My Brood

Just a quick heads up before I get started, boys and girls:  We've rebooted our (largely) NFB blog, The Recorded North.  You can go there to keep up to date with what's going down at the NFB in this new cutthroat climate.  I'll be posting videos, articles, and some of my old historical work.  Enjoy!

Now that I've got a space for my boiling and roiling Canadian arts and culture opinions, I can keep this space about clothes and travel and other fluffy stuff.

I say that, and then I put together this outfit solely to expound upon one particular facet of the Canadian arts whom I love: the band, Elliott BROOD.

I've listened to these guys for a few years now, and earlier this year they came out with a blinding album, titled Days into Years (I wrote about their concert here).  However, just this past week I heard this interview that the group did with PRI's The World about the inspiration for the album.  Man, I thought I loved them before?  Well upon hearing that Days into Years was inspired by their travels through Europe, encountering remnants of the First World War, and trying to put the thoughts and feelings of Canadian soldiers into song, boys and girls I'm not afraid to say I fell SO. MUCH. MORE in love with the band and the album.

Take for instance the song Hold You.  At first I though it was an, albeit morbid, love song between a family and a dying parent, friend, or compatriot.  When you listen to it with your WWI headphones on though, it's clear that verses such as "I'll hold you in my arms until the wound subsides / Come now to the darkness, and pray for the coming light / We know now that she's coming, hear the rattle in your lungs / We know now that you'll never make the coming light of dawn," are about a soldier dying in a fellow soldier's arms.  They elucidate upon this much more clearly in the interview than I could, but suffice to say I am moved, touched, and heartened that there are artists out there who care about preserving these memories just as much as I do.

And so what do I do to cement my love of this album and this band?  Why I wear their t-shirt and take pictures of myself in it:

T-Shirt: Elliott BROOD Merch
Jeans: Old Navy
Sandals: Hand-me-downs from my aunt
Sunglasses: H&M

Seriously though, boys and girls, it's a really great album and they're a really great band.  If I were to get a tattoo it would definitely read CANCON4EVA.

Love,

Your friend Lina 

The NFB and Me

Alright guys, this is not going to be a fluffy post about some stuff I like.  Today I'm going to be using BBF as a platform for some heady political stuff that's hitting close to home.

Now, I know you're not all Canadians, so maybe this won't be for you, but my Canadian pals, here's what's up.  The National Film Board of Canada is an independent and publicly funded film corporation that has been in existence in Canada since the Second World War, when John Grierson came over from Scotland to set it up.  At that time the NFB was known as the Wartime Information Board, and really its only job was to create and disseminate propaganda.

Following World War II, however, the NFB continued to thrive as a bastion of Canadian culture.  They made films to recruit immigrants to Canada (I did my Honours thesis on those films), they funded independent filmmakers making works in their own regions, and they disseminated them across the land for free.  The NFB was the home of Norman MacLaren, one of the pioneers of the animation art form.  They've been able to support filmmakers with (or without) a message, making sure that not everyone need turn to studios or investors or advertisers in order to get their art out there.  Remember, Canada is a HUGE place with not a huge population.  So to sustain and maintain an institution like the NFB is an incredible feat and they've left an incredible legacy.

Until now.  The NFB has just announced that they will be closing their two main public cinemas in Toronto and Montreal due to budget cuts doled out by the Conservative government.  In doing so, they're cutting off the last person-to-person connection the public has with the entire catalogue that the Board has to offer.  It's true, in the past few years the NFB has done INCREDIBLE work putting their archives on line, and their interface is extraordinary.  The wealth of information that is available on their website is monumental.  However, it is only a fraction of their archives.

For a history student like myself, who is about to embark upon a Master's degree which will rely heavily on NFB materials, these cuts are devastating.  For the Honours thesis that I wrote, 70% of the material I sourced came from the Cinerobotheque on St. Denis.  I was watching some pretty obscure stuff that wouldn't necessarily be entertainment or be artistically uplifting to the public at large.  However, being granted free access to that archival material meant that I got to delve into, and paint a picture of, 1950s Canada that hadn't been delved into or painted before.  By shutting down these edifices the sort of work that I want to do, or any other project imaginable for any other person imaginable, is being cut off and dried up.

