tim’s thought property

Today I stopped by the mall to see Brianna at work. When I returned to my car, I had started it, and turned to see the glove box opened. Now, in all calmness, I thought that the latch broke, since the Passat is a junky car. But, I saw that my Sufjan Christmas CD was gone and my backpack missing from the passenger seat.
Two things struck me as odd, 1) the glove box open, and my CD wallet still in it, with all its cds; and 2) my light-weight, and virtually empty backpack stolen. I’m not mad so much as I am disappointed. In the backpack was my $.99 copy of Moby Dick, my $10 copy of Geez magazine (bought out of curiosity, and the publication of a friend’s article), and likely my relatively new pocket Bible (bought for the convenience of weight). What I am the most aggravated at is the loss of my journal, which I’ve had for almost four years. I’ve covered all of my year on Sod, my Internship and last year within it, and as journals go, its personal, meaningful and absolutely worthless to a stranger. I hoped that perhaps anything from this backpack could be found on the ground in the surrounding area. No such luck.

As I drove home, I was thinking of how I would be accepting to let anything go from that ‘haul’, except my journal. I mean, I can replace everything else - its all material. But whats in my journal is a stock of personal memories, prayers, frustrations and hopes, general growth stuff.
As I was trying to put a better light on things, I thought how anything could be useful. I mean, a bag is handy. You could read Moby Dick, the magazine or my journal (if the first two weren’t enjoyable enough) or use the books as fire starters. What’s the point in getting angry about it anyhow? Getting mad at an unknown figure, who would end up serving as a scapegoat for the neighbourhood wouldn’t make things different. Reporting a minor loss as a backpack and some books would only really recover the bag, if that. So what am I left with? Get mad for the loss of my personal recorded memories? I suppose. That seems as good a reason as any.

I don’t know. I feel defeated. Perhaps this can be a clean slate to start from. A new journal to begin, and record in (this will be journal from last Christmas, Sarah); new lessons in keeping my belongings in check; and maybe even some third thing. I’m not sure.

The Holidays are here.
Christmas time with the joy of the season. Or perhaps frustration, depending on your disposition. I’ve been in an ongoing discussion with a co-worker about holiday music, and what is good or tacky. Both of us are Sufjan Stevens fans, and we’ve both acquired his compiled Songs for Christmas collection. For those who are not in ‘the know‘, Sufjan is a very ambitious and talented multi-instrumentalist/singer-songwriter, who has carved a niche in the ears and CD collections of the college age and hipsters alike. He has released a short Christmas EP every year for the last five years and has compiled them into a very affordable boxed set for this season.

With Sufjan’s holiday blitz in my collection, I have thought of what other holiday CDs would I like to have. Being a very slender market for selling themed music, a Christmas album is a hard sell, I figure. Why pay money for something you’d likely only listen to one month of the year? That is a very good question and is the reason why I have not bought any others.
I have a certain fondness for all the Christmas albums I’ve heard growing up, from Michael Card, to Tom Jackson, to Boney M (the ubiquitous, in my case) and the quintessential, Roger Whitaker’s The Christmas Song. All of these albums bring to mind Christmas memories, like family and cookies; presents and sweaters; Lego and cousins. It’s the only reason Boney M has a place in my heart, because it is so carefully tied to nostalgia. These are what my parents and family have all bought to help them celebrate the holiday feeling.
As I continue to grow up, I begin to think of what my musical traditions will be, that my children will recollect. I heard Barenaked for the Holidays last Christmas, and I really enjoyed it. I could see some day in the future, my own children opening their presents while Steven Page sings out about Auld Lang Syne, or them drinking Eggnog, wearing little Santa hats, hearing about Royal David’s City from the voice of Sufjan.
With contemporary singers re-working classic ’secular’ songs, and traditional ‘religious’ songs, it gives me a hazy feeling of warmth. That kind of foggy happiness at the thought that someone out there is trying to continue a tradition of song, to give to others. Setting aside the lucrative industry of Holiday, one can potentially see the warmth of giving, even through this foggy happiness.

