LOOKING BEYOND

`````A number of years ago, I visited a small museum attached to the Ursulines Convent in Quebec City. I was looking at a tapestry when an elderly nun approached me and began to explain its history. It had taken years and years to make, with literally several people working on it. I studied it and could see no breaks in its needlework at all. The museum featured an exhibit of the living condition of the nuns; it was not lavish. I could picture them over the years---hunched over the tapestry in silence or prayer as their hands set to work. Unlike for most women, it would not hang on the walls of a home to be passed down from one generation to another. Then, one day, I went to hear them sing. I say that I went to listen, as one could not observe them, for they were cloistered. The church was in an L shape, and where they sang was not observable to us. The choir was incredible. In not being able to look at them, it was solely the voices that became the focus.

````` I started to think about the concept of an entire society that worked that way; one that wasn't based on how everything looked and packaging. All of our films today are solely driven by CGI and not plot or acting. The leads are often ex-models. Acting skills aren't really that important anymore. Look how quickly Meagan Fox was replaced when she got out of line. There's a lot of good looking women in Hollywood.

`````I doubt that in today's society a person like Janis Joplin would make it. Sure, somebody like Beth Ditto can have a following in a small market, but she is certainly not mainstream. Joplin was huge in the l960's, when people were more accepting of physical imperfections. Now, a size six is seen has over-weight and will be air-brushed. In fact, Katy Perry was recently air-brushed on the cover of "Rolling Stone" magazine. This was once a counter culture magazine and would never have considered doing something like that. No, what sells now is mediocre as long as it looks good. Think Shania Twain and her belly button. All of the top selling songs sound exactly the same.

`````I just read a study which stated that kids who bully get away with it because they look good. This research suggested what I always knew. Nobody would tolerate this sort of behaviour from the less then beautiful. In fact, we let Karla Homolka literally get away with murder. Her husband is sitting in a jail cell still while she is on a sandy beach with her newly beloved and a baby. Had she been three hundred pounds with an over-bite, that deal would never have been made. Justice is not blind when it comes to good looking people.

`````Some people laugh about the fact that men are now also feeling the brunt of the beauty brush stroke. I think it's just sad; more victims. Young boys are now also falling victims to eating disorders. I hardly think that this is equality.

`````If we're going to judge somebody, let's do it because they're rednecks on purpose. Let's condemn them because they do evil deeds. But, to mock people because of their weight, skin colour, height, etc is ignorant. As I said, in some ways, I liked the idea of the convent. All that we heard was the beauty of their voices and we accepted it.

THIS WOULD BE FUNNY, IF ONLY THE PART AT 2:17 DIDN'T LOOK LIKE WHAT HAPPENS AT MY HOUSE WHEN THE VACUUM CLEANER COMES OUT

Before I head for night shift, I want to post this. I love Peter Cushing and B movies. So, I found this. It's hard to believe that it wasn't all that long ago that main-stream movie theatres ran these sorts of films. It's very funny for how bad it is. Just a word of warning...don't play if the cats are around. They do respond to the yeowls.

THIS WOMAN IS NOT DISPOSABLE

I know it's because of all the talk of Pickton in the news lately, but I thought of Vanessa B. Vanessa was another woman who died at the hands of yet one more evil man in a bad part of town. She also happened to be somebody I had gone to school with.

I didn't know her well; she hung with a different crowd then me. She always seemed to be in a good mood and I envied her ability to fit in. Vanessa was invited to the parties---the ones that somebody like me never heard of. Back then I had the reputation of being a straight kid and the lines were evenly drawn. Everybody knew on which side of the fence others fell.

Vanessa's smile is what I remember most about her. She was the sort of person who cut classes every once in a while. She didn't stand out for academic achievements. When she was happy, her entire face lit up and it was real. So many girls, the so called "popular" ones, had the forced, faked smiles of sales women. That's where the mouth moves but the eyes stay flat. Even as a person of that young age I could see through them and I recognized them for the practiced performers that they were. Think of those dolls with the strings in their backs; give it a tug and out comes a response. Not so Vanessa.

