What if? A food revolution

What if we (the people) stopped eating junk food? What would happen? No more chips, colas, burgers, hot-dogs, fries, and all that other stuff considered junk food. Would our economy collapse? Imagine no more McDonald, Wendy's, Jack in the Box, Burger King, Pepsi or Coca-Cola and many other companies or restaurant food chains that promotes JUNK FOOD.

I often wonder what would happen if each and everyone of us was held responsible for its own health, how would that translate in real life. The only free medical care one could access would be for illnesses one had not intentionally provoked. Lets face it, we all know what is, and what isn't good for our bodies, yet we still eat the junk, smoke the poison, drink the alcohol and even do the drugs. We do it knowing that ultimately some of that stuff will bring on diseases or even kill us.

Do we all have a death wish somewhere buried within? Why else do we perpetuate these unhealthy behaviors? Is this what the capitalist world is all about, mass production of junk food that creates bad consumer habits which ultimately is transformed into huge profits for the food, chemical, and pharmaceutical companies?

The money saved on our health care system could be transferred to the education departments and/or the maintenance of our infrastructures.

There seems to be a health consciousness awakening, and this trend is sort of forcing companies to change their product lines to include healthier choices; a trend that includes and focuses on water. More and more companies are getting into the water business, yet for most of us in North America we have access to free water. If we don't like the quality of our tap water we can always get a purifier system, even though our tap water is safe to drink, yet we spend millions of dollars collectively to buy bottled water. Water is a healthy choice for us, but not for the environment since most plastic water bottles end up in landfills.

When I was a kid there were water fountains in all the parks, government buildings, and many other places. What happened to those? Now days, some parks will even have a food stands (offering junk food) or vending machines where you can also buy water bottles for $2.00. How crazy is that?

I believe that if we collectively improved our diets this would have a profound effect on society as well, because usually a healthy body will host a healthy mind. There would be less diseases related to bad eating habits, less people in need of medical attention, therefore less prescription drugs and less chemicals going down the drain. Remember that prescription drugs, because of their chemical composition, will remain in our water systems for a very long time therefore affecting all living organism.

I know there are a lot more issues in this world then our eating habits but we have to start somewhere, and think, how can you change the world if you are sick? Our first responsibility is to ourself, we should all treat our bodies with respect.

By the way, I do break down and eat junk food from time to time but I try not to make a habit of it. Moderation is the key.

Food for thoughts!

Hockey Mahem

I have three kids, two boys, one girl; they all played hockey and other organized sports. However, hockey has always been the most violent sport they ever played, and they often came home with cuts and bruises. I was a hockey mom, spent all my weekends in one arena or an other, we traveled all over the province for tournaments, and both my boys are still playing.

In his teenage years, my oldest son got so badly injured that the doctor said that if he received an other blow like the one that nearly paralyzed him he might never walk again. Later on during try outs he fell and someone skated on his hand cutting it wide open; again he needed medical attention, and did not make the Triple A Junior league that year. Consequently, he decided to quit hockey because he thought his health was more important than the game since he wasn't going to make it as a pro.

A few years later, both my sons got together and started a team within a garage league. Most players are in their late twenties and have full time jobs, they love the game and still want to play. However, there is always one guy that forgets that this is for fun and uses the ice to unleash his frustrations, usually using unnecessary violence.

A few days ago, Shawn got hit from behind in the last three minutes of the game resulting in a very serious knee injury, he left the game in an ambulance while the player who hit him ran away to the changing room and left without even an apology. Shawn's knee was so swollen they couldn't tell how bad the injury was, fortunately after a few days it seems that it is a very bad sprain or minor torn ligament, meanwhile he has to miss a few days work without pay, and no hockey for a month.

I am told that the person who hit him will be expelled from the league. I don't know if it is because I am a woman that I don't get the violence in sports. Hockey is such a great game when it is played fare and square, when skating and handling can almost be an art form within the rules of the game. For all the non professional hockey players out there, remember that there are no million dollars waiting at the end of the game, no compensation plan to support you and your family if you should get disabled while playing your favorite sport. Remember you are playing because you love the game, you love the physical exercise you get out of it and the beers that follow.

Above all remember that everyone has a life, family and friends waiting afterwards, and that no one deserves to leave a game on a stretcher.

Play safe!

Free Styling

These two paintings are more about Enlightenment of the Soul. I had no general idea about the direction the first painting was going to take, I did it on automatic pilot, I did not think it through, it was free styling.

