Origami etc

Origami

Started on another fish tank origami display. This time, I'm using a fish tank my mom doesn't want, so there'll be no fear of her taking it apart again!

Picked up Origami Design Secrets: Mathematical Methods for an Ancient Art by Robert J. Lang.

It's absolutely wonderful. It's not just a "folding" book with only instructions and minimal literature. It goes into how models have been designed and gives tips. The first or biggest tip is this: modify an existing model; don't expect to create something totally original at first. I like that. He writes something to the effect of "no design is sacred", meaning it's totally open for modification or interpretation.

The only thing I don't like is my inability to accurately reproduce those models--I guess "difficult" would be the word, but my biggest problem is getting the proportions just right. For example:

I'm instructed to fold the paper in half and just make a pinch mark at the halfway point. Then, halve that half and pinch again at the one quarter mark. Then, make a crease from the half-way mark, and bring the far corner of the paper to the one-quarter mark.

Problems:
- the pinch marks are nearly invisible on the white side of the paper
- the pinch marks are rather thick, increasing error
- some paper doesn't like pinch-marks: it'll resist the fold unless it's creased all the way.

Ah well.


New origami pieces added to my deviantArt gallery:

Writing

I'm starting a writing exchange with Kevin. So far, I've sent him a link to Stipper and Jo, and he's sent me a poem about dying in a car crash.

Hehe.

He seems to have a morbid fascination with car crashes--or, I dunno, maybe. His film group's name references it; and he's sent in two submissions for his university's literature journal about car crashes. He said the other day that maybe this is why he hasn't got his driving license yet.

Anyway. This poem he sent is...yeah, morbid--unexpectedly morbid. The end cuts off like in Margaret Laurence's Stone Angel.


Kevin

Went to the library with Kevin on Wednesday. We're kinda geeky, but I don't at all mind. He checked out books on David Lynch (he's just finished Twin Peaks) and some DVDs. I took out Origami Design Secrets: Mathematical Methods for an Ancient Art by Robert Lang and The Origami Bible by Nick Robinson.

We talked about English, about literature, about language and communication. We took the same bus back, and I recited part of I Could Be A Poet by Taylor Mali, and some of Stipper and Jo by me.

Stipper and Jo is one of those poems that has to be read aloud for the full effect. When I wrote it, I had in mind a quick pace, and a British accent. I kinda want to perform it one day.

Anyway, so I was reciting poetry on the bus; and I was drinking coffee (actually, a "Black Cherry Pie", which is hot chocolate, espresso and black cherry syrup--delicious!), so I spoke rather loudly and excitedly. I just about missed my stop because of it. A lady happened to get off at the same stop, and she turned to me and said, "That coffee sure got you going, didn't it!"


As I was walking, I thought about how I fit in the world. Sure, at home or at work, I can be ME with very little thought about what people think; but on the street, who am I?

I thought about the way Kevin might see me. When I got my hair cut this short, he was the first one to see it, and he said nothing. None of that, "Hey, you got your hair cut, it looks nice" bullcrap. And I loved that!

I don't know why he said nothing; maybe he's never said anything about girls' hair before? I don't know, but I don't really care, either. I'm starting to see that honesty--"earnest"-ness in him.

Argh, and this is all after realizing/deciding we wouldn't work as a couple. I guess I still stand by that, but I'm freeing up the type/s of relationship we could have.

"Fluid" is a word I'm starting to use to describe myself--to myself, at least. I change, I flow smoothly, I fill empty spaces, my boundaries are ever changing and I am not restricted to one shape or size--ideally, at least.

So, again, I wonder how he sees me. Probably he sees me as that passionate artist sort, which is nice. I wouldn't mind that.


My Faults

I really like myself. I'm very comfortable with who I am, and not...willing / eager to change, so I can be pretty unmotivated / lazy.

I love attention; I'm pretty self-centred or self-absorbed and sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that not everyone is as "open" as I am, so I have to ask them very specific questions in conversation. I'm working on this, though.

I'm often late. Working on it!


[ post abandoned... ]

Stfu Stuff

Artwork

Woots! Bobfest V is up!

You can also check out what the wall of Boobfest looks like now.

There's also this painting.

This was something I thought up while putting together my army kit. It didn't turn out exactly as I wanted, but pretty close. I think I'll do more of this style in the future; I like it a lot.


