i feel...

i feel that the powdery snowflakes would land on my tongue, if i were to stick it out--but there's window glass between us.

We Feel Fine (.org)

http://wefeelfine.org/

Since August 2005, We Feel Fine has been harvesting human feelings from a large number of weblogs. Every few minutes, the system searches the world's newly posted blog entries for occurrences of the phrases "I feel" and "I am feeling". When it finds such a phrase, it records the full sentence, up to the period, and identifies the "feeling" expressed in that sentence (e.g. sad, happy, depressed, etc.). Because blogs are structured in largely standard ways, the age, gender, and geographical location of the author can often be extracted and saved along with the sentence, as can the local weather conditions at the time the sentence was written. All of this information is saved.

intrigued? check it out!

how would Dostoyevski look today and those pesky russian names

simple and empowering http://www.bonkworld.org/index.php?action=show&id=62

now even YOU can read dostoyevski!

like tropical fish out of water

my 2007 nanowrimo novel focuses--in an indirect and rather abstract way--on the news off the day. so here are the news of the day, for those who didn't catch it.

A tropical fish that lives in mangrove swamps across the Americas can survive out of water for months at a time, similar to how animals adapted to land millions of years ago, a new study shows.

as for the nano--i'm a bit behind, but working daily and am happy with the process.

time to log off and do another 1000.

making a literary life

--Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers. by Carolyn See.

i loved this book. easy to read, inspirational without being annoying; her practical advice is affirming, and her ideas on revising / finishing a novel are extremely helpful. she spells out the logistics of the process--exactly what i needed.

grasshopper-locust transformation

amazing and fascinating. (youtube)

where do i get a live grasshopper? will it work? what would i feed it? would it live in a large jar? will i be able to stroke its leg for 4 hours?

kamotiq inn (the last igloo) in local news

here is what nunatsiaq news has to say about kamotiq's turbulent history:

2002: Fire marshal closes the Kamotiq Inn

2003: Fire marshal orders restaurant closed a second time

2004: Kamotiq Inn owner blames "vendetta" for licencing problems

2006: Accused, accuser had sex in Kamotiq washroom

2007: Igloo-shaped watering hole to give way to office, retail complex

canada's last igloo

look what made yahoo headlines today--canada's last igloo to be flattened.
but "a family restaurant?" c'mon. drop the sentimental tone, please. not in the recent years. more like a place to avoid, if you are a family type person, if you know what i mean. certainly my family doesn't appreciate drugs, drunkards, smokers, hookers, and boarded windows when we seek a family restaurant to enjoy arctic char at lunch. luckily, there are a number of lovely places in town where one feels safe and comfortable, and the arctic char is delicious.

ivan bunin writes flash

reading: Tyomnye Allei (The Dark Avenues / Shadowed Pathways, according to another translation ) by Ivan Bunin (1870-1953). flash fiction at its best, and i had no idea.

Bunin bits:

• About the Soviet government he wrote: "What a disgusting gallery of convicts!"

• He was the first Russian to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1933.

• Bunin was a strong opponent of the Nazis and reportedly sheltered a Jew in his house in Grasse throughout the occupation.

• His tempestous private life in emigration is the subject of the internationally acclaimed Russian movie, The Diary of His Wife (2000).

alinait arts festival 2007

alinait has been fun.

after attending two workshops, i'm in love with felting. designs appear in my head, colours, shapes. i enjoyed the subtle layering of fibers, and working with wool. i have no idea what i'd do with my pieces--i'm not into making bags or hats (yet?) i'm going to order some wool and some basic supplies soon.

the multicultural concert / coffee house yesterday was lovely, and the kids had the space to run around and enjoy the music and the atmosphere.

tonight i went to see The Room by Harold Pinter, and everyone's performances were impressive. i loved the play, the seeming absurdity of it, and the haunting mood. when it was over, i couldn't quite connect the dots, couldn't absorb all of it to make any sense, and was left with the feeling of loneliness and discomfort. as i walked home lines from the play ran through my head, and when i was putting the kids to bed it all came together for me. the realisation what the play was about hit me. it was sudden, and somewhat unexpected, and evoked deep sadness in me.

we still have a concert to go tomorrow, and, of course, the canada day festivities and open air concerts.