I never heard anything negative about her. There were a few girls who had reputations, yet she wasn't one of them. Vanessa wasn't one of the few girls who got pregnant in senior year. No, she liked to party, but no more then many others.

Graham Greene wrote, "There is a point of no return, unremarked at the time, in most lives." Where was that for her? Could she look back at some period in her life and see it? Was there any attempt to change things? We've all had those awful moments, usually in the dead of night or early in the morning, where we are forced to face ourselves and the mistakes we've made; where we must confront the fact that we've hurt others.

Somehow, Vanessa ended up downtown and evidentally worked as a prostitute to make ends meet at times. She was an alcoholic who also used some drugs. It is reported that before she died she was despondent over the fact that social services had taken her child into care, as it had been born addicted to a chemical.

How did she get there? Where did that feeling come from? Was it merely a case of a party that got out of hand and a predisposition to addiction? Or did she have some horrid unease with herself. I know that her mother loved her intensely. After her death, she spoke out in public on behalf of victim's interests. She also raised the point that Vanessa's race may have had something to do with it. To be honest, I really hadn't noticed. She didn't look particularily different to me. However, her mother stated that one of the parents was black, while the other was white. At the time I first moved there, I would call the town "Vanilla Wonderbread", in that it was very, very white with almost everybody having a WASP background. I'd just moved from the city, in a largely Italian part of town. Years later, when I look back, I have to concede that there weren't more then two or three black faces in my high-school. Although she didn't look it, perhaps she was conscious of it. I know that the media was wrong in reporting her as being native.

God, did it matter to her? I wish she'd known that I would have loved to have had her smile. That's all I saw about her. All these stupid things that can derail us.

Whatever the reasons for her self hatred, she found herself in a cheap rooming house with a man who didn't hate himself; he hated women. Vanessa wasn't the only woman that would die at his hands. Several women would meet their demise because of him. He would give them money to continue drinking. They would be found with very high blood alcohol levels. In fact, some speculate that those levels could only have been reached had he poured the booze down their throats. They choked on their vomit, face down on a floor or on some stained bed in a pay-by-the week room.

What disgusts me most about this case is that the police actually had him under surveillance for a while, and interrupted a couple of incidents. Otherwise, there could have been more deaths. Thus, they know that he encouraged the women to drink. They heard him do it. One has to ask how good of a job they did in that so many died. As with my blog on the prostitutes, it's probably by virtue of their professions that nobody really cared.

Prior to our highschool reunion we got a mailing about people that they couldn't locate. Vanessa's name was on it. I phoned the committee and let them know what had happened with Vanessa. I was glad to see that there was a placard and a flower with her name on a table at the reunion.

LOST, LONG AGO AND FAR AWAY...

~~~~~Dad's birthday is approaching again. It seems that lately I am acutely aware of the limitness of time. I sense the potential of loss around me. Yet, while I can grasp, as Tennessee Williams wrote that "Time is the furthest distance between two points", I cannot alter my behaviour. I have written of this before and how it frustrates me that I cannot reach out to the people I care for. There are so many questions that I want to ask and things that I want to tell them.

~~~~~My father, himself, is a fairly self contained man. However, as he gets older, he is opening up more. This is probably how he came to relate a story from his youth. In the past he mentioned it to some degree. I want to know more. My grand-parents never spoke of it. To them it was obviously no big deal. I think it's something of which they need to be proud. It's also something that I'd like to understand, as I am very interested in war history.

~~~~~My grand-parents lived in a small town in Finland. This area was known for its socialist beliefs and was therefore suspect during the war, as Finland was under the domain of the Germans.

