksgiving. I figured today I'd relax and do some housekeeping--this, of course, includes blogging. I have had an eventful week since Kat left.

I'll start with the Tuesday trip to the George Eastman House in Rochester, NY. Of course, we all know that George is the founder of Kodak and his house is now a major museum for photography and film. And huge into conservation. And with a large archive. If you didn't know, now you do. So we got to go into a special viewing room and basically stare for five hours at photographs that most people would be lucky to see behind glass for $10 dollars in their lifetime.

It was an incredible experience to say the least. I saw an original Matthew Brady daguerreotype. Along with two original Hill and Adamson salted paper prints that date back to 1845. Not to mention original O'Sullivan, Weston, Barnard, Baldus, Atget, Stieglitz, Cameron and Marville. Maybe you only know one or two names or none, but they are really well know to most photographers. Especially those who study the history. It was 14 hours of photography goodness. These are the days that get me more and more excited about the field I am going into.

Wednesday was my presentation. I'd hardly slept before, I was so busy preparing after getting back from Rochester. It went all right, but I thought I was going to poke my eyes out after sitting in class for over 4 hours. I then went with the Fab 5 (myself, Fran, Tess, Ali and Nadia) to get shawarmas. I napped until Shannon showed up and my house to drink my day away with some wine.

That turned into a long night and then I couldn't sleep at all. I stumbled out of bed by 9:30am and seemed unable to do much. This made Mike's class all the more hard for me. And I was so excited because we did calotypes, ambrotypes and collodion prints. I will say now that I think ambrotypes are one of my most favorite processes from the 19th century. Even more so than the daguerreotype, which is still like watching a magic trick.

This leads up to movie night Friday with the Parliament House family where Squash Matt (I live with two) rented Inside Man. It was a nice quiet family evening.

Saturday I went to the AGO with Shannon where we saw the Andy Warhol exhibit. I was pretty impressed with the curation of the exhibit. Except for one large error and that was mixing up the paneling of this one diptych. While listening to the handheld audio tour, he noticed that they mentioned the blank red panel was on the right side. Now, I mix my right and left up too sometimes, but clearly, it was on the left and not the right. Somebody wasn't paying any attention.

I also managed to learn a lot about Warhol. I didn't know he was gay or that anyone attempted to assassinate him. I also learned he was pretty obsessed with the idea that death made people celebrities and how being a celebrity was like death and just death in general. Including his own. And he wore wigs. He like 12 of them. Who knew? So, I enjoyed myself.

I then proceeded to ignore my hunger and drink a cafe mocha. Then we sat around talking until we both got the shakes and had to go home to find food or else pass out. I'm so irresponsible when it comes to coffee.

After dinner, Granville, Squash Matt and I take a trip to buy some alcohol at the Beer Store. Greatest invention in the world. You stare at a huge wall with prices of different kinds of beer, you order the beer and then your beer comes out on a conveyer belt of sorts. Brilliant.

Shannon came back over just as we were drinking and watching Legally Blond. My roommates have taste. Then we wandered over to an Irish pub for a pint or two, just to get out the house and have a little fun. Which we managed to. Until later that night when Shannon dropped me on my head. So then, I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night--just in case it was a concussion. Wtf.

So Sunday, sleep deprived and all I cook Thanksgiving dinner. I had maybe two hours of sleep. Then I cooked for six hours. Turkey, stuffing, pumpkin and apple pie, potatoes, squash and homemade whip cream. It was awesome. The entire house helped me cook, prep and clean up. And it tasted amazing. Tess also came over to help and eat. The Parliament Family managed to polish off most of the food, including two pies by Monday (which is the actually Thanksgiving, but who's counting).

After dinner and pie, I pretty much just passed out. There was no way I was going to keep my eyes open. Not after so much cooking and such a good meal. But I loved it. Even when the pie crust kept giving me a hard time. We have so many leftover apples, I'm going to make another pie. If anyone's around in Toronto that seems a little hungry for pie. Otherwise, leave it to Granville and Squash Matt to eat it all. We all toasted to the holiday with our thanks for the Parliament House--and for Tess.

