Day to Day @livinglaurenn - Tumblr Blog

Tune for the day.

THINGS ARE HAPPENING

Tuesday, February 7, 2017. 9:58 am.

I have brewed myself a coffee, gotten a head start on my morning at the gym, and I am feeling good.

So … lately, I’ve been having this feeling … this feeling that good things are happening.

To put it simply, opportunities present themselves when you’re least expecting them.

I have been feeling incredibly inspired lately, and for what reason, I can’t exactly say. I guess that’s the thing about inspiration—it comes and goes and you can’t control when.

Lately, my mind has been all over the map. On this blog, on my schooling, on my future schooling, on my friends, on my family, and everything else in between. I sometimes find myself overwhelmed by all that I think about in a day. I sometimes worry that I am not thinking ahead enough, to grad school? To teacher’s college? Who knows. I mean, for the most part, I have a pretty steady handle on where I am and where I want to go. But what about when I’m not sure? What about when I feel anxious and worried and feel like everything is piling up at once and I can’t figure out where to start?

…

That is what I have been trying to work on. Staying calm about my school work, getting one thing done at a time—because that’s all you can do. To be honest, I’ve always been pretty good at managing my school work with my sanity. I’m the one to get a few extra hours of sleep over a few extra hours of studying, because I know that in the long run, that is what works better for me.

Something I’m not so good at, and that I’m really trying to work on, is staying in a positive mood, no matter how bored, annoyed, or frustrated I may feel.

Recently, I’ve been making the conscious effort to take a few steps back every time I find my mind wandering toward negative thoughts. Whether the matter is trivial, or more significant, I tell myself to stop, think about how I’m feeling, in attempt to eliminate the negativity altogether.

For example—yesterday I was in a class of mine that I don’t enjoy. I dread going to this class simply because I don’t like it. It’s as simple as that. I don’t enjoy the material and I don’t enjoy the setting … the list goes on and on.

So, in this class I often find myself thinking, “this is so boring,” or “oh my god, there’s still half an hour?” Yesterday when I caught myself thinking these thoughts, I stopped, perked up, and tried to turn my negative thoughts around and think positively. I then thought, “I’m lucky to be in this class. It’s a privilege to be attending a world-class university and it’s a privilege to have the opportunity to pursue my education in a post-secondary institution.”

By simply making this change in direction of thought (or perspective rather), I shook off my negativity, and began engaging better with the lecture. All it took was a change in perspective, and suddenly I was no longer bored in the lecture, but thankful to be there.

In this class, there is a student who is developmentally challenged. He cannot walk (he has a motorized wheelchair), and he can barely speak (he has a translator), yet he attends class every day, willing more than anyone else in the room to participate and actively engage with the lecture. Without a doubt, he is the person that answers and asks the most questions each lecture, while the rest of the students sit silently, several definitely thinking about how “bored” they are.

When lecture was over, my friend and I were getting up to leave, and we both murmured some comment about how we “didn’t want to have to walk home.” We both agreed that yes, the weather sucked, yes, it was getting dark out, and yes, it would suck to have to walk home.

As we left the classroom, I couldn’t believe what we had just said. I couldn’t believe that we were seriously complaining about walking home, when there was a student in that very same classroom who cannot walk at all. I paused, and shared my thoughts with my friend, and we both realized how stupid our complaints were.

Now I know this doesn’t say anything about my friend and I, because I know that neither of us had malicious intent in our comments. We are both incredibly thankful, reasonable, genuine people, and what we said was not said with poor intention. The phrase was simply uttered out of habit. Habit. How sad that complaining has become a habit? We didn’t even catch ourselves until afterwards.

I am merely sharing this anecdote as a reminder to watch what you say, where you say it, and more importantly, why.

This is where positive thinking comes into play.

Upon my conscious effort to start thinking more positively, I guess you could call this experience an epiphany of sorts. Next time you find yourself ready to complain—don’t. Next time you find yourself bored in lecture—remind yourself you are there for a reason and that learning is a privilege. Next time you are running on the treadmill and can’t wait to get off—thank yourself for your bodily ability and for your strength. It’s not something everyone has.