"dogs" by arthur bradford

this summary is from my very much loved 2000 o'henry collection, the story was short-listed, originally published in esquire, 1999.

a man has sexual relations with a dog and spawns a litter that includes one human offspring in miniature. the father casts the child off, moses-like, in a shoebox. later the child returns, disguised as a singing muskrat, and is accidentally killed by one of the other dogs in his litter. but the little man has impregnated a woman in an iron lung who gives birth to a litter of singing pooches.

the story also appears in his short story collection, Dogwalker, i just found out after googling. i've wanted to read this story for ages. well, since 2000. maybe it is the time i buy the collection.

interestingly, bradford also worked / works with adults with developmental disabilities. unlike me, however, he believes that his stories should be entertaining and easy to read. i don't know what i believe about my stories. my humber mentor has been gently prodding me towards accessibility. i'm trying. but i generally like a bit of mystery and wonder and maybe even some subtle confusion in the stories i read, and write.

oh, and i think the miniature man survives, as obviously he is Fernando, the lover of my nameless protagonist in Postcard from Brazil, my yet unpublished flash. heh heh. i actually didn't think about this summary when i wrote this story. but maybe it has been in my subconscious for too long.

my collection

i just finished arranging my 25 flash pieces in the order i want them to be in my collection. they are all in Part 2. i think i like the order, they are sort of in pairs, each second flash somewhat related to the first.

i have 4 stories left to revise for the first part of the collection. then i will let them all sit for a bit, and read them again, and probably revise again. at one point i will need to stop revising.

i'm pleased that the collection is about 55000 words, maybe even closer to 60000. i started my writing course with 30K, and was hoping to end up with 40K.

another rejection unearthed

yesterday i put on my husband's windbreaker and found a rejection from a canadian lit mag that i really want to be in. it was a handwritten note, dated april. the editor explained what didn't work for him in the story--too disjointed and asked me to submit again. for a beginner writer such notes are gold. it was supposed to be disjointed, as the protagonist is a mental patient, but i've been told more than once already that i need to somehow make it more coherent without necessarily sacrificing the disjointed quality.

other than that and a bunch of other rejections i have nothing of substance to share. i've been making heroic efforts of getting up and writing after my kids wind down for the day. this isn't as easy as it seems, as the youngest goes to bed 2 hours later than the oldest, and then one of them invariably wakes me up in the middle of the night screaming / dreaming, and then the same youngest invariably wakes up 1 hour before the oldest. i think i am getting about 6 hours of sleep, and maybe that's why most of my stories have a disjointed, delirious quality to them. just kidding. this is how i see the world. but i do need more sleep and more time to write, and this is not happening lately.

i've had thoughts of taking a break from this blog. i will think some more, and post an update.

first drafts

i have no patience for details when the entire story is still untold. i rush through the first 1500 words. i prepare the foundation. it is my least favorite part, no matter how much i want to write a particular story. writing first drafts literally makes my head hurt.

i just finished a first draft. i've been living with this story in my head for a week. the draft is so bad, i can't even read it. and as it is almost 1AM, i am sure i won't be able to focus on it either. yet i know that tomorrow and in the next days i will settle with it, read it slowly, fiddle with each sentence, start adding details, and the story will grow, and i will be enjoying it. the story will probably change, morph into something slightly different. this will also be fun, invigorating, all-consuming.

night night.

my most amusing rejection so far

i got an email rejection from a lit mag today.

Sorry to say no to both - nice, but not really for us. I would urge you, though, to enter our contest with them.

the entry fee is $30. is he asking (urging) for a bribe, or a donation?

i've been interviewed!

read it on Kelly Spitzer's site!

i talk about growing up in the USSR, life on Baffin island, my short story collection, my plans for my novel, and there is a photo of me too.

forcing myself

last night, as i was putting my kids to bed, my eyes were heavy, my head throbbing. they had been sick with a stomach bug, waking up several times at night, demanding things in half delirious whining self pity. i don't blame them, but i was exhausted. yet i told myself to get up and write. and i did.

at first i stared at the screen. i had an idea for a long story, but i had no stamina to even think about it. i told myself to write something short, even if a paragraph. nothing came to mind. i forced myself to think of an image. i searched my blank mind.

an image came. then sentence by sentence i wrote a flash. i loved how a coherent piece came to life, from a single, fuzzy image. i will need to work on it, but I'm glad i gave myself that chance.

Tonight I wrote another flash.