And in closing, since it is Thanksgiving, I guess I'll be cliche and say the things I'm thankful for here in Toronto--especially since I was bummed this morning to find out my car is officially gone. I'm thankful for the Parliament House Family, the Fab 5, the PPCM program, art and more art, the Toronto skyline, Smarties, Shannon (since he doesn't have a group), Tim Hortons, warm boots, street cars, lots of coffee, the Beer Store and city lights, eh.

And they call New York the city that never sleeps...

...but this Saturday, it was Toronto, the host of "Nuit Blanche" an all night, city-wide art experience. 140 different sites, food, music, art, art and more art. And did I mention free chocolate? It was originally started in Paris and Toronto sort of just picked up the idea. The rain and cold weather only slightly dampened the fun (and made it good for jumping in puddles) but it was the best evening to be had for fun. And how perfect that Kat was here for it. This event became more or less Part One of her trip to Toronto.

Of course any cold and rainy even must start with a pub visit. Of course, after going to get Shannon (the Australian), our pub visit lasted over three hours. But since the "dynamic duo" were back again, we had to make the best of the situation and tell the most embarrassing stories of each other. But once we'd drained our last pints, we'd decided since the rain had stopped, we'd go out in search of art.

I'm not sure what I liked best. Galleries had their doors open all around town and we wandered in and out staring at several different paintings and had tea. We also ran around U of T seeing screenings at pools and playing around the fog at Philosophers Walk. Where some guy (probably more drunk than us) ran, tripped over the fog machines and went tumbling down the hill. It was as rude as it was funny. And it was pretty funny. There were lots of screenings in the street and some exhibits around. I remember there was someone who put up these panels of people who emailed him artwork and little things. It was really cool.

There was this light up dance floor where Kat and I decided to dance. Shannon stood off all by his lonesome self. We also saw a lot of performance art. There was this long table with beautiful cakes and a woman in Victorian clothes. They were sitting there eating cake for 12 hours. It was all about city opulance and excessiveness. Ouch.

There were also random dancers that dressed as police officers. They hopped out of cars, danced the tango, got back in and drove off. It was brilliant. We saw it probably two or three times. For a while, we hung out at OCAD where there were games and food and we could sit down and stay dry. That's really what counted as it started to rain again.

I also learned what poutine is. Apparently it's like cheese curds and gravy. Canadians like it on their fries. I haven't tried it yet, but when I finally do, I will be sure to share with you if it's any good and exactly what it takes like.

Shannon walked Kat and I home by 6:30am where Kat and I sat up and chatted before passing out sometime after 7am. It was long day for the both of us. Day 2 was spent mostly sleeping and hanging out with my roommates. But finally we got up to grab food at the Eaton Centre (where I had wannabe Chipotle....how I miss you) and then we headed to the CN tower.

It was dark out, so it was amazing to see the city. I was so impressed with how beautiful the city looked. It was fun to just look around and take pictures. I looked down at the buildings and cars and realized that I was a part of the city now. A part of these people's lives in some way. It's incredible to think of it when you're standing up so high and staring down on little buildings. They had once enveloped you and looked so huge and now they are so small. I realized that I belong in Toronto and once again, no matter where I go, I've found myself home.

I'm happy that Kat could be here to see it. I'm just a small girl, with big city dreams. And from up there, anything seemed possible. And my independence saw where it's wings had taken me. I have fought and struggled so hard to get it and it was an affirmation that I've done it all right in the end. More importantly, it proved that I can get the better of my fears.

Monday brought class and then it was time to take Kat to the airport. Sadly, we were delayed on our subway train at the Jane stop. And do you know why? Apparently there was some medical emergency that warrented a 30 minute delay. No one was even carried off in a stretcher. Some emergency. I got Kat on the 192 bus and headed back home. She called me a little later and said she'd missed check in for her flight so they had to put her on a later one. I felt so bad. But of course, it was just another story in our adventure. I missed our adventures. I was happy to have another weekend of them. That meant everything to me.

