Gifts from a boy...

(Photo Credit: Taken by me :))

I read an interesting article yesterday. Of course, the article was based on the ever-popular Valentine's Day. The only reason I opened it up is because it came from National Geographic - an odd source for a Valentine's article, I thought at least. But my nerdy habits have me checking the National Geographic website almost daily and I couldn't help but feed the temptation to read the blurb about a holiday that isn't really a holiday. And of course it was something ridiculous.

Did you know that Valentine's Day was actually a pagan holiday before Christians took it over? I'm sure you aren't surprised considering that is how many other holidays came to be. Apparently on this day, in ancient Rome, men would strip naked, use a whip either made from goat or dog skin and "spanked" women in hopes it would improve their fertility. The day was called "Lupercalia". I am a little relieved practice no longer exists. It is interesting to see how far Valentine's Day has evolved since then. Now it's about romance, making sure your significant other is showered with gifts and love.

I've always been somewhat neutral to the celebration. When I was younger it was a much bigger deal. Up until I was 15 Valentine's Day was huge. Who didn't love giving your entire kindergarten class Valentine's and receiving a bag full of your own? Or the kids' parents who made treats, that was always the best. And then of course as I grew Valentine's Day became a staple in any young teenage relationship. I remember the hand-made card my very first boyfriend gave me on my first Valentine's day with a significant other. And I also remember being 16 and shovelling ice cream down my throat with my best friend as we spent the day single but together. After that, it didn't seem like a big deal. No ex-boyfriend of mine really dedicated time or effort to the day and who can blame them? To be honest, I'd rather get flowers, or chocolates, or dinner out for no reason than feel like he was forced into it by the pressure of society. Of course, those things have never happened to me either, but still.

My primary love language happens to be Words of Affirmation. I know a lot of people don't believe in that stuff but it is most certainly true for me. As much as gifts, quality time, physical touch and acts of service are things that are important to me, words of affirmation comes first. I love to give gifts, I feel it is a way to show appreciation, but my favourite form of a gift is something hand-made and drowning in meaningful words. I don't need grand gestures or fancy items, though those things are nice, all I need is a card with warm, heart-felt words hand-written inside and I am ecstatic. It is interesting to see love languages collide and manage to work together. For example, my boyfriend's is definitely Acts of Service. He has done so many things - large and small - that I have lost count. I appreciate every action, I try to recognize every action, and I try to thank him for it. Even carrying my bags to the house when he drops me off is something to take note of. He just glows at the opportunity to do something for someone else. And I know he appreciates it when I do something small in return- like make him a coffee or grab him dessert without asking. I'm not sure this is my strongest form of showing love - probably not since I'm a wordy-kinda-person, but I like to think I try. But what I want to praise here is his effort to use mine. No, he hasn't written me love letters or fancy cards, but he reminds me on a daily basis that he loves me, that I'm beautiful, and I'm a wonderful person all around. He makes sure to reassure me when I need it, even if I have to express that I need it, and he does it with ease and without hesitation or irritation. His patience with me seems endless and I honestly don't know how he does it. The items depicted above are a combination of my birthday and Christmas. I love them, they are perfectly suited for me and well-thought out. But they are only a small representation of the wonderful things he gives me all the time. So I suppose this is a Valentine's Day post - a post to recognize and appreciate the significant other in my life who is more than good to me. We may not do things the traditional way - we didn't "celebrate" Valentine's Day as a romantic day, instead we had heart shaped pizzas with my best friends - but I know what we have is meaningful. And no Hallmark company is going to tell me otherwise.

Charging Buffalos

(Photo/Drawing: by me)

I have decided to take a course! It is mostly to push me back into doing something that I have always loved to do. I stumbled across it while surfing the Algonquin website for the kicks. Of course the title, "Drawing at the museum of Nature" caught my eye instantly. A combination of two loves? Yes please.

Since high school my artistic drive has gone out the window. Not because I allowed my passion to die but simply because it was swallowed by the mass amount of papers, reading and studying caused by University. I was taught other things, refined my writing skills (or so I hope to believe) and expanded my view of the world in general. But time was not something I had the luxury of. I didn't read for fun, I didn't pick up my pencils and draw for hours, I didn't pull out my easel on a whim... none of those things were options. I'm not really complaining, any spare time I did have I spent sleeping or trying to be social and I think those things are important too. University was rewarding in many ways and I parted with new skills under my belt. But old habits die hard and the art bug has reared it's ugly head once more.

I suppose it would be unfair to say that I left all arts behind once I embarked on my University adventure. I did scrapbook, and scrapbook I did. Hours poured into sorting, organizing, glueing and designing pages of pictures and cut outs. It was easy to lose myself in it, feed my nostalgic side and ease the stress of life weighing down on me. It was something new and different that I temporarily replaced drawing and painting with. It was easy to drop in a second and pick up in a moment. It isn't that easy with other mediums.

So I have decided to take a course. A course that will help me refine my skills and re-teach me many of the things I have forgotten as my talent whittled with age. So far so good, I think. I was worried I would walk in there and forget how to draw the basic shapes. That I had lost all the experience I gathered over the years and reverted back to childhood drawings. I think I did alright, not wonderful or anything, but I was never an amazing artist to begin with. The sketch above was the first attempt that class. I moved onto a moose, a more detailed buffalo and even the head of a bison. They were all mediocre but better than I had hoped. The charcoal and graphite sticks just moved instinctively, as if I were born holding them. Despite the screaming children, the playful toddlers, and the photo-clicking tourists I was able to focus. I would like to say I'm an already focused person. But the real focus, the deep concentration, has only ever come through art. I'm lost in it, found in it, and live in it. There's a sense of invincibility that comes with it. The surrounding world can't touch me and I can live in a space available only to me. The sensation is freeing.

I have found my calm. A calm otherwise only provided by God and maybe even this is God's way of giving it more easily to me. Otherwise, outside of that element I am more like.... a charging buffalo.