Relationships

I think I finally got it through my thick skull that Kevin and I wouldn't work out in a romantic relationship. I'm much too needy--I'm glad that finally got through to me.

It's kinda interesting right now. Maybe I'm just making up meanings, but the fact is that I've sent him about five e-mails recently, two of which asked if he would like to do something this week, and the rest were "just business". He's responded to the "just business ones" only--even the "just business" e-mail that was sent after the "let's hang out" e-mails.

So, I dunno. Maybe he thinks I'm going after him--which I sort of was. I'd love for us to be close friends the way Eric and I are friends, or, at least, the way Eric and I can communicate and know but be pleasantly surprised by one another.

It's... irritating. I wonder how much of it is me and how much of it is.. not me, and what constitutes "not me".

Anyway.


Army

Got my Civi kit inspection today. Probably will get yelled at for not having the "Recommended" items (only the "Mandatory" ones; but you know what, I don't have a ride and I'm not hauling stupid amounts of kit around on a bus.


Me

I've been so angry lately. I want to punch things. I had a dream where I was doing one-handed knuckle push-ups, and it fucking hurt, but I kept going and going until I was absolutely spent.

I don't know what to do--never been... "chronically angry" before.

Exercise, I think.


--Charlie

BIG FLAMING HOMO

Artwork

Here are two watercolours from over Easter:

1. There was an article on rabbits on the Easter newspaper, and they were just so adorable. I dug out my watercolours.

I tried to get that "fuzzy" effect of wet-on-wet. Didn't quite work. Also, Bunny looks too tall, like it's a hunched monster, instead of a cute nibbler. The grass didn't turn out nicely, either. I think the biggest problem is my lack of planning.

2. I put more planning into this doodle.

I like this little fellow a lot! This piece is on display in my room.


Queer

I've been thinking about queerness again. The issue has come up with one of my close friends, let's call him Andy, because he's mostly straight, but he loves his best friend, and now they're acting on it.

Andy was one of the first people I came out to--of course, because we were close friends. He didn't get why I had to make such a big deal out of being queer; it's not his business, so why should he care? And every time I'd say something unquestionably queer, he'd call me on it and get fed up immediately. Can't say I'd have blamed him; I think I was the first queer person he had a relationship with.

Anyway. Turns out he loves his best friend. He told me that, ever since I came out to him, he'd been thinking about his love for his best friend. I don't mean to be an I-told-you-so, but I could tell my queerness made him uncomfortable on a deeper and more personal level than just, "Ew, you're a queer person." But I figured it'd be best to let him figure out why he reacted so much.

Our relationship's been through a heck of a lot. I'm not sure what's going on right now; we talked about our differences. He thinks Gay Pride Parades are counterproductive, because shoving it in others' faces won't make them any more accepting. I believe Gay Pride Parades are more about celebrating than convincing. Similarly, I don't think fiancees invite guests to their wedding to convince them they love eachother; they invite others to celebrate.

Is it vain to celebrate in public? Maybe. But some people think they have all sorts of rights. I still remember our History teacher saying, "Some people believe they have the right to be surrounded only by white people." Similarly, I think some people believe they have the right to be surrounded by only heteronormative people.

Andy says that I'm intolerant of those who aren't as open-minded. Sadly, I think he's got a point. I really, really wish people were more open-minded. At the same time, I'm learning that there needs to be all sorts of people for the world to work. (I think that's what the Tower of Babel was about.)

"You need to be more open-minded!" has been added to my list of ironic phrases.


I like obscenity

I'm not sure why. I like that it rubs us the wrong way and makes us uncomfortable. I like controversy and making people uncomfortable. Is that selfish? Do I like being made uncomfortable? ... I think I do; sometimes. I can appreciate it when something makes me uncomfortable--intellectually.

Sometimes I'm a bit too obscene for my own social survival (like playing games with Kevin's brother who's three years younger than us). Man, I can just see it happening--I'm courting Kevin and I'm over for a family dinner and I start talking about clits and menstruation over a fabulous turkey dinner and suddenly everyone has lost appetite.

I'm trying to tone it down when I'm around certain crews.


Church

I stick out in my church. We're maybe 99% Asians, and all of us, generally, very traditional. Of the women, I probably have the shortest hair. I try to style it so that it looks "modern" as opposed to "masculine", but somehow I'm always wearing masculine ("gender neutral" at best) clothes, too. Everyone always says it's "cute", like if they said anything else, it might be insulting or give me away as a queer.

