Archives for the month of: January, 2013

starry starry nightHolly’s husband Jeff shared this photo a couple of weeks ago and I keep going back to his Facebook page so I can look at it again. I think that means it’s ready to be shared here. The photographer’s description of the photo says it shows the southern sky with the constellations Orion and Sirius from Canis Major. Pretty incredible.

Also, if you like space, follow Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield on Twitter. He is constantly posting photos of Earth from space and photos from inside the international space station.

If you love eccentric billionaires, you could also check out the photos Cirque du Soleil founder Guy Laliberté took from space. They were on display at the Thompson Landry Gallery in Toronto a few months ago. It’s not really the photos that interest me, more that the crazy performance artist from Montreal paid the Russian space program $35 million to take him to the moon for 11 days.

Happy winter weekend!

Photo in post by Adam Hill.

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By far the most hilarious Christmas present I got this year was a book called Coloring for Grown-Ups from my little sister.  Illustrators Ryan Hunter and Taige Jensen portray the low-points of adulthood in the style of children’s colouring book, complete with mazes, fill-in-the-blanks and word searches. But instead of searching for animal sounds, Hunter and Jensen ask you to search for important key words for pretending you know a lot about beer and to maneuver through a maze to escape a toxic relationship.

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I have been meaning to buy some crayons so that I can colour in the fun, but that was three weeks ago and apparently I am too much of a cheap, jaded adult to go through with it. More images are available on the book’s website.

I have been inordinately obsessed with the Talking Heads’ song Road to Nowhere over the past few weeks. I am feeling existential, particularly about the career world. It is seeming to me that all of those glamorous careers people covet are never what they seem. It seems every female I went to University with at Western works in either PR or marketing, and I certainly do not have the disposition for any of that pollution. In my experience, writing full-time for a newspaper is a prescription for being overworked, underpaid and precariously employed, at best. (That said, if The Globe and Mail called to offer me a job, I would certainly accept, but I imagine that after the novelty wore off I would find myself stressed and unhappy.)

I really enjoyed the world of education, but have not yet been able to bring the passion I have for learning to the working world. Perhaps, that is because it is inherently worse place to focus your energy. The pursuit of success and money is just not as pleasurable/fulfilling as the pursuit of knowledge/art/culture (and the two worlds rarely overlap). Maybe there is liberty in realizing this before I spend the next 10 years applying to communications jobs in the public service; I can put my all into entrepreneurial pursuits that I can do anywhere in the world without high heels on.

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Because, that’s what David Byrne would do.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Oscar Wilde

I was once asked, hypothetically, what I would have tattooed on myself, should I get a tattoo. I answered a quote by Oscar Wilde. His wit is prophetic, yet cheeky, and I would gladly join the company of the literary tattooed. (Disclaimer: I have not chosen a quote nor gotten the tattoo).

I’m not sure why I didn’t hear about this in September during the festival, but Toronto’s Merril Nisker aka Peaches directed a documentary about herself (an auto-documentary?) that debuted at TIFF in September. Realistically, I don’t pay much attention to TIFF, which is probably why I didn’t hear about it, but I do think Peaches rules. The documentary — Peaches Does Herself — has been called a transsexual rock opera and I can’t say that I have ever seen one of those before. Also, apparently she used to be roommates with Leslie Feist. Cool.