It made me miss DC in a way. But Kat told me she was happy to see the life I've made for me. There's class that I love--photography is why I get up every morning--and the girls I hang out with who I call the Fab 5. Then there's my roommates who I adore and we have become the Parliament House Family--we drink together, eat together and watch TV together. And then there's even Shannon, who I can count on to go enjoy art with me and get me drunk when I have a shitty day. And so I have an Australian accent to listen to since I no longer have Saturdays at the Equipment Room.

So this weekend has been a success. And now it's on to my week filled with presentations, the George Eastman House and of course the upcoming Canadian Thanksgiving.

Making a Daguerreotype

"A good daguerreotype was as perfect a kind of photograph as was ever made." ~Edward Steichen

The most incredible thing happened today, we made daguerreotypes. The real things. We actually did it according to the 1839 instructions by Daguerre himself. If you're not a photographer at all, watching this process will make you one. I understand and know the chemistry behind it, but it still feels like magic when it happens.

Our professor, Mike, is the sole daguerreotypist in all of Canada. So he's an authority on this subject. He showed us Daguerre's method for making a daguerreotype. I'll retell it here, because it really is magic. First, you need to take a copper plate that is coated in silver. It's really made by taking silver and copper metals and rolling them together several times until you get a bonded, thin plate.

The plate (silver side up of course) is polished with pumice powder and olive oil. Pressure is applied using a rag to polish the surface. After doing that a few times, the plate is rinsed with a spray of 0.5% of nitric acid and then wiped off. Then it's done again until the surface is extremely shiny. This gets out any chemical impurities. When it's ready, the plate is buffed with a velvet pad and then checked for dust. Sadly, this process takes about 20 minutes and usually induces sweating.

Next, the plate is put silver side down, in a special box. Then it is exposed to iodine vapors. This is the halogen the sensitizes the plate. It turns the silver to Silver Iodide, which is the light sensitive substance. After about 30 seconds, the plate is checked to make sure it is a dark yellow. Then, it is taken in a darkroom with the safelights on, exposed for 10 more seconds and then put in the film holder.

The exposure was 20 minutes at about f16 of the street. It was a landscape and while that was taking we heated up the mercury vapor to 158 degrees to get the right saturation of mercury. Mercury is what will act as a developer for the plate.

When the twenty minutes is up, the cover is returned on the film holder and the case is taken into the darkroom where it the plate is removed and put in the mercury bath. The plate will sit in the mercury bath for another 20 minutes until fully developed.

After developing the plate is put in a tray and sodium thiosulphate (or thiosulfate, depending the country you are in) is poured evenly over the plate. This is the fixer and only has to react with the plate for maybe a minute. Then the fixer is poured out and several rinses of distilled water are poured over the plate and agitated.

After the plate is rinsed, it is gripped with pliers and held over an alcohol lamp. The lamp is moved back and forth along the back of the plate, drying off the remaining water.

And like magic, over and hour later, you have a 1839 daguerreotype. It really was magic. What was even more incredible about today is that I got to touch polished, unused daguerreotype plates that belong to Southworth and Hawes. I was practically shaking it was so unbelievable. Those two owned an upscale studio in Boston during the height of the daguerreotype. They are considered masters of the craft and if you ever see a Southworth and Hawes, you will understand. Making a daguerreotype is hard.

The process we learned today was just the first official version of the daguerreotype. Within the next 10-14 years, during the golden years of the daguerreotype, the process was changed and complicated. New halogens were added, galvanizing, guilding, toning, coloring and other changes were implemented to improve the tonal quality and shorten exposure time. It's mind boggling how many different variations there are to the daguerreotype.

Yet, no matter how it is made, the daguerreotype is incredible. It was like watching the 19th century come alive in that studio. Both chemistry and a magic trick. I can only imagine what 1839 must have been like when people saw a daguerreotype for the first time. I love our past, it makes me proud. There's something inspiring in the things we invent, triumph over, create or the way things change life forever.

Part of knowing where we're going is knowing where we came from. And to think, I'm going to have a part of preserving that past for our future. It's a pretty powerful feeling.