Dammit, I'm pretty open, too.

I want to be a FLAMING HOMO in my church. But that's a bit difficult for women; I guess I could pierce the bajeebus out of my face, and wear a mohawk and black pants with metal chains hanging everywhere. Or, I dunno, plaid and steel-toed boots.

The weird thing is that I trust our leaders: pastors and some elders and teachers, and even some of the more prominent figures in our general body/classes. But it's everyone else; the way gossip travels, the way everyone is up in everyone else's business--I can't stand that.

I'd love it if I could shout, "WOOO, I'M A HOMO!" and stop everyone from trying to ask and gossip. "GET OVER IT!" I know this group of people would have little problem with it; and there would definitely be some people on the ends of the spectrum, who'd either congratulate me, or condemn me; but the majority of them would whisper about how sorry they are for my soul: "Is that proper? I don't think it's proper. Maybe she'll go to Hell. Poor girl. Let's pray that she changes."

"THAT'S RIGHT, I LOVE CLIT! BOOBS ARE FANTASTIC, AND NIPPLES ARE FLIPPIN' AMAZING!"

Haha. Right, that's happening.

--Charlie!

047:

I went to Perkins with Mark again, and used the ladies' room while I was waiting. A girl came in. She looked at me, exited, and came back a few seconds later. That was hilarious.
Legfest?

So, by now, everyone knows I have Boobfest, which is a collection of drawings of the naked female figure, more specifically, the upper body.

I also want to study legs and hips, because I've never been able to represent poses properly--they always seem off, somehow. So I decided I'd study legs next.


Highschool Art

Back in highschool, we studied the human figure, too. More specifically, hands and feet. Here are a few of my studies:

Army

I've been calling in sick for Army, so there's not much else to cover; except that my BMQ/SQ will be from the end of April to the end of June. Woo.


Teaching

I got to fill in for the Calc teacher on 02-Feb and 09-Feb. I guess I forgot to write about it.

02 Feb
This was a disaster. Alan didn't leave any materials and didn't even e-mail me the topics he wanted covered! I was a nervous wreck. And, of course, the principal came in and started correcting my technique and--horrible mess!

09 Feb
This was much better. I realized that even though it's a terribly small class (ten or eleven), the kids don't talk to eachother, they don't know eachother. I opened with a silly ice-breaker game involving throwing things.

Walked them through a related rates problem.

Then I ranted about Math, which I'm good at doing!

Talked about proofs and what they are; did a very quick walk through Relativity (assume that the speed of light is always constant; can mathematically prove time/space distortion near the speed of light!); One Million Beans problem and proof; introduced the (extended) Monty Hall Problem... Just a nice glance at how awesome Math is--although I probably should have included Maxwell's Equations in there... Dang it!

I mean--how awesome is that! This guy just played around with equations, realized he needed two constants so used Epsilon-nought and Mu-nought; and when finally needed to figure out their values so he could find the speed of electric waves and magnetic waves--he gets the friggin' SPEED OF LIGHT. (Further reading)


Sleeeeepy time.
--Charissa

Boobfest IV

Boobfest IV is up on my deviantArt now.

I'm not terribly happy with this one, but I needed to draw again. The colours are off, the skin didn't turn out as I'd wanted, the background is unintelligible and it's generally sloppy and less detailed.

A few things I did differently this time:

• No reference picture used for the pose
  
• The figure is not based on my appearance
  
• This one has a background
  
• This one has long hair (not me)
  
• The body fades out instead of being cut off...

I keep the most recent Boobfest pieces together on my wall. I think IV looks much better when placed with the rest, than by itself.

I kind of want to put up a large sign that says, "WALL OF BOOBS" above them, but if I just fill the wall with boobs, that would be just as obvious.

And, speaking of boobs...


And, speaking of gratuitous...

I watched 300 with Kevin and Mark on Friday.

What is up with that movie?!

If you just watch the end credits, you've seen every fight scene. And if those 300 Spartans are all professional soldiers, why does their drill suck so bad?! And what kind of soldier THROWS his spear so early in ANY battle; and how fierce of a battle could it possibly be if you can actually RECLAIM the spear before it's over?!

Granted, Mark and I came in part-way through the movie, so if there was anything else to the storyline, we missed it.