Not to mention the near 100 jobs that are being made redundant by these closures.

So here's where I'm coming to you.  If you grew up watching The Log Driver's Waltz, The Sweater, or The Big Snit (even if you didn't, go watch them now, they're wonderful); if you've been blown away by any of the recent internationally acclaimed films that the NFB have facilitated; or if you believe in the public institutions of Canada, please take a look at this letter.  If you are moved to stand up to your government and voice your displeasure, dissatisfaction, and disgust at the turn this government is taking towards the arts, maybe you'll consider penning one of your own.  I already did so today, and will continue to do so until I hear more about how I can help save this hallowed - at least for me - institution.

Sincerely,

Lina

P.S. Here's a link to a blog two friends and I made last year for our Canadian Film class.  We've got some more background on what the NFB is about, and some links to the more documentarian side of films produced there.

Go West!

Yes! Finally! Boys and girls, I'm about to embark on a little trip and I just can't wait!

Y'all know I'm at my absolute finest when I'm travelling.  And I'm at my equal, yet different, finest when I'm hanging out with my family.  And this coming week I'm combining the two!

The whole family is heading out West to be with my sister and her husband for Easter.  First, though, my brother and I are sight-seeing in Vancouver and spending some time with my sister in Victoria before my parents arrive.  When my parents get there (from their own little trip in Arizona), we'll be heading to a cabin on Salt Spring Island tout en famille (plus an extra aunt and some of my sister's oldest friends).

Despite throwing my knee out at work yesterday, I'm super excited.  I've twisted my knee pretty bad a few times before, so I know the protocol of constant icing, wearing a brace, and hobbling about.  I'm pretty bummed that I won't be able to take hikes with the family, but I should be ok to take walks around the city.  My brother even said that we could rent a tandem bike in Stanley Park and that I could just come along for the ride.  I can already tell it's going to be a memorable trip!

Just a few of the (too many) things I'm packing

Jean Shirt - H&M
Lace Shirt - Forever 21
Striped Circle Scarf - American Apparel
Green Sweater - Thrifted
Silk Scarf - Thrifted

Apparently the weather out there is only going to be a smidge warmer than here, but that's ok with me!  The knee brace I've got is a bit of a monstrosity, so better for me to be able to cover it up with pants and leggings than have it's black and red glaring against my alabaster legs.

Seriously thought dudes.  I've only ever seen mountains from the Alberta side, and I was six so it doesn't count.  I've NEVER seen the Pacific Ocean.  I. AM. SO. EXCITED.

I'll send postcards!

Love,

Your friend Lina 

It Just Takes a Little Inspiration

To get you going, doesn't it, boys and girls?

I've long been at sixes and sevens about the word "inspiration", and variants therein, that seem to be a permanent part of the blogger's lexicon.  It always struck me as something a little cheesy.  Kind of like how "awesome" should be something that inspires (there it is again) great awe.  But instead it just means cool or alright or sounds good.  (And I'm totally guilty of using it in those ways, btw.)  I feel like Michaelangelo was inspired, whereas me liking other blog lady's outfits and wanting to wear my own version of them doesn't quite cut it for the gravitas that "inspire" should engender.

I say all this, but then I see this outfit on one of my all-time favourite blogs and I leap to post something I've been putting off for a while now.  So I guess I am "inspired" by other bloggers.  And I should just get used to being a little less guarded and a little more enthusiastic about jumping into blogland and its lexicon.

All this to say, I don't normally wear t-shirts.  Or jeans.  Or high-waisted jeans for that matter.  But gosh darnit, if Emily at Ruby Slipper Journeys can wear jeans and a t-shirt in real life and blog life then I can too!