…

Looking back at the start of this post, I realize now how off-track I have gotten.

(Think positive!) Right. Who cares if I have gotten off track? I’m clearly following the direction of my thoughts, and this is where they have taken me.

This post is something I wanted to write nonetheless. I actually have a pink post-it note with a few things that I want to write about soon. I just have to remind myself to find the time to write for me. It’s some of the most therapeutic stuff out there.

Thank you for reading, and remember to think positive.

See how much it can change your outlook on life.

MADE MY NIGHT

Thursday, January 12, 2016. 11:18 pm.

You know what I find? I find that things happen to me and I immediately think to myself “that would make a good blog post.” Some things that happen to me just encourage me to write and, that having been said, I often don’t. Often it's that I can’t find the time, and before long, the inspiration is gone. I hate to admit it, but hey, it happens to the best of us.

About a week ago now, I had an experience that I felt was worth writing about, and though I’m just getting around to it now, it still feels good to write about.

The winter break has just finished, and I have just returned back to school after being home for about a month. It’s so nice to be home; I will always be a homebody. Seeing all of my friends from high school and even those from elementary just brings on a sense of nostalgia that can’t be put into words. It’s the familiar faces, the familiar places, the familiar smells and sounds of home that make it so great. I will forever be thankful to love going home.

So, back at home, there are not many places to go out. There are two (maybe three) bars that most students go back to when they’re home, and just like the rest, I often find myself there at least a few times each break.

So, one Friday night, the last one before heading back to school, my friends and I decided to attend one of these bars. Beers and laughs were had, and everyone was having a good time.

I was standing at the bar when I casually gaze around while waiting for my drink. I do an almost seamless panoramic scan of the room, and I find myself suddenly turning my head back to where I had just glanced over.

A familiar face.

A face I had not seen in years.

I take a closer look, and immediately recognize the face. The face I have known for 15 years of my life.

It’s one of my friends that I have known since kindergarten, one who I have known since I was just 5 years old, though one I had not seen in at least 6 years. We had known each other all through elementary, but when grade 9 came around, we went to different high schools. Regretfully, we didn’t see much of each other once our paths had split.

He looked over at me, he must’ve done the same thing I had just done, because he kind of took a second look.

We both smiled and immediately met.

The first and often awkward “Hey, how are you?” passed with ease, and before I knew it, we were chatting about elementary years and about now and about everything in between.

We must have talked for 20 minutes.

I know it sounds so simple, but seeing an old friend I hadn’t seen in years and talking like we had never even lost touch was really a great feeling. In fact, seeing him probably made my night.

There’s just something about familiarity that is so comforting. Like going home for the weekend, or bumping into a friend you haven’t seen in years.

So thank you. Thanks for making my night, and for making 6 years of not talking feel like 6 days.

RY X

An artist I’ve recently found and fallen in love with.

RY X, an album that combines classic musical instruments - piano, guitar, violin, etc. - with electronic bass and synth elements. The combination, what I would consider similar to Chet Faker, results in a mesmerizing album of twelve songs that will leave you wanting more.

No, seriously.

When I first discovered this album, I listened to it on repeat for two days straight. I knew the album within two days - knew what song followed the ending of another, knew the first track from the last.

I have a habit? tendency? requirement? to listen to an album in order, from first track to last, at least for the first few times I listen to it.

If you look at albums by Alt - J, Chet Faker, or even classic rock albums by Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin, the songs are meant to be listened to in order. The ending of one song slowly fades into the next. The seamless transitions such as that from “Speak to Me/Breathe” to “On the Run” from Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, suggest exactly why the albums should be listened to in order.

I can almost guarantee you that the artist or band behind an album does not want you to listen to it on “shuffle.” The songs were created in conjunction with each other; they were meant to go in a certain order, to be listened to in a certain order.

If you’re having a difficult time understanding this, the next time you listen to an album (preferably for the first time), listen to it from start to finish, no “shuffle” and try to say there is not an undeniable flow to the album.