I think it is important to write everyday, even if my mind seems to be blank at first, even if i'm tired. i seem to be doing better at making myself write first drafts, which are the hardest for me. some of it is just practice.

good night.

average monthly temperatures and hours of daylight for Iqaluit

Average Monthly Temperatures

January -25.8C (-14.4F)
February -26.8C (-16.24F)
March -23.5C (-10.3F)
April -14.7C (5.54F)
May -4.2C (24.43F)
June 3.4C (38.12F)
July 7.7C (45.86F)
August 6.8C (44.24F)
September 2.3C (36.14F)
October -4.9C (23.18F)
November -12.7C (9.4F)
December -22.1C (-7.78F)

Hours of Sunlight Per Day

January, 6.12
February, 8.8
March, 11.78
April, 14.4
May, 17.86
June, 19.2
July, 18.83
August, 16.01
September, 12.97
October, 9.92
November, 6.99
December, 5.13

Toonik Tyme Day 4

the dog races on the sea ice started at 9AM. we slept in. we didn't make it. we made it to the craft show, and while walking there we spotted, from up high, snowmobile races on the sea ice. they looked like bug. we were that high.

we also spotted the igloos from yesterday's competition. still standing.

the craft show was packed. a visitor commented: "you people take things seriously." yes we do.

seal skin mitts were going for $100 or more. they say that nothing can be compared to these real mitts. frankly, i'm not sure. the mitts that i got at the MEC kept my hands super warm at
-45C, and they fit me better, and were more adjustable. and i am not going out if it is colder than -45C.

regardless, it was really neat to see the traditional clothing--it is beautiful. and some even smelled like fish!

then i walked to the airport to pick up our foodmail order. i ordered green onions for the first time since we came here, and it came in pretty decent shape. i'm becoming more adventurous, and less anxious about 'losing' money if a product comes in a bad condition.

i was looking forward to the traditional community feast and games. we missed the feast. when we arrived there was almost nothing left on the blue plastic sheets spread on the floor. what was left was bloody and smelled of fish. maybe i am not ready for the traditional foods. no, i am not.

then the games started. the first one was pure fun. each contestant had to run while screaming, or scream while running, and the one running the longest distance on one breath wins. fun, fun, fun. there was a line up of participants. a lot of laughter. some tripped fell. some tried to cheat. some covered their ears.

then the washrooms over-flooded and we had to go home. bummer.

Toonik Tyme Day 3

today we had the best weather ever. -9C, now wind, and sunny. i didn't wear my hat or mitts. the sun was hot on my face. thin delicate snowflakes were falling from the clear, blue sky.

we were set to see the igloo building competition. the location was TBA. after i called the organisers' number (no answer), the visitors' center (no answer), the museum (i was told to call the visitors' center), we called the cab, and the driver knew were it was. he had spotted a crowd behind the arctic college, by the fire hall.

4 people competed. about 100 watched. block by block little igloos took shape. beating the last year's record of 60 min by 20 min a sweaty elder put the last block of the dome (from the inside) and cut an opening to crawl out. about a dozen children climbed right it.

it all depends on your first row, i was told. the angle has to be just right. too straight, and you end up with a beehive.

i will update with photos.

Toonik Tyme -- opening ceremony

i walked to the arena with the kids in a soft, gentle snowfall. usually even if it 'snows' here, it is not snow, it is 'ice crystals', according to what the weather hotline announces. yesterday the snowfall was real, and it was amazing. the earth and the sky were white. i have to admit that i did worry about a white-out -- when the snowfall becomes so thick and heavy you don't see your outstretched arm. i was told people die in white-outs, meters away from their doorstep.

the set up for the festivities was the nicest i've seen here so far, and the event was lovely. i think i expected more people, but there was no space for more anyway.

some highlights: tiny girls throat-singing; break-dancing; a guitars and drums band; and a real drum dancer to open the festivities. the acoustics were terrible, of course.

when we are home, the snow is soft enough for snow angels



i glanced at the schedule for today's events, and nothing attracted me. besides, the wind is strong, and we feel like staying at home.