~~~~~When I was a kid, the old house that they'd lived in still stood. Dad related to me that in the winters it would sometimes get so cold that water would freeze inside the house. My family had a small farm, as did many others in the area. They certainly were not well to do. One would have to go down to a root cellar to store items such as potatoes over the winter.

~~~~~For a year and a half, my Grand parents had a Jewish family from Helsinki staying with them. The family had once owned a department store, or clothing store, Dad recalls. They had been fairly well to do. It must have been a culture shock for them to have stayed in this farm house. The reason they were staying with my relatives is because they were attempting to get safe passage to Sweden, which was a neutral country. As anybody knows, Europe was hardly a safe place for Jews during the war, although Finland was not shipping people off in box-cars. While it was certainly not as risky for my Grandparents to have this family with them as others who took this chance in Germany or other nations in Europe, I am very proud of them.

~~~~~Dad told me that they got in touch after the war. They made it. I tried to see if there was any information on the Simon Wiesenthal site about Jews in Finland, but I couldn't find any. It would have fascinated me to see how the rest of their family did.

~~~~~At the same time that this family was in residence, there was a Russian Prisoner of War also living with my Grandparents. At that time, there were not enough facilities to house all of the soldiers taken prisoner in the conflict. The decision was made to have these men help on farms. Three men were sent to the town my Dad was from.

~~~~~Dad was twelve when Sergei arrived, whom Dad recalled as being about 40 to 45 years old. While the Jewish family was in the house, the father could speak some Russian. They left, however, to escape to Sweden. As kids will do, Dad tried to communicate. He worked in the fields with Sergei, as it was sustenence level farming and living for everybody. Dad would point at things and Sergei would say the word in Russian. They managed to communicate, as kids pick things up.

`````I can imagine that a man of that age probably had kids. Perhaps my Dad reminded him of his family, so far away. He was from Siberia. Through the way that they'd managed to communicate, he told my Dad about how they hunted in Siberia. It was some traditional way which involved a tool or weapon that they manufactured themselves. The days in the fields would be spent sharing stories. I hope that he got some joy in those memories; that he could see his family so far away in his mind when he went to bed at night. For of course, there were no letters. There were no phone calls and no reports. He would have no way of knowing how they were doing.

~~~~~Sergei ate with my family; he was treated no differently. He came and went as he pleased. In fact, he developed a friendship with my great uncle.

~~~~~The other prisoner of war that Dad knew, in the family up the road a bit, was a Cossack. In his homeland he'd kept bees and he was more then surprised to find himself with a family who did the same. He also had a fondness for the horses, evidentally. As I said, they came and went as they pleased. The community didn't care. Dad recalled this man as being huge and powerful; a man who could lift bales of hay and wood like they were nothing and throw them onto the back of a wagon.

~~~~~It was this fairness that was their downfall. I've always hated "the suits"---officialdom---and the petty people who complain to them. It came to their attention that the prisoners were not being treated harshly enough.

~~~~~My father is not a demonstrative man. Like me, he'll do anything not to cry at funerals or show his emotions. But all these decades later his voice choked up when he told me what happened next. As I type this, I find it difficult not to be troubled. One day, they came to collect the trio to take them elsewhere. Dad, who was still only a kid, really, had to tell Sergei. As they sat on the steps, Sergei began to cry. Sergei had had the opportunity to escape himself but had not done so as it would have put my Grandfather into a bad spot. Sergei didn't want to do that to the people who had treated him so well. Talk about self sacrifice. He took the address and he promised that when that dreadful war was over, he would get in touch.

~~~~~Sergei was never heard from again. I was hoping for a happy ending, with him meeting his family once more in some Siberian sunflower field. What was it? Illness? Did he return to Russia only to be sent to his death by Stalin's insane policy?

~~~~~I only know that I cannot but help look at conflict and war reports from different angles. Most of the combatants are ordinary people caught up in a tsunami they don't understand. Those flattened in its wake tend to be women, children and old people. The common soldier doesn't necessarily support the politics. All they know is that they're far away from those that they love and they may never see them again.