The entire time, to the annoyance of everyone else, Mark and I were making snarky comments. Like, when Xerxes and Leonidas chat, and afterward Leonidas comes back to his men and is asked how the meeting went, Kevin said, "Oh, y'know, we talked, had coffee--" and I said, "--He put his hands on me and asked me to kneel..."

And--seriously, what is up with Gorgo? "It makes me more of a woman to crave your kingship! The only way for a woman to have power is to have sex with powerful men! I can manage to steal Theron's sword--in public--and run him through with it--in public! Because I'm a woman! Nobody will stop me!"

Before a battle, I'd say, "THE PERSIANS ARE COMING, THE PERSIANS ARE COMING!!" or "Don't you just love how this movie came out in, what, 2006?"

Well, it was fun, at least. And some of the fight choreography wasn't too bad, just... repetitive.


Then we brought out the game Catchphrase, where you try to get someone to say a word/phrase. It's like Taboo (without taboo words), and hot potato, because you don't want to get stuck with the word-wheel-thing when the timer goes. Great fun, especially when drunk!

Last time we played, we'd gotten into the booze. Eventually, Kevin started guessing every other word was Penis.

It was Mark's turn, and he said, "Kay, it's like, methane, and octopus," and Kevin shouted, "METHAPUS! ... PENIS!"

For the word "chopsticks", Mark said, "All Asians use them," and Kevin said, "GLASSES!"

And it was great fun.

--Charissa

Reminiscing

I found my old poetry box from grade twelve English.

I carved it from an old Nintendo system. Heee. My brothers weren't exactly thrilled about that.

But now, two years later, it's amazing.

Mostly, it's amazing what I could write and...create back in those days...

Charissa Reminisces About Highschool

When I was in highschool, I was totally arrogant. I thought I was da shizz. I was invincible; omnipotent; amazing stuff. I wasn't afraid of anything. Whatever I wanted to do was justified by my wanting to do it.

Not so anymore. I don't know what caused that; was it James, was it the Army, was it the lack of school; my desk job reading scripts... I can't talk anymore. I stutter, I stumble, I have no vocabulary. I doubt myself, I'm noncommittal, I'm lethargic.

And I have no social life.


Reflections on the Poetry Box

I made a poetry box in grade nine, too. It looks like a "hat box", people keep telling me, and it's covered in red fabric. On the top is a large piece of white paper with the small-written word "PRETENTIOUS". Hah!

I like the Nintendo box, though.

I was going for a sort of "It is past, but it is to come" or "The past will meet up with you again soon" or "You'll remember me in (fifteen) years."

Contents

Editorial - "FREE Rolex, Viagra and Designer Handbags!!!"
about spam and ham and e-mail stuff.

Short Story - "Alex's Art"

• horrible, horrible piece of crap I squeezed out just before the due-date.

Monologue - "Banquo's Descent"

• portrayed as a typical blog, complete with profile picture, "biography" and calendar of updates.

Narrative Poem - "Stipper and Jo"

• stuffed into the sleeve for a 8 + 1/2 inch floppy disk.

Cinquain - "I hate spam"

• in the pink "e-mail" envelope

Note Poem - "I just wanted to say..."

• in the pink "e-mail" envelope.
  
• our teacher really liked this "I just wanted to say..." concept; as though a poem could be a note left somewhere--or a note left somewhere could be a poem. I have no love for this "poem".

Sonnet - "Sonnet no. 1"

• this really was my first sonnet. I'm so happy it turned out almost exactly as I wanted. My only annoyance is with "Thus, twenty born in time soon die in dearth" which is supposed to mean, "Even though 20 infants are born at the same time, they die in a bad / unfulfilling life.
  
• it is attached to a Lego flying-vehicle, which is a toy of something that doesn't exist yet. I wanted to be sort-of representative of "something from your youth will meet you in the future" and have a sort of "You were once happy--purely and innocently happy. That was called Joy" to fit with that last couplet. Mm.
  

The "Your.Blog.Net" is a monologue. Monologue can be read here; snippets of it can be viewed here (Flash).

Stipper and Jo can be read here, with an explanation at the bottom.

Inside that pink envelope are two poems:

I hate spam, a Cinquain

>>OPEN

Get a FREE car!

Your Diploma Awaits!!

Miss Tiffany Wants to Meet You!!!

>>Delete

and

I just wanted to say...