Toonik Tyme

i'm alive. i've been shamed. i will blog. i'm here.

today is the first day of Toonik Tyme, the festival that celebrates the arrival of spring. YES! spring is in the air. -11C, calm wind. the sun is hot and the snow is melting. on the playground today we found a patch of really awesome wet dirt. the opening ceremony is today at 6:30PM and i hope to make it.

in writing news: i'm writing a lot. revising, writing new stories, revising again. i feel i have no time for everything i want to do. since starting the humber course i feel my writing moved forward, i like the direction it is taking, and enjoying the process. but again, i feel there is no time. i force myself to get up after the kids are asleep, but sometimes i am too sleepy and end up spending two hours reading crap on line, rather than writing.

i also have another line-editing client, and even though the money is great, i feel i need more time for my own stuff.

other than that, i am enjoying my life, the spring, my kids, my friends, my writing.

i'm going to report on the Toonik Tyme festivities in the next week.

check often!

Miraculous by Kuzhali Manickavel. read it. read it.

*

i am not dead.

i've been in a short story mode lately, rather than flash or prose poem mode. so when i started writing a new story (forced myself tonight, after a longish 'block') i wasn't surprised that it effortlessly reached 3200 words, and it hasn't ended yet.

but it is almost 2AM, and maybe i am not thinking clearly. i wonder if tomorrow i wouldn't be tempted to cut it down to a nice, rich 500-worder. or a micro. just kidding. not a micro. i think i should keep going, reach 4K, then edit it back to 3K. it does need good editing -- i need to slow down the dialouge, add more details, figure out what they are wearing, and...other stuff.

the story is about hair. and about odd things. or maybe it is only about odd things. maybe hair is simply accidental.

where did an hour go? http://www.jacksonpollock.org/

today on our way to the playgroup our cab drive gave us a little tour of the damage in town -- several houses with the roofs or the siding gone. i heard a piece of plywood flew someone's window. it was the strongest blizzard in the last 30 years.

today was a windless -15C. gorgeous weather. i could live all year with weather like this. seriously.

in writing news: i'm working on my short story collection as a part of the humber college creative writing correspondence course. i'm in a revision mode. i haven't written anything new in weeks. but i have 2 longer stories simmering in my mind, and several flashes, and with them i should be over the 35000 words minimum that is needed for a collection.

prosopagnosia
more

i honestly think i have a mild form. yesterday my neighbour knocked on my door to invite us for dinner. i had no idea who she was, though i knew she was terribly familiar. i cautiously agreed. i then looked out, and saw no car in our driveway. aha, i thought, car keys in her hand, but no car. she must be the one who lives in our semidetached. at least i have some modicum of logic.

last night:

The wind is gusting to 120km/h.

our blinds keep moving and rattling:

the houses across the street had their power out for several hours. There was a lull in the wind, and the power came back, but now their windows are black again. This is truly scary, as our heating is electrical, and the houses get chilled very fast. Our own power has been flickering on and off, sometimes for a few minutes, mostly for a few seconds, and there is no internet right now, but so far we have been lucky. I have extra clothing in the bedroom -- winter jackets, hats and mitts, for the kids, in case our power shuts down. The loud howling from the wind is spooky. With the kids asleep, the blizzard isn't 'fun' anymore. The house is shaking and creaking. Snow is finding cracks in the windows and piling up on the window sills.



We collected enough to make a small snowman.



The temperature is very high, -5C, though it feels like -25C with the wind chill, and at one point I wanted to open the door and stick my head out. The instant I turned the lock, the door flew right at me banging me hard on my head. Lesson learned. I convinced the kids that on blizzard nights we go to bed early, so this mean they will wake up early as well. I am wide awake and too anxious to sleep. I know this is irrational, as we are not in any danger, but the constant movement of the house and the overwhelming noise of the wind...

Lost power there. Still no internet. Will post it tomorrow. Going to drink some chamomile tea with honey and try to relax.

* * *
we woke up at 8:30AM and immediately lost power. it came back around 2PM. we stayed in the bedroom the entire time -- i ran out a dozen times for snacks, toys, and what not. since it was only -6C outside, the house didn't get icy, but it did get rather uncomfortably chilly. the wind kept gusting at 100km/h, but the sky was clear blue.

i wasn't able to find the local radio station on our little radio, our reception is poor. we need to get a satellite radio. and a thermos. and a non-electric heater (do they even exist?).

the power customer service line was not being picked up. i called several people but they were out, or their phones were not charged. in any case, i remain blissfully unaware what is happening with the power situation. is it back, or are they rolling it? i'm fully preparing not to have it again tonight.

our second blizzard. wind gusting to 100km/h. the weather hot-line is constantly busy. the noise in the living room is similar to the constant hum in an airplane during a flight, my monitor is shaking, and it is windy inside the room. if i stand by my living room window i get sprinkled with thin dropplets of water (or is it ice? in my house?). wild. we are going to have a blizzard party. would be more fun if my husband wasn't stranded in yellow knife.

