“Songs are funny things. They can slip across borders. Proliferate in prisons. Penetrate hard shells. I always believed that the right song at the right moment could change history.”
- Pete Seeger
October 10, 2008
On Singing
October 10, 2008
What it means
Jolie laide, or literally translated as [pretty (attractive) ugly woman] or simply ‘ugly pretty’ (and if you’ve ever watched Tyra Banks’ on America’s Next Top Model, you will have a visual cue of what this looks like – in model form), is a French expression for a woman who is oddly attractive, though not conventionally beautiful. That’s essentially how I see myself. That I would rather be considered beautiful for something other than the obvious looks of a classic beauty–not that I really have much of a choice in the matter, I suppose!–something like that elusive je ne sais quoi, another French expression that isn’t so easily translated literally.
I like the term, and this site does a great job of summing up why: “Why be beautiful when you could be interesting?”
October 9, 2008
The Pacific Ocean, from different angles
I haven’t had much of an opportunity to take any breathtaking shots yet with my camera, but I like this set because the pictures evoke different moods.
The Pacific Ocean taken near CFB Esquimalt
At the Wharf in Esquimalt
And the third of the ocean at night, along the Ogden Point Breakwater, near Victoria’s Inner Harbour.
Taken near the Ogden Point Breakwater
October 8, 2008
Getting There
The plane ride from Vancouver to Victoria, British Colombia is scarcely 20 minutes from start to finish—but the ride itself was an adventure and the view from the plane’s small pothole window just stunning. In a small plane that fit myself, 30 strangers, and Minister of the Environment John Baird, we bounced and rocked, while my otherwise nonplussed self gripped the armrests with a little more than mere concern, only half to one km above the ocean spread out at our feet.
Sailboats and motorboats and even the occasional tanker were blotches of colour against a canvas and islands, some of which were mere smudges of land, split the ocean to rise up against the fault. Many of the larger islands were inhabited by a house or two, coupled with the requisite boat + dock, the tops of trees forming a carpet of forest. In some cases, the smallest islands were little more than a sandbar. Where the islands housed mountains, thick clouds topped the biggest ones, covering and gobbling up their peaks. I flew in yesterday, but the images have stayed with me, in full colour, and I wanted to write them down in case they started to fade.
(Although I did share plane air with Min. Baird, it does not mean that we are suddenly bosom buddies, nor does it mean that I agree with the government’s policy on the environment. I may be a Tory girl at heart, but I ♥ the environment—and sustainable protection of it—even more. And this, despite the credits I now need to offset my carbon-consuming ways!)