I have longer hair now
and I'm
some two inches taller.
Mom says I'm getting fat.

I still like Chopin and Ellington
but I've started on Radiohead and
Orbital.
I found your Pink Floyd collection.

see you this summer.

Attached to a Lego^TM ship is a sonnet. It can also be read and appreciated artfully (pfft!) here.

Sonnet no. 1

Wild, screaming and bloody was I at birth,
Where nineteen other mothers might share screams.
Thus, twenty born in time soon die in dearth:
Our lives, all substance, wealth--no thoughts, no dreams.

We're beaten gently by nurses, sometimes
If our independent lungs refuse air.
We cry, bewildered, not knowing our crimes,
Suck in air to cry--we breathe unaware.

We grow, we learn to love, live, and commit;
Somehow, our brains can overcome all frays:
Nights unsleeping; throes of death's counterfeit,
'Til all giv'n effort untangles ablaze.

How'ver wraught with pain and with griefs to cloy,
It is life and I live and it is joy.

In other news

I tried to donate blood again today. Augh, disaster! The nurses poked around my left arm a bit, trying to feel for usable veins/arteries. That took ages. They finally found one, but it was deep down and they were a bit worried. I'm not sure if it was foolish, but I told them to go ahead anyway.

OUCH. She hit a nerve, and it sent a bolt right up to my thumb--like when you "hit your funny bone", except there's a 2mm metal tube sticking into your arm. Ooooch! Out of all the times I've tried to donate, that was the ONLY PAINFUL experience! She withdrew.

After some ice and a brief cool-down, I suggested they try my other arm. My blood-test-doctor is very good and can always get blood out of this one, very visible vein off to the side. Unfortunately, the nurses couldn't feel the vein. Since the alternative was to blindly poke into the centre, I mentioned that, at least you could see this vein!

Well, seeing wasn't enough. They tried, but it just wouldn't bleed fast enough.

I ended the day with a very, very, FRUCKIN' SORE left arm (still hurts when I move too much), and a few millilitres less blood. Fruck!


Sleepy time!
--Charissa

CAMERA at last!

The camera finally arrived, which means I can take pictures again! Further, I can upload pics of the Origami polyhedra I constructed! Here we go!



Left to right:
30-mod (sonobe) stellated icosahedron;
12-mod (sonobe) stellated octahedron;
12-mod (sonobe) cube.


Left to right:
12-mod decoration box; assembled into a 14-box ring;
6-mod (gyroscope) truncated gyroscope (?).


Finally: 6-mod flower-box. It changes from a box to a flower! Amazing!


...Will update more later, maybe.
--Charissa

Quick Sketch

I made this sketch tonight.

On Tuesday, I got this haircut. It's incredibly butch. That's what I wanted.

My parents, however, must think it's a good way of pointing out how different I am from the idea of Girl, and saying how I shouldn't be this way and that I should change and be a good girl.

I hate that. So much.

So, I took a good look at myself in the mirror, and, I liked what I saw! Quickly, I grabbed a board and paper and drew as I saw in the mirror; it shows, with the right hand and the funny posture. But I like this picture. I like my face. I like myself. And I don't have to care who else likes it.

Though, because I like the face so much, I may finish it, one day, holding a bazooka or crossbow or something. Yeah!

--Charissa

Art and Stuff

I realized, the other day, that I'm not making as much art as I would like. And since Autumn passed me by uncaptured (by camera and canvass), I decided the next piece I do will be "epic" and about Autumn! Here's a "sketch" I've made of it in Flash MX.

(I still can't believe Adobe bought Flash... The version I use still says "Macromedia Flash MX" on it.)


New Loading Screen on Intro to Epsilons and Deltas

Also shown here.

Epsilons and Deltas is a little animation that I've been working on for about a year. It's a short story about Math and Love. Awwww. It also features two girls, a strip from xkcd, and La Campanella by Franz Liszt.

The old loading screen didn't have red-bowtie-girl running along the loading bar; she just stationary-ran beside the percent-loaded display, and it looked a little tacky. This one has a nicer "floaty" and "Ooh, numbers!" feel to it, which I don't mind at all! But, we'll see if I can even still improve it...


Other Stuff

My eldest brother went back to school in January, and has asked me to help him out with derivatives! I think I'll do another of those Flash tutorials like in the previous post.