teach an old dog a new trick (speedier uploading), and you get daily photo updates. but the weather has to be reasonable. like -29C, no windchill.

we had plans to see the biggest airplane ever (so they say) which is now in the iqaluit airport, undergoing some freezing temperature tests. the taxi driver said that he saw the plane fly north this morning. but it is supposed to return and stay here until monday. pics to come. weather permitting.

so instead we went to the post office. nada. not a single parcel. not even a postcard. then we walked to the visitors' center.

walking towards the bay, near the visitors' center




this street looks so cozy to me. it looks warmer than it is...



down by the bay






looking back from the shore. my shadow and my child, who wasn't so keen on my photographic endeavours. our Road To Nowhere subdivision is just behind that hill, 20 minutes walking, 40 with a 4 year old

around 4PM the sun is setting (photo taken from the visitors' center, where we watched a video on drum dancing)

we get out from the cener -- woah! full moon!



on the way home we check out the remains of the Snack.

the diner burned down last week. they say the fire department declared the grease fire under control and left. then the Snack burned down. don't quote me on this one, just things i heard.

as we were walking by a young inuk shook his head and said, no more Snack. i answered, what a shame. he laughed -- the drunks will have nowhere to go now late at night.

this was the aspect of the Snack not yet familiar to us. we had burgers there twice. small burgers. barely warm burgers. we still loved the Snack. it was open late, when everything else was closed. RIP, Snack.

last day of january -28C wind: calm

we go out for a walk


she is determined

inside the amautik, he is curious

we look at the snow barrier


kids are going back to school after lunch break
we think we will follow the snowmobile tracks



we are ambitious, we want to go up that hill

then we remember a little note we read in the local newspaper: wolves have been seen in Iqaluit and Apex. schoolchildren are being warned. the wolves are hungry and desperate. ouch. we return home. hot chocolate for everybody.

* * *

just before we came in, i took quite a number of photos, holding my camera in my bare hands. then i took my key out, ready to open the door. all of a sudden i could not move my fingers. my hands got so stiff i could not insert the key into the lock. i put my mitts on again, and tried to warm my hands up. in a couple of minutes i was able to open the door. and lock it behind us. wow. and it wasn't even that cold.

* * *


some photos of our first blizzard, a week or so ago:

we wake up to this

our front door

a raven hides from the wind on our deck

windows covered with snow, and crayon art on the glass

* * *
and on a completely separate and unrelated note: i made this, with no pattern, in 2 h. the last time i crocheted was in kindergarden. i'm pretty impressed with myself. i need to buy more yarn.

winter days...

i haven't had any time to write in the last weeks, and i blame it on my novel. when i mostly wrote flash, i always wrote flash, and i had the time. now i feel i need uninterrupted chunks of time. and i never have them. i thought i had one now, but i am too sleepy, and all i managed to do was to read my previous chapter, write a couple of sentences, and a short summary of the chapter that i was planning to finish today. it is better than nothing, but it is not enough, and i get antsy that i am not writing.

the binnacle micro fiction contest deadline is approaching, so maybe i should focus on something that is 150 words long. this feels more manageable, and i love the challenge. i was short listed last year, and the rumour goes that you get your copy of the deck of cards with the flashes on them only after you submit again. this is a joke, don't quote me on this.

my mentor from the humber school of writing correspondence course had mailed me my comments. they are not here yet. he thought i'd have them wednesday. nunavut is apparently not canada. oh, in so many ways too.

okay, i am going go force myself to write 500 words for my chapter. i can do it. i don't care if it will be crap. it will be crap that i can edit later.

now.

i am going to do it now.

the novel is moving along. slowly and steadily. not too slowly, actually. i am happy with the pace. a new structure has evolved, so the fist several chapters had to be restructured.

i feel i need to be printing everything out in order to have a better view, especially of the spatial stuff, but i'm also stingy with paper. gotta get over this block.

i also want to dig in the storage room and find my voice recorder, so i can record some passages and then listen to them.

interesting thoughts come late at night, when i am falling asleep, and i repeat them several times in order not to forget, but i still forget. maybe i should force myself to get up every time this happens, and type them up. though i hope the same thoughts will return when i am working on the relevant chapters.