I wore this to have coffee with one of my best friends in the whole entire world before she went back to New York for her last semester.  I probably wouldn't feel comfortable wearing this out out, but for a long, languid afternoon buried deep in a neighbourhood coffeeshop with people I love and who have seen me much more dressed down, it fit the bill:

T-Shirt - Victoire
Cardigan - Primark
Belt - Forever 21
Jeans - American Apparel
Necklace - Forever 21
Shoes - Who needs shoes?!

Victoire has to be my favourite store.  Not only is every piece in their two stores expertly curated (they're the vintage of tomorrow they say of themselves, and I can't help but agree!), but I want to live in the shops as well.  They've got the perfect amalgam of retro Canadiana (including this old Ottawa crest on this t), cozy grandma's den, and rustic farmhouse going on.  Their Wellington West location is - very dangerously - right across the street from where I work so it's not that hard to head over during my break and spend what I've just earned!

This necklace has a special place in my wardrobe as well, despite being from a big conglomerate rather than a local endeavour.  At my cottage we have a whistle just like this one to call people up to the cottage whenever we're scattered around the island.  The week after I bought it I was seeing my cousin off to Wales, so I got her one as well (the cottage is shared by that entire side of the family).  Now not only is it a little memento for my favourite place on the earth, but also a BFF necklace for me and my cousin.  And a little reminder to her (I hope) that wherever we may find ourselves on this great green earth, one blast on the whistle and we'll all be together :)

Love,

Your friend Lina

Canada is for Parkas

If Paris is for lovers, then Ottawa is for Parka-wearers, boys and girls.

I mean, I'm sure there are lots of romantics in Ottawa too.  But it's hard to express those feelings when it's -20 and colder outside, you know what I'm saying?  Doesn't matter if you're in Paris, Ottawa, or the blend-of-the-two, Quebec City, that I'm in in these pictures.

So this, boys and girls, is my parka.  It's like wearing a sleeping bag.  Which is more necessary and less cumbersome than you would imagine.

I had a red one a few years back that had mange on the hood, the stuffing all fell to the bottom, and the zipper was broken.  Which meant I had to step in and out of it.  And can I tell you, that's pretty hard to do in a giant lecture hall.

Through the grace of good friends who bought fancier coats, I inherited this beauty to replace ol' red.  The hood is still in furry glory, the stuffing is where it's supposed to be, and the zipper does as I tell it.  It's a very good little parka, and in exchange for my fondness, it keeps me warm when mother nature is telling you not to go outside.

So warm that you don't even need a scarf or hat!  Now that's a COAT.

Take that, mother nature.  I don't listen to nobody, not no how.

Homage to my friend Clara

Hooray for fur-lined hoods!

I love cannons.  And matching the relief on my parka.

I also love Winston Spencer Churchill.

Because we look the same.

Parka - Hand-me-down from a friend
Mittens - Church rummage sale
Tights - two pairs, American Apparel
Boots - foolish of me, should have brought my Sorels, Chinese Laundry

So don't go outside without one, boys and girls.  Together, we can enjoy winter!

Love,

Your friend Lina

Famous Folks and Famous Places

I shouldn't have let my head get all inflated with the rapidity of my last posts. I am obviously terrible at this. And this post will be a monster, so I hope whatever you have stopped doing isn't that important cause you're in for a doozy.

(Jeez, Lina, you're not that interesting. You've just met some people we've never heard of and then stood in fields and towns.)