He's also sending over a box of goodies from Germany! There'll be Lebkuchen, my favourite kind, with the candied orange peel inside and wafer on the bottom and either dusted lightly with powdered sugar or coated in chocolate! Mmmm! Also, a digital camera and computer gear!


Events

Nov 01

I'm Employee of the Month! Hoorays, I guess!

Nov 05 (today!)

Grocery shopping. Hells yeah.

Work at the Reserves tonight. Hells yeah...

Should call the bakery to pre-order special bagels.

Should drop by the library to return Dragons in the Water by Madeline l'Engle; and take out another Origami book and Math book.

Nov 06

Meet up with the teacher to lend him the entire S4 Pre-Calculus curriculum... I'm wary of lending that to anyone, and of all people, him...

Should swing by the bakery for more bagels... Mmm, pumpernickel bagels...

Also hoping to spend some good time with my best friend Eric!

Should also swing by the Rainbow Pride group at the university. I haven't been there in ages--mostly because I'm trying to avoid someone.

Nov 09

Kevin's birthday party, at last!

Nov 10

Homo Hop, a queer-oriented social. I'm not sure if I'll go... We'll see.

That's all for now. I should get some work done today.
--Charissa

Checklist and Dream

I want to make a checklist of things never to do as a teacher. The first item on it will be: "End a sentence with 'Right?'" I wonder how obvious is my inspiration.

Never:

• End a sentence with, "Right?"
  
• Ignore advice or suggestions.
  
• Think I know everything.
  
• Think I don't need help doing anything ever.
  
• Touch a whiteboard with my skin.
  
• Lie.
  
• Be half-assed.
  
• Not have a lesson-plan.
  
• Use someone else's lesson plan without going over it beforehand.
  
• Ask if material is either too easy or too hard.
  
• Talk loudly when frustrated.
  

Avoid:

• Talking about teaching when students are nearby and still.
  
• Silencing students--especially when it's not affecting the entire class.
  
• Treating everything as though within my power.
  
• Treating everything as though out of my power.
  
• Talking just outside the classroom door as though it were private.
  

Endeavour to:

• Be available.
  
• Be responsive; quick to respond.
  
• Be helpful.
  
• Be enthused (no problem there!)
  
• Use many methods.
  

I had a dream this morning

I had a dream this morning, about someone from "long-ago". I've blogged about him all over the place, always trying not to use his real name, so I guess I'll do that again. Let's call him Lexus, because he's luxurious in a sort of way.

Backstory:

When highschool started for us, Lexus came to our school for Grade Nine Math although he was in grade eight; and for the rest of my highschool career, it was that way. In grade nine, though, everyone called him smelly and a grade-eight-er and a show-off; and it was mostly true.

From what I've gathered: he played chess competitively until about two years ago; was a lifeguard; was very athletic, being on volleyball and curling teams; played baseball in the summer; had terrible communication skills; liked to be well-read; had an amazing imagination / ability of imaging; and, of course, was fantastic at Math.

Around grade eleven, he joined the school choir, and this is probably when I first noticed him.

I mean, during the annual Jazz festival, I had taken a photo of him sleeping on the bus; and I had already noticed that he played trumpet in a very precise manner and as though there were something very funny--a sarcastic "inside-joke"--to his precision. But I had never paid much attention to him until he joined the choir.

Being one of the few male voices, his seat was near the back, and it happened that he stood almost directly behind me. His voice had the same sarcastic timbre as his trumpet-playing, and Chris once had to point out to Lexus that it isn't by forcing that you sing lower and better tones!

So, I heard his voice more. And I also saw him more (though I'd seen him in Grade Ten Pre-Calculus), and through this, came to be infatuated.

Then, in my graduating year, there was a slight problem in my schedule. Because of the courses I wanted, I was forced to take Pre-Calc before Calculus. Of course, my previous grades and having a father who teaches Math (badly) once a week quickly convinced Admin that this would not be a problem. It so happened that Lexus had the same happen to him.

We took Calculus together, then; and somehow, the three of us with this scheduling conflict sat mostly alone on the same side of the class (it was a small class, about fifteen).

Obviously, he began to mean something to me; I noticed and fell in love with details of him--the way his hair made his eyes sharper; the curve of his nose; the way his facial hair started simply as fuzz on his chin.