Listening to an album this way encourages the idea that an album is one large work, rather than several separate works.

Take, for instance, a vinyl record, or later, a cassette tape. Some of the earliest methods of at-home listening, and there is no “shuffle” option. Believe me, there’s a reason for this.

Below I have linked one of my favourite songs from RY X’s album, Dawn. Have a listen, and if you like it, give the album a listen.

(In order, that is).

IT’S OFFICIAL

Well, it’s official. I am a published writer. Though being published in a student-run arts magazine may seem trivial to some, to me, it’s fantastic. Being able to see my writing--my thoughts, my passions, and my experiences--in print is truly amazing. I can only hope to write again for the magazine next semester. It has been such a fulfilling experience, not to mention some of the incredibly talented writers that I have been lucky enough to meet.

It goes without saying that this magazine is in many ways a representation of myself, of you, and of everyone that skims through its pages. Creative expression is what I’m meant to pursue. I know it. Whether through writing, or visual art, I can confidently say that this is what I’m passionate about.

Having the opportunity to be part of such an amazing creation makes me realize how important it is to surround yourself with those who share your passions. Inspiration is fleeting, and I’ve learned that when you feel that crazy thing we call inspiration, you have to just go with it. Being around like-minded people really encouraged me to exert my creative abilities. I’ve realized how important it is to go with what inspires you, whether it’s a feeling from within or a feeling brought on by those around you.

I don’t really know where this is going now, that seems to happen sometimes with these posts. But, I’m okay with that - I’m taking my inspiration and going with it ... and there is little more satisfying than that.

I guess what I’m trying to say, is find your passion. Find your passion(S). Find what inspires you and go with it. Find your passion, free your passion, and live your passion.

There is no better way to be happy.

FOOL’S PARADISE

I recently wrote an article for a publication at my school, a magazine for all things creative. As an editor for the magazine, I was offered an opportunity to contribute a piece for the fall issue. It is my first year as an editor for the magazine, and I was honoured to have the opportunity to have my writing published.

I don’t really have much to say about the article; I suppose I should just let the writing speak for itself.

Fool’s Paradise

_______________________________________________________________________

Call it what you want—science, fate, or pure chance—but I believe that people come in and out of our lives for a reason. Some people are just meant to be in our lives, whether it’s to introduce us to our all-time favourite band, or to teach us a lesson we will hold on to for life. A few years ago, I was taught a lesson, and it goes something like this:

Young, and in love. Or so I thought.

It started out just as any ordinary relationship would, with coffee dates and walks to the waterfront where we learned about each other through those typical “first-date” questions. Fast forward, we started dating, and things were going well. He was super romantic and sent me flowers, and he got along great with the family. Things were great, until one day, he snapped. I saw a side of him that I never thought I would—aggressive, irrational, and controlling. He would get mad at the most unexpected of times, suddenly and abruptly. The episodes were usually short-lived, and within 24 hours I would find myself suffocated by tearful apologies and store-bought bouquets. It was like watching a firework go off, following it as it soared higher and higher into the sky, and watching it eventually fizzle out, the debris falling to the ground.

(?) The same things would happen time and time again. The most trivial things became issues: not answering his texts right away, talking to my male friends at school, or even wearing certain clothing. I became a product of his own idealizations—if he thought something I did was wrong or unfair, I believed him, and immediately felt guilty for my ‘actions.’ I felt constantly responsible for the way he was, though I later learned his behaviour was something far beyond my control. His behaviour followed a distinguishable pattern, and it seemed to be the same thing happening every day. But days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, and before I knew it, it was 10 months later and I was no further along than I was at the start.

The thing is, I became so expectant of the outbursts; they were something that I grew to know and recognize. After a while, I became numb to the name-calling and the accusations. The lines of blame were blurred now more than ever, and I caught myself believing that his behaviour was my own fault: “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that…” or “He’s right, it was wrong of me to do that.” I found myself apologizing as a result of my desperate hope that things would go back to how they were before. But that was the problem—things were never going to go back to how they were. My friends knew it, my family knew it—everyone around me knew it, but I was blindsided by manipulation.

