{ C o l i b r i – – ☂

"A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession." Albert Camus

It’s Cold

Fall Painting

It was a whooping 7 degree celcius with light rain today. Freezing! I even threw on a pair of nice warm gloves that feel like rabbit’s fur. Everyone wanted to hog them.

I went for an appointment with my school orientation lady (also my seventh grade english teacher) to discuss the things I need for university. Everything went relatively well. I had to ask about a letter of intention that I need to write for certain schools that I’ll be applying to, seeing as I’ve never seen one before in my life. Well, I have, but the examples on the internet are so unclear! I need some sort of direction that will help me start writing it. It should be 500 words long explaining why I wish to spend the rest of my life in the film industry. That’s all I know so far. I have an idea, but it’s hard to think of something that will really stick out. I’m sure everyone else will write “BECAUSE IT’S A PASSION & I LOVE IT!”, and for me, it’s true! But that’s not something I think will satisfy them. They’ve been there, they’ve done that. The world of art needs something different; revolutionary, even, if I want to push myself that far.

Why do I want to make movies? To make an impact from my beliefs and those of others through an artistic and industrialized method, to show mankind that there is beauty in everything. I want to share my vision with everyone. Is that brute to say? I’ve thought of it all day. I think that basically sums up what I have in mind. On a very large scale.

Yesterday, I had to write a unit test in Human Geography class. I did well, received my grade pretty quickly. I wanted to help this German exchange student really bad because I could see her struggle with her french as she flipped through her dictionary almost constantly while the teacher tried to distract us from our sheets, making noises, singing songs from his IPod, tapping our shoulders, things like that. It was hard to concentrate, but I didn’t complain. I’m not much of a party-pooper. Also, for some reason, I feel as though I’m the only one who doesn’t like him as a teacher. Everyone else is cool with it because they think it’s cool that he can’t speak french like them! Or it’s cool that he reads his notes from University outloud instead of giving us actual lectures! My Italian friend, Anastasia, agrees with me though. He’s irritating, and shouldn’t be a teacher. Or at least a french one. When we were done, he was speaking to some other students I don’t much like about Lulu Lemon, an athletic-clothing line store. They were going on about how they would bye the entire store if they could. I said the pants give ginormous camel-toes and he gave me the DIRTIEST look like I was a piece of scrap – actually, everyone kind of did at some level. They’re preppy – I’m entirely not.

Sometimes I wish I was back in Quebec where everyone is just a little bit more open-minded. In Ottawa, people are self-centered and conservative. They don’t  say hi back (when they do, you’ve hit the jackpot) and it’s unpleasant to go in the sad-excuse-for-a-downtown. There’s a feud between them – Quebec & Ontario – and me, I’m smack in the middle and I can’t say anything about it. The Ontarians think I’m one of them now. But really, all we have in common is that I speak English. I don’t care about politics or money or religion or if that guy’s black. And I don’t want to study here for University. HELL NO. I refuse. I was lucky enough to meet very few people that aren’t stereotypically-ontarian. They’ve accepted me the way I am. Still, that’s not enough to keep me stranded here. It’s either back to the Motherland or out West for me.

In other news, I’m settling well here on wordpress. I’ve even gotten a comment from a stranger about my blog and I was very glad to read it!

ps: It’s my 19th birthday in 18 days. C:

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