Fall in the City

"Canada is a country whose main exports are hockey players and cold fronts. Our main imports are baseball players and acid rain." ~Pierre E. Trudeau

Fall has arrived and with that hockey pre-season. Now I am starting to understand the Canadian obsession with hockey. It's everywhere. In other news, I finally got the hang of the subway and street cars. The buses will have to come at a later date, but shouldn't be that bad. It's just hard to find the street car stops because they don't do a very good job of marking them. And in the rain, it's rather easy to walk right by them.

Canadian TV commercials, to put it bluntly, are just strange. They are either ridiculous jingles (such as the Cadbury commercial jingle set to a Beach Boys song) to the "milk rap" to the Sunsilk hair commercials that take place in a women's room where three girls talk about sex and almost nothing about hair. I haven't quick gotten used to how odd they are.

I'm eating Smarties at the moment. Not the sugary-sweet candy in the States, but the kind you find in places like Britain. They are the chocolate candies that sort of want to be M&Ms but have a different taste. I think they're good. In fact, I haven't seen a Snickers in a while. Instead Canadians have lots of Cadbury candy, Smarties, Aero bars, Coffee Crisp and Bounty. I actually have to admit I prefer this candy to the candy in the States. I can't tell you why and I have a terrible sweet tooth. Thumbs up for Canadian tasty treats.

Canada has also launched a major "Peanut Free" campaign for candy, granola bars and other things that used to say "may contain peanuts" on the packaging. They're trying to make things more "friendly" for the people with peanut allergies. So the package of my Smarties read "Peanut Free" and "Sans arachides."

Best Buy just had a Grand Opening two weeks ago. So, they hosted artists in Dundas Square for free concerts. I went to the John Mayer concert that Saturday with girls from my program. He was awesome. And it was free.

I admit, I have a lot on my plate this week, including an interview, but I'm just excited to get it done so I can have Kat come visit this weekend. I am so excited! My first visitor here in the True North. I hope I can show her just what a great city Toronto has been so far.

And to take to her to her first on-campus pub. Because American University was a dry campus there wasn't a pub, but Ryerson isn't. And aside from eating "street meat" on campus (aka: hot dog vendors) there's a cool pub the boast cheap eats, beer and pool. It's nice to have a place to hang out that's not the Tavern at AU. The only downfall, Toronto is colder than DC ever was.

Sacrifices had to be made. I've got my winter boots ready.

These Dirty Feet Were Worth it

So, today began the exciting adventure of exploring Toronto. Let me start by saying that I must have walked about 10km today. Maybe that's an exaggeration, but my feet certainly feel it. They have also collected half of the dirt in the city, which is a little bit gross. I look forward to washing them when I complete this entry.

I spent most of the day exploring the Harbourfront. I also road my very first streetcar. It was enjoyable, though I find Toronto's subway system much less user-friendly than DC's and that saddens me a little. It also makes me look like an idiot when I walk in circles.

I actually spent the day exploring the Harbourfront with an Australian friend of Ben's. Turns out him and I come from 12,000 miles from each other and happen to be studying in the same Canadian city at the same time. So, we took it as an opportunity to explore a new city together.

Wouldn't you know that in the first five minutes of being at the harbour I find a tall ship? The 'Empire Sandy' is her name. And she's beautiful. I know all of my friends who've sailed with me have to agree. It was nice to stand by the water for a while and walk along the docks. It felt a little bit like being back at the Marina.















I think Toronto has a beautiful waterfront. It's just hidden past the Gardiner Parkway, which is a little daunting. They even rent sailboats down at Queen's Quay! Perhaps, I will have to get a crew together and go sailing in the spring.















We also walked over the famous footbridge from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding." Yes, the film takes place in Chicago, but it was filmed in Toronto.




















After a late lunch at the Duke of Richmond pub, we headed over to the Skydome, now called Rodger Centre. It will always be the Skydome to me. But I digress. The Blue Jays played the Devil Rays and in an exciting ninth inning managed to tie the Devil Rays 3-3. I thought in the tenth inning it was over the Jays when the Rays scored another run. But the Jays scored the only homerun of the game that brought the score to 5-4. It was incredible, the Jays actually won.