It was as though I was running the 400-metre race with myself. The gun had sounded, and without even realizing it, I found myself running. The first few strides felt calculated and had a surprising sense of control, which propelled me through the first 100 metres with ease. 300 metres to go—I kept running, I sure as hell didn’t look back—200 metres, 100 metres. The final sprint proved the most difficult…my legs started to feel numb, but I had almost reached the finish line. A sudden feeling of freedom had washed over me, and I felt elated, as if nothing could stop me. As I approached the finish line, I reluctantly came to a slow upon the bitter realization that I was back at the point where I started. The finish line was also the starting line, and before I knew it, I was back where I began.

I found myself caught between knowing better and feeling like I knew nothing at all. The hardest part was, that despite all the blame and accusation, I still loved him. I hated myself for loving him—how could I love someone who treated me so unbelievably poorly? Who made me question my own worth? Who made me change myself, to suit himself?

That’s the thing—it wasn’t love, I just didn’t want to believe it.

Eventually, I did.

So I learned. I learned that I didn’t like to be yelled at, and I learned that no, roses are not an acceptable apology. I learned that it’s okay to cry, but never for the wrong reasons. I learned that my family and friends are the most important people in my life, and that even when I may not have been able to see my relationship for what it truly was, they definitely did. They were right. But most importantly, I learned that I was not to be defined by someone else, and that I never will be again.

Lesson learned.

BACK

I have a strong suspicion that now that school has started back up again, posts on this blog will slowly become more and more regular.

Funny how that works, eh? 4 months of the summer to just do as you please, sleep in or wake early, stay up late or crash before 10. In the summer, time is nothing but your own (except for that summer job, of course).

Aahh the first week back--You spend the first few days taking in the beautiful campus filled with ivy-covered buildings, and despite the 30º heat and lack of air conditioning, waiting in line at the bookstore.

Fast forward to mid-September, and you’re back in front of your laptop, looking through course outlines and reluctantly switching from your school-related tabs to your not so school-related tabs (Facebook can be school relevant, right?).

Before you know it, it’s October, and your first-week-back excitement has slowly dulled to a monotonous routine. Your assignments and readings begin piling up, and the hours (and full days) spent at the library all start to feel like an ongoing marathon of reading, highlighting, and cranking out notes faster than you can say carpal tunnel.

This is where my creative drive goes insane--where my desire to create, to express and to explore is suppressed by essay outlines and thesis statement drafts.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that’s where this page comes in. Here I am able to write and reflect on my day to day experiences and thoughts, free from word counts and free from academic restrictions altogether. How refreshing to be able to express yourself freely?

I’m hoping to start posting more pictures to this page. I take so many but never think to post them here. Hopefully in posts to come pictures will become more and more regular--you know what they say, “a picture is worth a thousand words.”

I guess to wrap this up, I just wanted to check in and get my thoughts rolling for future posts.

Even though it is only the second day of classes, I am already so happy to be writing this post, and not notes. :)

Later.

A song I have recently had on repeat.

The Lumineers - “Angela”

A band I had listened to years ago, but had kind of forgotten about.

I was never crazy about the The Lumineers, but the release of their new album, Cleopatra, has changed my mind completely.

I have linked what is for now my favourite song from the album.

Listen, and I hope you enjoy.

Now this was an experience all together.

I feel that most people often fear rainy weather, especially when it creeps in on their cottage time.

For me, a day of solid rain is just as satisfying as a day spent under the sun. I love the sound, I love the smell, I love the thoughts and feelings that rain encourages.

Typically I would be inside on a day which included such weather, but this rainfall was rather unexpected.

As my friend and I sat on the dock, covered by a canopy of branches and leaves, we looked out onto the lake before us.

The sky grew dark quickly, and before we knew it we could barely make out the horizon line across the lake - it was blurred by the heavily falling rain.

It was then that you could sense a difference in the weight of the air, in the growing sound of an approaching rainfall, in the smell of water meeting warm land.