So it all starts the day after I got back from Snowdonia. The Bristol Festival of Ideas was in full swing, and their event for the evening was hosting possibly the second most exciting person for me to see whilst on this small Island. St George's (either a current or former Cathedral a block from where I live) was hosting Alan Davies! I went to see him alone for QI has very much not caught on with any of my friends here yet, though I have found an ally in Ariana's roommate Damien for the future. Either way, he was mostly interviewed about his book, which I would like to read but is a bit expensive and about a time period from way before I was born but hey ho such is life, and he also answered some questions about QI and Jonathan Creek. At the bit of Q&A they had at the end someone asked if ever there was anyone on QI who he didn't really get along with. This prompted a nice little tid-bit in that most of the people on the show (he named Jo Brand, Sean Locke, Bill Bailey, and Phill Jupitus) used to all do comedy together in the 80s when they were all unknowns. That makes those episodes sort of a reunion which is why they seem like such fun. Without naming names, he did say that if someone has only been on the show once, with the exception of Pam Ayres, it means they are "a bit of a twat". My other favourite from the evening was prompted from someone asking him whether he was happy with the celebrity that has come from Jonathan Creek and QI. He said "I live in the first world and I'm employed so I can already say that I'm pretty happy. Also, everyone I know, literally every last person I know wants to meet Stephen Fry, so that's not too bad either." Got right to the heart of the matter for me. Afterwards he stuck around to sign copies of his book. I didn't have one, but he was kind enough to sign my black book whist I stared at him adoringly and in awe. Afterwards I had to look at pictures to believe it had happened. It was madness, I was so star-struck. Hoy. Cool.

Later that week brought the royal we to Halloween. It wasn't the biggest of deals here cause they are dressed-up (in "fancy dress") all the time here anyway. Honestly, I see roving bands of smurfs all the time as they roll from pub to pub. Either way, us Study-Abroaders all got together, got dolled up, and then spent the night as we often do: pre-drinking, then roving from house to house to venue to venue. We had to come back and pour some members of the party to bed earlier on, but then the real survivors of the group got some lovely food from the chippy, sat down on the docks by the harbour, and witnessed our friends running through the fountain. All in all a good time. I didn't get to be any of the propaganda girls I wanted to be (either Rosie or Victory Bonds) because I left it too late and I don't think they had the same propaganda we did so it wouldn't have been understood. C'est la vie. At least my costume allowed me to buy a dress I had been wanting for a while anyway.

Unfortunately, boys and girls, things slowed down after that because I had a monster paper and a presentation due the following week, so unless you want to hear about my opinions on the various libraries at the University of Bristol (Wills is obviously nicer, but not open as long as Arts and Social Sciences [that's right, ASS], nor with the resources I need. . . .) I'll stop now.

Two nights ago, my first proper night out since I finished the paper, Beatrice took us to Itchy Feet. Itchy Feet is held once a month a club farther than I have gone before (called Lakota, which, to North Americans, is a gimmicky topical pain reliever rather than a rockin' good time), which plays mostly 50s and 60s music. The DJ of course dropped some Michael Jackson and the remix of RESPECT which made it horrible to sing along to, but a good time was had by all. The night had started with snooker and conversation at a pub with other Study Abroadsters and UBESies and ultimately finished with Chips and Cheese with Burger Sauce (I KNOW) from the Hunger Hatch, so was quite profitable if indeed financially draining.

Last night saw me towards a FANTASTIC night of Canadiana. Dan Mangan, quite the hot guy in town in the alt-folk-indie-rock (yogurt on a street in Montreal) scene in Canada, was playing at a local pub in Bristol. Opening for him was another Vancouverite, Jimmy Goodrich, followed by two Brits, Stanton Delaplane and Jack Cheshire. Jack Cheshire was fantastic, he definitely will be one to watch for in the next couple years. I give him this generous time span because when we bought his album it was a three-song EP on a burnable disk that he had scrawled on, but the songs contained in were lovely of course. I'm being bad with chronology though.