~~~~~I regret not having asked my Grandparents about these things. My Grandmother was an amazing woman, in that she had kids late in life and managed to do this while living with severe migraines. She could bend over and touch her toes well into her late eighties, and despite going blind, she continued to crochet constantly for others. My Grandfather knew so much about nature and the environment. He's passed his stories onto my Dad. I still have time to ask him questions....I just have to do it.

WHEN TIME CHANGES THE NATURE OF A RELATIONSHIP

A Disgraceful Affair: Simone de Beauvoir, Jean Paul Sartre, Bianca Lamblin

-----by Biana Lamblin-----

`````I have finished reading the book about the threesome that Simone de Beauvoir, Biana Bienenfeld and Jean Paul Sartre had. I know that not only are the times different, but the culture is different when it comes to relationships between students and teachers. Nevertheless, I could never approve of a teacher getting sexually involved with a student. It is especially sordid when she then passes the girl off to somebody else (Sartre). In a way, Simone de Beauvoir is procuring for him as she knows that he likes girls of that age. They first attempted such a trio with "Olga", then with Bianca and Nathalie Sorokine. At times it gets confusing given the various pseudonyms used in the autobiographies and the novels. What isn't hard to understand, though, is that all of the girls were students. Yes, psychologially they were more mature during that decade. But still...

`````I do realize that in France the stigma of teachers getting involved with students isn't the same as here, especially back at that time. Even in North America, it wasn't all that uncommon for teachers to fall in love with female students. In reading Lucy Maud Montgomery's biography it was obvious that it went on fairly routinely with young teachers leaving the colleges. In small towns the instructors would be quite young, perhaps only a few years older than the students themselves. The dating pool was not large and the girls were fairly mature and they married earlier. It was not a crime as it is now.

`````The girls who were studying at the lycee in France at 17 were advanced intellectually compared to the students here as they undertook lessons in Latin, philosophy and the classics. It was certainly comparable to a university level study of today. On the other hand, they were not as "worldly" as the girls of today. I guess that would be a nice way of saying that the girls then were less trampy then their sisters today. They were raised as good Catholics; values such as purity were held in the highest regard. Everybody back then certainly knew who the town pump was. There was a negative stigma attached to promiscuous behavior in small towns. The family would certainly be told if somebody got out of line.

`````I am a huge fan on Ms de Beauvoir's, but emotionally and morally, I think it was wrong. The girl formed a bond and an attachment with her teacher. I recall what it was like to look up to an instructor at that age. Bianca must really have felt special to have her beloved Mademoiselle select her to spend time with. When the actions cross over into the sexual it is wrong. It is especially bad when Bianca is encouraged to also develop an interest in Sartre. If Simone then witholds her affections or turns cold when Bianca doesn't act interested, it is a form of coercion. As Simone herself was conflicted and became jealous when Sartre became overly interested in Bianca, this would cause feelings of guilt, betrayal and even more confusion. That's a lot for a 17 year old to handle.

`````Bianca had been a virgin until she met Sartre. He acted like a cad and a boor in his encounter with her. He told her that he'd deflowered somebody else the day before and wouldn't the chambermaid be surprised. They were faithful to the scene in the film "Les Amants des Flores" where they showed Sartre standing by the sink and washing one foot after another. He would not let Bianca close the blinds even though she was uncomfortable.

`````I also do not like the fact that Simone was aware the relationship created friction between Bianca and her Mother yet she pursued the girl anyways. I believe that this harkens to her own family dynamics. There seems to be a hint of passive aggressivity at play here; if she couldn't enjoy a happy homelife then nobody else could either.

`````There were long term negative consequences for Bianca in that she fell into a depression. Nathalie Sorokine also had mental health issues. Was it preexisting and made worse by her encounter with Sartre and de Beauvoir? The two other women that were mainstays in their lives never forged independent careers. Olga and Wanda were two malingering and slatternly sisters who would have found a way to leech off somebody no matter what. Neither had a work ethic from the get-go and both had a strong sense of entitlement. Like overfed, lazy cats, they wanted a life of leisure.