After all that, I pose a question to you, dear reader. What are some of your favourite Christmas songs?
This is intended to be an interactive forum post, so I’ll make the criteria simple.

List for me:
1. Your favourite Traditional Christmas song or collection(be it hymn, or carol, or certain Messiah rendition. Basically something older than the last 50 years, even if it’s sung by a contemporary artist.)
2. Your favourite Contemporary Christmas song or album (that can be anything put out since 1945)
3. Your favourite Nostalgic/Kitschy/Guilty-Pleasure Christmas song or album (the kind, like Boney M, that has a place in your heart, but not in your logical head.)

With this, perhaps we can construct some kind of monster holiday song-list extravaganza.
Or at least understand some of the nuances of one another.

My face-less self portrait assignment is completed, and handed in. Regrettably, I do not have a picture of the accompanying piece, but I feel it was rather rushed, not really on par with the large one.

Without further ado, I present you with the fruit of my labours. I would wager it to be close to 25 hours of painting, combining the class time and the homework time. Even when painting, I found that the technique changing quite a bit from beginning to end. And then the whole issue of colour stepped into play, and that, dear readers was overwhelming.
You see, it’s one thing to balance a composition with space, form and objects. Adding colour brings in a whole range of complementary and contrasts; warm and cool temperatures; the domination of certain colours and even the mix of colours with that of neighbouring colours. Many times I had to step back and look to see if the picture was correct from afar, rather than from nose-level with the piece.
Even though it was a mental challenge like I had never come across before, I found it a good stretch. To be able to view and consider a painting from three viewpoints, while making it; combined with mixing and blending on the piece itself and the consideration of how colour reacts to those around it. I realize that this can sound like artist mumbo-jumbo, but I really do want to share what I’ve been learning. If you’ve read this and are even remotely interested at what I’m saying, then thank you. If you’re bored and waiting for me to talk less ‘art’, then bear with me. I have a few more ‘arty’ pieces to tell you all about.

Everything shown in the piece has some connection to my development and character in the last five years. Those who know me can likely figure out much of it, but if you want any clarification at all, just say so, and I’ll gladly explain.

This will be the last piece of work I’ll discuss from the Minneapolis Institute of the Arts. After all, the field trip was two months ago now, and all this “current” news is as stale as a Chris Rock comedy routine.

One of the pairs of art we had to compare were a sculpture and ceramic work. As I had left the Impressionist wing, I wandered past the rooms of furniture and glass work, and was going to the Medieval Gallery. When I turned the corner I saw this amazing view of the marble staircase, and at it’s end was the mighty statue of St. Paul the Hermit or St. Onofrious.
It was powerful from afar, but close up he was even more magnificent.

My slow, meandering pace had slowed even more by this time, and I was nearly at a stand-still when I came to the information plaque. Carved by Francesco Mochi, circa 1630-1640, it was thought that this statue was part in a series of Saints for placement in a nobleman’s garden. The statue was around eight or nine feet tall, with it’s large hands together in prayer. The Saint’s face had a look of stoicism, but changing the few to face him head on, he seemed a bit forlorn. I had never been so captivated by a sculpture before. I think the drama in his pose and the movement in his hair and leafy robe contributed to this dynamism.
There is so much that can be conveyed through art, it fascinates me all the time. To think that someone was able to conceive this notion, translate it into stone, and still keep the feel of life - it blows me away. It can be hard enough with pencil, paint, even in photograph to capture the life of reality.

Before our trip, we were told that to see art up close and in person was an experience like no other.
I had no idea to what extent that would be true. And to tell you all the same words, still does not convey their truth. There is something so powerful and tangible in being able to observe an actual carving, or masterpiece in person. It was humbling. GOD created man, then man created likenesses of everything. And man was able to do a very convincing job at emulating what GOD had created. I never want to forget that I was created with the ability to create, and there is a reason and greater source behind what I am or ever will be capable of.

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- St. Paul the Hermit or St. Onofrious, by Francesco Mochi, c.1630-164o