It was as if you could see the rain approaching us from across the lake - we saw it travelling across the lake - yet instead of packing up our stuff and heading up to the cottage, we sat still.

As the volume of the rain around us increased, we grew increasingly still. With not a worry in the world (expect the state of our electronics), together we sat, covered by the trees overhead, looking out at the storm we were in the midst of.

I can’t quite put words to it, but there was something so satisfying about this moment. Something so satisfying about sharing a moment that would otherwise probably not have taken place.

My friend and I sat together and watched the rain over the lake. Friends of over 15 years, with 15 years worth of things to talk about - yet we didn’t talk at all.

Rather, we sat in the comfort of each others’s silence, knowing well that we were each appreciating this moment the same.

After sitting for a while and noticing the rain grow stronger and louder and then slowly die down, just to pick back up again, my friend and I made a decision.

We decided to jump in the lake, in the pouring rain.

And we did.

Swimming at just the surface of the lake, with the rain pouring down over us, I felt alive.

This was such a unique experience, and I am so glad that I have a picture to document it.

Embracing the rain on that summer afternoon was an experience I won’t soon forget.

Cottage living. The things I would do to have a space to escape to. There is something about being at the cottage that just makes you forget all about life at home. All the stresses and all the thoughts that occupy your mental space at home are left behind. You are left with nothing but the sound of the breeze coming in through the windows, filling the room with cool, fresh air.

The cottage encourages you to appreciate the small things.

And it only gets better when you are on the water. The lake is therapeutic, I swear.

#cottage

Not the best quality photos (taken with my iPhone), but still gives a sense of the experience. Nothing quite like lawn seats and live music on a warm summer night.

WHERE’VE YOU BEEN?

Thursday, July 14, 2106. 1:11 pm.

It has been nearly two months since my last post, and let me just say I am not proud of my absence.

Very shortly after my last post, I had an accident, something that had never happened to me before...

I spilled water on my laptop.

A lot of water.

So, to make a long, long story short, for about a month I was without a computer. At first it didn’t bother me much to be without a laptop, as I was so busy with work - but I quickly grew anxious to have a laptop again.

I researched and did all my homework on what was the best laptop to purchase; the last time I made a purchase this significant would have been my last laptop (around 2012).

I eventually decided on a new laptop, and to put it simply, since then have not quite found the time to write.

I had thought about it numerous times and have even felt guilty about not writing...I thought often about this page and its lack of updated content.

But - here I am, just shy of two months later, and I am posting again. I have not forgotten about this page nor my intentions in creating it. I want to write and I want to share and I want to document the everyday happenings of my life.

I have since been out on several occasions worth documenting - I have been to summer concerts and I have been to cottages where I have felt more inspired and at ease than I have in a while.

The summer months are beautiful in that sense. Unless you are one of the students who choose to continue their education over the fleeting four months of summer, you have all the time in the world to live, to experience...to go to an outdoor concert in 35º heat, and to feel the music pumping through you.

Summer months are for living - where you have all the time in the world to do anything and everything in the world. Free from restrictions of deadlines or due dates, the time is yours and yours only, and however you choose to spend it is completely up to you.

Whether it is finding a new hobby, exercising, working, discovering, or creating - this time is yours and it is fleeting. Soak up the warm months of summer.

I will post some pictures of my concert and cottage times. To think that in a couple months I will be huddled in a jacket and scarf...looking back at them as a memory.

#random #wow #howdidigethere

ARTSPIRATION

Tuesday, May 17, 2016. 9:18 am.

This morning I woke up quite early, just before 7:00.

There’s something I love about early mornings (once I can get myself out of bed). I really like getting as many hours as I can out of the day.

For someone who used to sleep in until 11:00 or later on a regular basis during the summer, I have really turned that around and have come to realize how amazing mornings are.

Anyways, I was looking over this page, and was trying to think of ways that I could improve it, by adding another page to include my current music faves, etc.

I then thought of creating a page to display some of my art and photography from over the years--and this is exactly what I ended up doing.