I have to admit, I really got into it after awhile. You know me, screaming, shouting at the players. I get excited easily. But it was pretty incredible to look up and see the CN tower.
















I managed to stumble home feeling pretty content. I have a new-found love for this city. I'm starting to feel at home here. I promise that once my room is cleaned up tomorrow, I'll take pictures of the apartment. The new Matt is still moving in so the place is still a little torn up.

This is a city full of beauty in some unlikely places. I could spend all day just watching people or walking through neighbourhoods. There's just something about Toronto that has me excited. Maybe it's the people I meet, or the places I go. It could even be the small differences that make me feel intrigued. But that's for another entry. Toronto has the height of NY, the waterfront of Chicago, the nostaglia of DC and a sound all it's own.


Were my dirty aching feet worth it?

If I Were at a Canadian Spelling Bee...

I would spell things the British way. Seriously. Lots of extra "u"s and "e"s. Words that I find spelled like the Brits are:

• chequing
• centre
• theatre
• harbourfront
• programme

And so on. That ought to excite all my anglofile friends out there. Everything is also in French and English. So sometimes, I confuse myself for trying to read the French side as English. This is not advised as it won't help very much.

I'm standing in line at Financial Aid today and someone asked me if the line was for OSAP. I said I didn't know. OSAP is Ontario aid and scholarships of sorts. I am clearly not eligible, but I explained I had forms to hand in for international loans. So the guy asked where I was from. And I said the US and blushed. It feels strange to say international, but yet I'm a three hour drive from Toronto. Yet, he smiled and nodded.

Another confusing aspect of Canadian culture everyone in the States calls "Native Americans" Canadians call "Aboriginals" or "Natives." Well, every time I hear or read Aboriginal, I think of Australia. And it's taken me a while to be able to differentiate the two. I still think boomerangs and kangaroos when I hear it.

And that's about that. I had Research Methods today, a class that promises to be intimidating. I'm headed to the harbourfront this Friday and to a Jays game. I promise to have my camera fully functional by then--after all, all words and no pictures are rather boring.

With my life coming together up North and the rain still coming down, it's time for some Canadian programmes and reading. I'm taking things slow here, eh.

They Have Curling, but They Don't Have Beer Pong

It appears that the popular college fraternity and sorority sport of beer pong is a "States" thing. I, myself am not very good at the sport or care for it too much, other than the fact people seem to get better the more they drink. And considering how much hand-eye coordination the game takes, I find it a little puzzling. But, as I learned last night, many Canadians have only participated in the sport if they went to college in the US, like one of my roommates.

They have curling, which involves ice and brooms, but they don't have a sport that involves beer and ping pong balls. This from the country with beer that has a higher alcoholic content than in the US. Yes, you will get drunk faster off Canadian beer. I have yet to try this, so I can offer you no proof so far.

With the Toronto Film Festival, everyone is talking about star sightings. This is a new phenomenon as in the District, we merely got excited about polititans. And to be honest, they aren't that exciting. But, I'm suddenly caught up in the craze. I'm happy to report that as a big Degrassi: TNG fan (go look it up if you don't know, it's a Canadian show filmed in Toronto) I actually saw a kid from it last night on my way to Food Basics (a cheap grocery store). I was confused at first how I knew him until I heard his voice. He only had a few minor roles as a friend to Liberty's brother, but still, I was excited.

Not to mention, I've discovered the location of Degrassi Street in Toronto and am proud to report it exists--for the small number of you that would care.

Daily, I find more about Canada that I love, and more that proves I'm really somplace new. After all, they don't watch American Idol, they watch Canadian Idol. They don't eat Mac 'n Cheese, they eat KD. They don't have gallon jugs of milk, they have milk in bags. No joke.

Somedays I think Canada is more European than "American" or "States-ish" as I call it now. After all, they have the Queen on the back of their coins.