I also started a graphic journal, because I wanted to capture details. Fridays were our treat-days, where we all took turns bringing treats. One day, we had chocolate pudding--or maybe Lexus just brought his own, I forget--and he spilled some on his bright yellow shirt. I heard a slight commotion, and turned to see; he and lifted his shirt to his mouth to clean it off; and, lest I be obvious, I had to turn back, when I saw his abs.

I eventually wrote a journal entry, which turned out to be a poem:

Math and Symbols

I'll be sitting in class, and you'll
be behind me, where I can't
mentally undress you.

Not
that it stops me from trying, but
it would be so much more satisfying,
I think,
if I could stare at your body. Or
at your face while you
puzzle over a new problem.

I love that expression on your face:

It's not quite "relaxed",
it's not quite "intense",
but it's almost
pouty,
as though all the
muscles in your face just went dead
and limp like
your entire being
is focused on the problem
and you can't spare the energy to look
awake.

You make me want to shout and sing and
write bad poetry,
but I don't feel words can actually
articulate all that I want
to express.

I want
to write it out in large and esoteric
math and symbols:

"YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF MY MIND, YOU INSPIRE
AND CHALLENGE ME, YOU KEEP ME BURNING, AND
ALSO, YOU ARE GOOD-LOOKING."

But I wonder
what you would think of that,
and, if I gave you that
paper with my heart translated
into math and symbols,
would you find me odd,
and then not
be the same person you
were
in my head?

Eventually, I realized someone was going to notice the way I couldn't even look his direction with a straight face.

I wrote him a letter to a similar effect as the journal entry, mostly pointing out that I found him attractive (mentioning a few to show I was serious); that I just had to tell him because I didn't want rumours; that if he had a significant other, I didn't mean to interfere; that if I was being too bold, he should let me know, because, "since when are you afraid of girls?"

This was pretty disastrous, but not at first.

It was entirely my fault, because he didn't send any sort of reply, and I ruined the whole thing a few days later by first giving him a "secret" note telling him I'd phone tonight, and then phoning.

When I'd been put through to him, he said slowly that he was going to tell me that tonight wouldn't be a good night to call. It was then that I learned he had a girlfriend; and my lack of response betrayed my expectations. I think I managed to say, "Oh," and, after a pause, "Have fun with that". I forget what happened immediately after, but we eventually hung up and nothing was much changed, save that I couldn't look his direction for embarrassment instead of infatuation.

I'm not sure what happened after I graduated. In University, I heard short second-hand stories about how he had a girlfriend, and such-and-such happened to them, so now such-and-such took place. I visited the highschool once--a class he took, too. He made a point of announcing something about his girlfriend--but, at this time, I was dating James anyway.

I've heard from someone he used to play chess against, that perhaps he's now in the University of Waterloo, and wouldn't doubt it, with his brain.

The Dream

The dream was confusing, and I remember only to parts. The first part, there was Lexus, James, some others, and me; and we were at some sort of social gathering; and, for some reason, I had to keep it unknown to James that I had a thing for Lexus; and Lexus was making that very difficult, because he flaunted all the things I'd adored. Somehow, the topic turned to hair and sideburns--not quite sideburns, but the hair that grows over top your ears--and I'd called Lexus a hypocrite because he had that, too; and I'd grabbed him by that hair and I think I kissed him.

The other part was after the party, when Lexus and I were alone for some reason. And I remember thinking to myself, "You're not real, and if you kiss me, it won't feel real--I won't be able to feel your lips, your heat, your movement--and I must really stop imagining you." And hen he kissed me, and it felt entirely real--texture, heat, motion and all. And then he asked me if I wanted him to stop being real, and I don't remember what happened next.

Eventually I awoke, very confused because my mind, body, heart and spirit were all pulling in opposing directions so that even inaction fell into one of them.

I'm not sure what to make of the dream. This is the second dream I've had where someone I either love or am in love with has asked me whether it would be okay to be romantic. If anything, this should be a symbol or warning of my own indecision; but it doesn't help that I know not where to go.


I'm not going to let it worry me too much yet. More urgent is:

Tuesday 09:00 - Fitness test

Wednesday 10:00 - get Army gear!

Friday 18:00 - my "birthday party"!

Adieu!
--Charissa

Boobfest and Private

"What are you doing?"

"Curve-sketching."

"Are those breasts?"