Some people mentioned the color pallet of Gauguin, and yes the bright colors are sort of Gauguinish, I never consciously thought about it. Exploring with effects and the texture of acrylics, acrylic paint can be a fun medium to play with, its fast drying and its interaction with either water or gel medium can be challenging. I particularly enjoy some of the accidents that can happen when you over work an area, it can create some particular effects.

These two pieces were more of an exercise to open the channel of creativity. Amazing surprises can emerge from freedom of expression. Not over thinking or analyzing the intention of a piece is liberating. The first piece above really express that freedom of gesture and expression, you can see in the second piece that the mental interfered with the flow and that it is more static. Even though I was working with the same pallet the brush strokes are more controlled, like I am trying to impose an idea or a direction to the piece.

When you are in that special creative zone, in that moment without expectations, things happen. Then as you let the mental or ego come in your special place, it starts to shrink and it translates by altering your brushstrokes.

I love those special moments and I cherish them, instinctively I am also more attached to those pieces that have been created from it. I wish there was an automatic button I could push that could take me there every time I pick up my brushes.

I look forward to my next ZONE IN...

STUFF and MORE STUFF

Haven't really thought about space

Because growing up, I had none

Lived in a 1 bedroom apartment

with Grandma and her brother

He had the only bedroom

While I shared the sofa with Grandma

I didn't mind, didn't know better

Now that I am thinking about it

I find myself wondering

Where did she put my stuff

I must of had stuff, I was a kid!

I don't remember having a dresser.

We had a couch, a television set, a kitchen table

an end table and where was the rest of the stuff?

All in One big closet?

We lived there for 3 or 4 years

Then we moved to a bigger place

3 bedrooms

my first time having my own bedroom

so I thought...

But she wouldn't have it.

Got twin beds in the one bedroom

Her brother got the other one

She closed off the spare bedroom

Cutting cost down on heating.

Privacy? I never had it.

Stuff, I could not keep any.

Eventually, I moved out.

I had no clue and no stuff.

Then over the years

After 3 kids, stuff happened

Lots of stuff...

Then they moved out

Gave them their and some of my stuff

I finally got a big house

Filled it with lots of books and more stuff

Got 2 dogs to replace the kids

Now, there is just too much stuff

To many books, to many papers, clothes

Knick knacks, art supplies and whatever else.

Not a hoarder just a keeper.

I have a box full of Special Occasion Cards

Given to me or the kids, 30 years worth,

All my journals since I was 12,

Boxes of pictures and many photo albums,

My grandma's and my mother's albums

A drawer full of pens, pencils and whatever,

A couple boxes of various papers and odd things,

I hope to use in a special project, like collage or something.

I hang on to things just in case...

I always think I may need it one day.

I managed to give or throw away some of it,

but somehow, other stuff finds its way to my house.

Am I making up for all those years

Of no stuff?

I love my stuff, my books, my art supplies, the pieces of rope,

the jar of buttons, plastic bands, my journals, the pictures, my knitting kit,

and every single objects I have collected over the years.

So why is there a part of me that wants to get rid of it all?

Maybe there is a part in me that misses the lightness of having no stuff...

Graffiti Wall, Maybe...

A bit of foolishness in the air, I decided to just let go and see what would come out of it, and there you have it: Graffiti Wall, Maybe. I know it is far from conventional graffiti and furthermore it is on a canvas and not on a real wall.

I just decided to play with it, incorporated words with Stick Man and Stick Woman along with Stick Dog, why not? Butterflies and music notes. Somehow the colors are pleasing to the eyes and the content draws you in so you can find some details or messages.

Just a fun piece to loosen up with so I can go back to the serious stuff. Now, what does it mean...serious stuff? There are so many artists out there trying to break through, so many different styles and original ideas, sometimes it makes me wonder why I am doing this, and what will become of it all.

Looking at other people's art work will either inspire and/or intimidate my creative juices. I wonder how far creativity can take us, what will we come up with next. I decided to challenge myself and spend more time with my paint and brushes and see where it will take me.

At this point I haven't found my signature or style, still in an exploration mode. I want to experiment with collage, I have been accumulating bits of papers of all kinds hoping to use some of it for that purpose. There are so many things lying around dormant in either boxes or drawers waiting to be used, so many ideas have come and gone because I did not write them down.

Mental note: WRITE THINGS DOWN and TURN OFF THE TELEVISION (forever if you can...)

Field of Iris'

Revisiting an unfinished project can sometime be a good thing. I forgot this work for months, lost interest and although it called to me from time to time I would not touch it. It seems like I needed to take my distance from it, I had to wait for that moment when it just clicks into place, and you just know instinctively what to do.