`````I have a real curiosity as to what Simone's sexuality truly was. In her youth she was friends with Zaza but she had no sexual interest in her. Yet, it is in her teen years that she would have felt some yearnings. On the other hand she was very much interested in her cousin Jacques. In University she had desires only towards males. I cannot but help think that her physical encounters with females were at the urging of Sartre. These encounters procurred girls for him. I think that's why her sexual encounters with women stopped when her physical relationship with Sartre stopped 100%. Nelson Algren did note some strange dynamic between Nathalie Sorokine when she came to visit the lake, however.

`````Sartre was the love of her life, yet he would not commit to one person. She was very physically attracted to Nelson Algren, but there was a cultural and physical distance between them which could not be spanned. She was attracted to Bost for his character, intellect and looks but he was involved with another. With Claude Lanzman, the age difference was too great and he too played around. Simone lamented the loss of holding a man in her arms at night. She never wrote that about a woman.

`````Anyways, I have gotten off on a tangent again. This book made me think about the nature of Simone's attraction to Sartre and how far she was willing to take it. The book goes into Bianca Lamblin's work in the resistance movement in the war as well. Her anger towards the couple never lets up and is an ever present under-current. That's the fourth person in the story. It would have been much better without it.

AN ALIEN IN YOUR OWN SKIN

`````I happened to come upon this film by accident one day and it was one of those ones where there was a connection. It wasn't that I enjoyed it; there was something in it that reflected my own life.

`````I was born here, but when I was young, my family returned to Europe. The telecommunications industry has really changed in the last few years and it's hard for people to understand, but it's not that long ago that there were parts of that continent that still lacked what people in North America took for granted. For example, there were only a couple of television stations at the time and they wouldn't start up until something like five in the afternoon. Mind you, they were very liberal with what they ran.

`````I found a documentary once that had been filmed in the area I had lived in and I showed it to a friend of mine. It was filmed in black and white in the l970's. My friend thought it was from World War Two, given the way people were dressed and how they lived. The elderly people were lugging old big tin milk containers and working in the barn in the same way they'd done for decades. In fact, I had relatives who did not have indoor plumbing when I was a child. I still recall having to trudge through the snow when I visited in the winter to use the outhouse.

`````When we returned, we had to pack up everything we owned into a few trunks and suitcases. It meant making tough choices about what one left behind. It really was leaving all that one owned behind. A person knew that they'd most likely never see others again.

`````It was odd moving back to North America. Not only did I have to relearn the language, but when I did, I had an accent. The culture was different also. Over there, it had been no big deal for kids my age to run around top-less. After all, little kids all have the same parts. When I did that, it was greeted with shock. I didn't understand the way many of the girls behaved, in that they seemed to enjoy teasing others immensely. I refused to join in, and that labelled me as different. I opted to have males as friends, much as the girl in this film, "A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries." I ended up getting teased because of my refusal to play by the rules.

`````It was funny....a rumour started when I was in highschool that I had moved up from California, as I looked like the quintessential California girl. I was blonde and tanned easily. That's the last thing I felt like. I always felt like an alien. I was fairly shy and quiet. I loved to read and was an independant thinker. I was very much a loner and I enjoyed writing.

`````I guess this is why I have always had an understanding of how immigrants feel. They may be nonwhite, on the whole, but I know how they feel. It's also why I never give in to the herd mentality of picking on others.

THE BOAT IN MY FEB 21, 2009 BLOG SANK

Boat sinks at Friday Harbor Marina with 100 gallons of diesel onboard

I never knew whose boat this was; I merely took a photo of it when I was on vacation and I thought the colour of the sky looked interesting. I placed it on Panoramio and I found that it had a notation behind it one day which said "selected for Google Earth?" Anyways, somebody that I know told me that it had recently sank, which is sad news. The owners lived on the boat but they were not hurt. They managed to get the boat back up and are going to repair it.