"Your point?"
I've been working on the "Boobfest" series off-and-on; and I'm not yet accustomed to uploading my artwork to this blag yet. So I'll just take a moment here to mention that I've finished Boobfest III.

It's pictured to your right, and if you have a dA account, you may also view it here. It's oil pastel on yellow construction paper.

I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!


Why "Boobfest"?

Well, one night, I made this sketch (pictured to your left; and again, if you have a dA, you can also view it here).

I think I did it mostly for the sake of drawing the naked female form, and then coloured it mostly for practice with oil pastels--the point being that this was an entirely gratuitous and un-planned picture. It's also of terribly low calibre.

A while later, I decided I wanted to do another study of the nude female figure (which isn't unusual for me) but I wanted something of better quality.

One of my artist friends had recently shown me a piece she did in oil pastels on construction paper, and I was eager to try that out for myself. I put more planning into this one (pose, composition, colour) and this was the result, pictured on your right.

Now, I had no idea what to call this, but I was reminded of the "boobfest" sketch from earlier, and could not be inspired to think of a new name, so I called it "Boobfest II". Again, if you have a dA, you may also view it here.

In short: laziness is the reason I'm calling this the "Boobfest Series". I've actually got number IV sketched, but it isn't a nude piece; so I may re-name the series when I've finished that one. I guess I also like the way it's silly.

Whee!



Last night, I got enrolled into the Canadian Forces as a Signal Operator.

I am now a Private (Recruit)! Arr! I mean, YES SIR!

I almost forgot that part of joining the Militia means taking orders and that whole "superiors" thing. I'm not sure how I managed to almost forget that. I wonder, though, if I'm more enthusiastic than I should be? If I'm forgetting that I'll be an inferior, then maybe I've got the wrong ideas. Maybe.


Why I'm in the Military

• I need more structure--especially since I'm not attending school regularly right now.
  
  
• I need to be learning things--especially since I'm not in school right now.
  
  
• I want and need more discipline.
  
  In this specific case, I'd consider "discipline" to be "being able to do well the things I don't necessarily want to do well".
  
  

  I need to find out who I am.
  

  I have a basic idea; but, I feel that if I'm not challenged, I won't know more fully.
  
  

  I want more personal strength.
  

  My best friend has told me that I'm "hardy", which means: if he were to stick me in a large pit of destruction, I would survive; last a longer time than most people; something like that. And, I feel that one of my "callings" is to be a hardy person; as hardy as I can be.
  
  

  I need to get out of this house.
  

  I live with my parents, but it's too sheltered, and I'm not independent of them when it comes to soft things. I still ask my mom what pants I should wear; if my father says something carelessly, I might be greatly upset by it; if I'm going to be home late, I worry that my folks are worrying.

  
  

  I feel that physical distance would be the best cure for this.

  
  

  I want more training (which would be the combination of education and practice).
  

Those are the important ones--to me, at least. Less important would be:

• I could use the work-out.
  
• Communications involves Math (and we all know I wuvs Math!).
  
• I get to play with impressive and nifty machinery!
  
• Army buddies! Also: lesbians!
  
• Doing important things both locally (Canada) and internationally!

I think that's all from me tonight. I'm trying to get into a better habit of blogging; but I also want to get into a better sleeping routine. Right now it's more "go to sleep whenever-the-hell I feel" and "wake up before 13:00", which isn't very disciplined.

So, I'm off for tonight. I've spent just over 24 hours as a Private, and I've gotta say, it doesn't feel much different yet. I guess it's like turning eighteen, and you're suddenly considered an adult; but nothing feels different yet. So I'll grow into a Private the way I'm (hopefully) growing into an adult.

Speaking of which: I've been scheduled to get my army gear on October 24th, which is just five days before my birthday! So it'll be like a great-big birthday present! Hopefully!

--Charissa

I look most like a man when I get out of the shower.

Nobody gets to see me at my manliest. Sheesh!


I recently drew an awesome picture of the naked female form (shown on the right). It's oil pastel on blue construction paper. If you have a dA acccount, you can also view it here.

My good friend, Jupiter Kid, just got back from a trip to Montreal; and he took a great picture of the skyline. He's lending me a print of it so I can reproduce with oil pastels on construction paper (same style as I used for the above pic). Woots!

That's about it for now. I'm tired, mostly; which isn't uncommon. Maybe later, I'll upload the drawing to this blog.

Cheers,
--Charissa