Greetings from Across an International Border

So finally, the long-awaited adventure has begun. I'm sorry it took me so long to finally get here, but life seems to be going in fast forward. As I walked to school Wednesday morning, I saw the CN tower and it affirmed the reality...I'm in Toronto, Canada. I don't even know where to begin; I've forgotten where the beginning really is.

So far, starting over a second time has proved easier and far more frustrating--as much of an oxymoron as it is. I believe moving internationally has something to do with it. Yes, I've come here to prove Canada is a different country from the US. Since I've grown up with Canada as my closest neighbor--yes closer than any other US state-- I feel I came knowing more than some others. So for a quick recap of the few things I came knowing:

1. Canada is on the metric system (however, you still find most things in feet at stores, especially when it applies to housewares)
2. They have 1 dollar and 2 dollar coins -- a "Loonie" = 1 dollar and a "Two-nie" is 2 dollars
3. "Eh" is a common form of speech and they do pronounce "o" differently...Which explains why we say "aboot" when we talk "Canadian"

But there's plenty of things I had no idea about. Which, if you're from the US and think Canada is just a large 51st state: you're completely wrong. First of all, when applying for a bank account, I immediately got a bank card. Strange, in the US you wait for days to get it.

There is also a store in Toronto called "Canadian Tire," but it sells anything but tires. It's actually like a housewares store and a sporting goods store in one. And I have yet to see tires there other than ones on bikes. It sort of reminded me of the Christmas Tree Shops in New England.

Something else that I have yet to understand is why at some grocery stores they charge 5 cents for bags. My suggestion? Bring your own bags to the store. It was a little embarrassing to carry home toilet paper, granola bars and water without a bag.

I live in Old Cabbagetown. The basic history of my area is that it was one of the poorest areas of Toronto when most of the immigrants were Irish. They grew cabbages in their front yard because that's all they could afford. Now, it's known for it's old Victorian homes and high (in the words explained to me by Canadians) "brown" population. Though I hate putting it that way, it feels wrong. But, I'm merely restating what was earlier said to me--to be fair.

My roommates are extremely diverse. There are four of them. Three of them are Canadian and male, the other one is a girl from Tanzania. They are all really different people and living with guys is certainly a change from before, especially since I share a bathroom with them. And we all know that I have a tendency to be a clean freak. But with fascinating roommates, I should be in for some fun. Not to mention, I'm the only one from the States, how amazing is that? Yeah, only a rare few get excited to be in the minority. I just feel as though I will learn a lot from them.

And lastly, my program. Canadian schools don't baby their students, so I'm finding out a lot of stuff I have to do on my own. Like enrolling in health insurance (yay for socialism and universal healthcare) or financial aid (which apparently is available). All I can say is, I'm feeling my way blindly through a cave with nothing more than a small stick. And that's the frustrating part, trying to get aid before it's too late and even more importantly trying to get money for my rent.

Side note: the frustrating part is it takes 20 days for US checks to clear. And it's a pain in the ass to wire money. So, we've had to settle for wiring money. Though it's costly. There was also and issue with cellphones and I had to change providers to get a North American plan. Canadian cell plans suck for any long distance calling. US plans suck for roaming charges. It was hard to get what I want. And to think, I live THREE HOURS away. I could almost use smoke signals.

Back to school. I've only been to one class, Historical Processes and it promises to be a lot of work. But I'm excited to go in depth to photography in a way I've only barely touched on before. To better understand theory and social context, to understand deterioration and cataloging collections and even the chemistry behind the conservation of photographs. It all seems new and exciting right now.

But that's the thing about photography it's both a science and an art. So, in the end I never have to sacrifice what I love.

Like Toronto, it's near home, but it's another country away.

The Official Dates

Today my first packet from Ryerson University came. With plenty of information of the upcoming year and about our orientation. It will all begin on September 6th, 2006. For the first time since getting my acceptance letter, I am nervous about going.

I'm about to start at square one, not knowing anyone or where to go or what to expect. Everything is going to be so unknown to me. But I'm ready to redefine my comfort zone. I would rather live life than live in fear of what I don't know or understand.

This is my chance to prove I am strong enough to step out on my own. Once again.