I've tried to capture the essence of the painting with my camera, but somehow it doesn't do it justice, meaning it doesn't allow the painting to pull you in like the original canvas does. I don't believe it to be a master piece but somehow you would feel an emotional charge coming through. I don't usually paint flowers, this is my first time, and I found it to be quite a challenge, so much so that I have a second one in the works.

I have put aside the forest because I can't seem to make up my mind about which season it will depict, everyday I walk by it and I know that my sub conscience is picking up its vibes and analyzing what's missing or what needs adjusting, it will work its magic and eventually delivered its findings so I can act on it. I had several unfinished paintings in my basement and this past week I brought them all up in my studio, they had been down there for so long that I had forgotten some of them.

There are no links between them, some were assignments and never really spoke to me. Actually, the spontaneous creations always seemed better executed and have an energy charge that the assigned work seems to lack. However, when I revisit them with a fresh eye, without the pressure to deliver I will either change the painting completely or make some subtle changes that somehow will make the difference, meaning that I will feel content with the end result. This is what happened with the Field of Iris', I am content, satisfied with the outcome, I can let it go.

Funny thing, it used to be easy to let go of my paintings because I felt that if I let them go I could just create more, somehow it seems a bit harder these days must be because of that long halt, months without touching my brushes, no desire or need to. Now it is different, I see and imagine colors and shapes in my head again. That feels good...Next step will be for my paintings to find a new home where they will be appreciated and loved. Consequently, I will have to work on the next generation.

Being remembered, does it matter?

I have been thinking about what pushes me into action, like why do I paint or write, is it because I feel the urge to leave some kind of Legacy, a sign that I was here, that somehow I mattered?

I heard Jean Pascal the Boxer on a radio talk show, and he said "some people read or write about history, I want to make history!" Obviously not everyone is called to make history, some of us disappear leaving nothing behind. It is a bit like if a tree falls in the forest did anyone hear it? What compels us to leave our mark, and what if the world ends, then who would remember any of us then? Does it matter?

In some ways this urgency to leave our mark propels us to action, to create or do something that we hope will last the passing of time. Our ego needs recognition and appreciation, this makes us believe we are worth it, it boosts our self-esteem.

This brings me to my family, I remember my grandmother and some stories about my great grandmother, but really, I know nothing of her family and friends, none of them did anything worth remembering them for in history books.

I have my grandmother's old pictures in a box, filled of her people that I don't know and, there is no one left to tell me about them, none of them made history, yet I am sure they wanted to leave a Legacy or be remembered like the rest of us.

They only came to life when my grandmother and her siblings would tell stories to each other about them, I am afraid that back then, when I was young, I lost interest during some of the story telling because I did not know them. Today I wish I had paid attention.

One of my great aunt was exceptionally good at story telling, but her stories were mostly make believe, she lived in a magical world of her own, and I loved her for it. She made my every days special days, she would foretell how my day would unfold, how I would go to the pond and run into a frog, how I would build castles in the sand, and play house outside with some old blankets and chairs, or how I would play cowboys and Indians with the neighbor's kids. I was in awe that she knew all that I would do before I even knew it. She did not make the history books, but she lives in my memories, memories I have to share of this incredible joyful woman that made living a fun adventure.

She was an animal lover and she talked to them, somehow they seemed to understand her. She would talk to birds and would give them rides on the clothes line. She would guide the bees to pollinate certain flowers. She even had a pig as a pet that followed her around. She was the clown of the family, I remember a certain car ride with her, my grandmother and their friends, she had us all in stitches we were laughing so hard, she was the light of the party and she did not even drink.

Nora liked to cook and bake and she liked having her family around her table. She made her own jams and pies to the delight of all. And, one of her money making hobby was to pick up worms to sell to the local fishermen. She would leave with her sun hat, her bucket and her shovel and walk into the cow field and dig for the wiggly worms. Also, during the strawberry harvest season she initiated me to the art of strawberry picking, I worked along side of her on our neighbor's strawberry farm. My aunt would sing and make jokes as we worked to the delight of everyone in the field. These were the best summers ever.

There were people in my life I wish my children had the chance to meet and know because they made my life so much more happier. Aunt Nora was one of them. You can see her on the left of the black and white picture, I am sitting next to her with my grandmother and my brother, my fifth birthday. And, in the color picture she is holding my son, unfortunately she left us not long afterward.



I guess it is up to me to keep my family history alive by writing about it so that my children can learn about all those incredible people that have shaped our family.