The show started at 7:30, so, cause we were keen (I was there with fellow Canadians Brendan, Ariana, and Marika) we showed up while they were still setting up, thoroughly making fools of ourselves yet getting to talk to Dan a bit. When they were ready, we were some of the first people up there (second floor of the pub, about the size of a living room), and so got some awesome seats. Brendan and I bought copies of his new album "Nice, Nice, Very Nice" which he then signed for us. The rest of the folks played, fantastically. Jack Cheshire, who was the second-to-last performer was from Bristol, and, as it turned out, much of the crowd were there to see him. Thus, when it was Dan's turn to play a bunch of the audience had left, save for a loyal group of Canadians (other than ourselves). He was entirely charming and personable, joking and chatting with us throughout (joking that, unlike the other cats who had sung before him, if he tried to loop over himself as Stanton Delaplane had done he would just sounds like a "gravelly bag of rocks"). He was very heartfelt with his performance, almost bringing me to tears when singing a song about grandparents getting old, and putting on SUCH a good performance of Robots, my favourite song of his. He really played up Canada, ie played well to the crowd of ex-pats, and seemed to have sincerely enjoyed himself, which I hope is true cause I sure did.

In response to my night of hyper-Canadiana, I then had a day of super-Britannia with Ariana. She had sussed out a tour that took us from Bath 'round to Stonehenge, Avebury, Lacock, and Castle Combe, all quintessential sights and sounds of the Southwest. We were only in Bath for about half-an-hour before our tour picked us up, but I was smitten just then. The weather was beautiful, just the right temperature and sunny but with idyllic clouds, so I will very much have to go back soon and spend a day there. We hopped onto the mini-bus with other super-tourists like ourselves from the States, Australia, and China. Our tour-guide was the grandfatherly and utterly charming Charles who was knowledgeable and kind. I've had some very bad experiences with tour guides in the past, but he was absolutely what you would want in such a character. He first took us to Stonehenge, explaining local histories and little tid-bits about the environs all the while of the hour-long drive.

To those who have said that Stonehenge is not as impressive in person, poo-poo to you sirs and madams. I was entirely impressed. I admit, it was smaller than it seems to be in popular imagination, but the sheer size and fame and inexplicability of them overwhelmed me. We were given an hour to walk around the henge (the distance of which would take about 10 minutes to walk), but Ariana and I were still the last ones on the bus. We got an excellent combination of sunny and cold and windy and rainy, all conditions British. I took altogether too many photos to be of interest to anyone else, but when will I be there again? Stunning. It was then back onto the minibus and off to Avebury.

The whole of the town of Avebury is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Throughout the town are stone circles dating from prehistory, similar in ilk to Stonehenge. These stones were a bit more ravaged by time, weather, politics, and religion than Stonehenge, so fewer of them remain. Stillawesome though. They are sort of hard to explain in a blog post in that to the casual observer they look like a big pile of rocks in a circle but when one is actually there one finds oneself fascinated. Or in my case romantically inclined? Lies, I stole this photo from Ariana who has an academic and romantic love for Avebury of which I could not compare, but I did like it very much.

After Avebury we were taken to Lacock, famous for being in the movie-films. The whole of the town is no more than on block square, but because it was so very old is often used as a set. One of the streets was used in the Sixth Harry Potter as Hogsmeade, and one of the homes was used as the former home of Lily and James Potter. Another one of the streets was used in the BBC's Pride and Prejudice as well as a recent Dame Judy Dench period piece. Aside from taking pictures of all these streets and ducking into the (which he ate and donated to the) National Trust shop pretending to be interested in shortbread whilst avoiding the icy rain, we had a charming pub lunch in a pub that has had its license since the 1300s. I mean, really.

Our final stop of the day took us to Castle Combe in the Cotswolds. This village used to be big in the wool industry, but entered a slump which devastated the growth of the town. Therefore, to this day, it is one street long, and the only people who can afford to live there are wealthy commuters. To that end though, the town is pretty much perfectly preserved. We were shown around the church which was built in the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries, and then given free reign to walk down the one street and have a gander of the creek, which we duly did, posing along the way. I again was, of course, thorough charmed. Also by this time though I was throughout wet and cold, and so hopping back on to the minibus for a half-hour drive through misty but idyllic countryside was not frowned upon.

Therefore, to sum up: I like England and the People in it.

And I like you too.

Love,

Your friend Lina