The District, Graduation and a first glimpse at Toronto

"It is the journey that matters in the end." ~Ursula LeGuin

And so I have said goodbye to four years of my life.
















So, Hye-Jin (my other half) and I decided to make a trip to the FDR to talk and say goodbye. She's never been and I hadn't been in a very long time.

It was a beautiful night and I said my goodbyes to the District and turned my head towards the next morning: graduation.














I don't remember much of graduation. I was in shock. But it felt surreal-- I knew it was coming but four years seemed an eternity away. It's funny how fast it really goes.

Proud AU graduates in Bender Arena. School of International Service and School of Communication (go SOC...that's my school) in attendance.

My two brothers and my brother's girlfriend flew in for the day. It felt good knowing my family was there to cheer me on. I'm the first of the three of us to graduate college. So it's a big deal for my family.

My ROOMIE! My old roomie, at least. One last ridiculous picture for old times sake now that we're "adults." And now after four years together, our paths have parted. She is to remain behind in DC to find a job and I am going back to school to learn more. And put myself into debt more.

Trust me when I say I feel, keenly, the people and things I have left behind. Without realizing it, DC truly became home this year. And in turn, I get up and leave...

For Toronto. After being in Rochester, NY for only one day, I'm back to traveling. This time, to Toronto, the place of my future, the place where this blog is supposed to begin.

And so, I will begin by admitting that I love Canada already. The Canadians are truly friendly--I met a few at a bar the night we were there. They really do have awesome accents, "about" is said "aboot" and they are all about the Toronto Maple Leafs. So far, I find Toronto metropolitan and laid-back, friendly version of New York City--cleaner too according to them.

One day out of DC and already into Toronto. I'm ready for the city life again, for the busy streets, the bright lights and people everywhere. It's a place where you never feel alone and it feels warm and welcoming, unlike most cities. The District often had a feeling of loneliness and isolation in a sea of greedy people, but Toronto feels nothing like it. Perhaps going up to the True North this year will soften the cynicism I've acquired over the years. I'm hoping to work out my place in the art scene and even in the world.

I know that I will thrive in Toronto. I already feel it. But since summer is here, Toronto seems miles away and I'm living for the moment--for those endless summer nights. I've learned to live for the moment now, to enjoy without stressing too much about the burdens of the future, because it won't stop them coming and it will spoil the day in front of me. So, until August 1st, I am not worrying about Toronto or the things to come. But know that soon they will come and I will be ready.

Note: I started this entry at the end of May, but didn't finish it until July 10th. My summer is alive, well and in full swing. I'm working at a marina and loving life by the water. I meet several Canadians a week and many of them from Toronto. They have given me advice, encouragement and congratulations. Even from far away, they seem ready to welcome me to their country.

A new beginning from an end...

I am less than three weeks away from my graduation from American University. I'll admit that I'm a mix of emotions--from excitment, to fear, to the realization that this is the last time I will do this or that. I was in an elevator the other day and I suddenly realized that soon I'll never step foot in that elevator; I easily recalled the many memories from it. It's a scary feeling to leave behind something that was such a strong part of your life for four years.

But as I leave American University, I have a new beginning. I'm going to start in the Fall as a graduate student at Ryerson University. That's in Toronto, Canada for your information. I'll be spending a year there and a year in my hometown of Rochester, NY studying photographic preservation and collections management. And as I move north of the US and Washington, DC I want to share with everyone my adventures and trials from Toronto.

I haven't been to Toronto for more than a day since I was six and I want the chance to maybe change everyone's minds about Canada--I want to prove to all those "hosers" or non-believers out there that Canada has a rich and exciting culture all it's own. I also promise to include photographs to enhance the experience--I am a photographer, after all.

So stay tuned, I'll be visiting Ryerson University this summer, finding housing, getting my schedule and come September I promise to share all of my stories with you. I thank American University, Washington DC and everyone I have meet here for an incredible four years filled with ups and downs and I hope that Ryerson University and Canada bring another two memorable years.

"Oh Canada, we stand on guard for thee"