This may seem irrelevant or unnecessary, but I knew for sure that I wanted the background of the page to be black, or nearly so. I just personally feel that art and photographs stand out more on a black background.

That having been said, I created a new page that I have linked to this one, under the tab “My Art.” I’m sure there was an easier way around this, but for someone who is just getting used to web-formatting, I think it turned out okay.

I chose to include some of my favourite photos that I have taken and artwork that I have completed over the past 5+ years.

I took visual art all through high school, and took a photography class in 11th grade as well. It was not until 12th grade, when I took IB art, that I realized there was so much more to creating art than following the teacher’s instructions.

In fact, I think that the best art is that which is created without instructions or restrictions. I was really exposed to this when it came to 12th grade, where our class of no more than 8 students essentially had to create the “rules” for ourselves. We were to choose a common theme for our pieces--we could create however many we wanted (e.g. 5 smaller pieces or 2 very large ones), and work on whatever work we wanted, whenever we wanted. It was completely up to us.

I really think that this was a great experience, and was a way of creating true art, or art as an extension of the artist. Everything that we created, was completely our decision. Thus, at the end of the semester, each students’ collection had an entirely unique style and feel. Very cool.

Fast forward to university, where I was lucky enough to have been selected as 1 of 20 or so students to participate in a first-year Fine Art course, “Fundamentals of Drawing and Painting.”

Now, this class was a whole new ballgame. From the materials that were required, to having an actual studio space, it was way more advanced than high school art class--and I loved every bit of it.

It was during this class (which sadly was only one semester, 4 very fast months) that I first experimented with oil paint, something that we were never exposed to in high school. Oil painting is so different compared to acrylic--for one, the dry time is much, much, longer--meaning that you had all the time you needed to blend and smooth out paint to your satisfaction. On the downside, I sometimes grew impatient waiting for a layer of paint to dry, because I just wanted to apply the next layer already! But I learned that it was worth the wait, because if you rushed into a new layer, you just ended up mudding up your hours of hard work on the previous layer.

Another first during this class was figure drawing. I mean, in high school we had done “figure drawing,” but never with a paid model, one who actually knew how to pose for an art class. What was even more new to me was when the model got naked. I’m not kidding--we had to sketch the nude model.

I included my figure drawing on my art page, as it turned out to be one of my favourite pieces I have ever completed.

After I got over the whole nude model thing, I came to the conclusion that figure drawing was actually my favourite part of the class. In fact, I would love to take a figure drawing class on my own time.

. . . . . . . . . .

I guess I should wrap this post up now.

If this post is any indication, I guess what I’m trying to say is that art is passion of mine and a big part of my life; I want to be able to share it through this site.

So go ahead, check out the “My Art” page, and keep your eye out for that nude drawing!

;)

DARK NECESSITIES

Friday, May 13, 2016. 10:18 am.

So, yesterday I discovered that Red Hot Chili Peppers have released a new single, “Dark Necessities” and have announced the impending release of their new album, The Getaway (expected mid-June).

I am listening to the single as I write this post.

It is not too often that I am introduced to new music and automatically like it. Usually it takes me a few times of hearing a particular song or entire album before I really like it. This is not the case with RHCP’s new single.

As soon as I pressed play, I was drawn in. The iconic RHCP sound–heavy bass, catchy guitar riffs, and not to mention Kiedis’s distinguishable voice–were all satisfying at first listen.

I am happy that (for this single at least) RHCP have stayed true to their iconic sound. It is so easy for bands to get swept up by production companies who want them to do this or sing like that. A large risk to take, as I personally feel that this often results in a loss of listeners. The listeners who grew to know their individual sound as a group are left surprised and often reluctant to continue listening to a “new” sound.

Needless to say, the true RHCP sound that is evident in the single, “Dark Necessities,” will keep myself, as well as all other RHCP fans listening.

I now have high hopes for this album, considering how much I enjoy the single.

Have a listen, and if you have been a RHCP listener all along, I’m sure you will like it just as much as I do.

To new music.

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