I N V E S T M E N T

I N V E S T M E N T 

I've been thinking a lot about the principle of getting back what you give. By that, I don't mean breaking even. I mean, getting a return on an investment. Like the idea that if you put in something, however small the amount, depending on where you deposit it, will compound and return to you larger.  

There was this parable from the bible that I learned wayyyy back in Sunday school that, at the time, infuriated my 7 year old brain. It was about this wealthy master giving money to each of his 3 servants. He didn't give much instruction to them and then went away for a long time. When he returned he asked what they servants had done with the money. One of them invested the money and doubled it, one worked hard and earned an additional amount and the third was scared he would be punished if he lost it so he buried it in the ground.  I really sympathized with the third servant because I thought that would be exactly what I would do. I was taught gambling was a sin in the very same class (oh if only god could see Drew and I and now with our stacks of pulltabs and keno chits on date night at the pub.....wait...MAYBE HE CAN SEE US)

Anyhoo, the master praised the two servants that invested his money and brought him the return. But when he questioned the third servant about the whole "burying it in the ground" thing, the servant said (and I'm paraphrasing here);

"Sir, with all due respect, you're kind of a tyrant. You harvest other people's crops when they're not looking, you're super harsh on your staff..not gonna lie here, we're all terrified of you. I knew you would have my ass (and my kneecaps) if I lost this money so I just wanted to make sure it was still here when you got back. I got enough on my plate, man, without you comin' after me for this shit." 

So basically, the master was super pissed at him and not only reamed him out in front of the other servants, but then banished him to the moat where dragons ate him and shit. 

Wait...I think this The Princess Bride. What?

But, you get the point. Little kid g was so bummed about the way the third servant was treated and I'm sure I asked WAY too many questions that day and for years to come that my Sunday school teacher was probably like "UGH I DON'T GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS SHIT, I'M A VOLUNTEER FOR GODSAKE SIT DOWN AND DRINK YOUR TANG" Or something. 

Now I totally get it. (thanks JC!) Because for some reason, I was born with an artistic mind. I was born with moderate skills to manifest those urges into works of art. Some are songs, some are pieces of writing, and some are polaroid photos that BREAK MY SCANNER.  The point is, I'm here to make something bigger out of the small amount of talent given me. And if I wasted that talent by burying it in the ground and waiting for 20 years just to unearth it and find it just sitting there all along, not ever being used, invested or made into anything more than what it started with, well shit son, I deserve all that weeping and gnashing of teeth. I should REPENT for that laziness! #sackclothandashes

Lately, I've been doing a lot of observing of other artists and their ways of investing their talent on a daily basis. I must say, it's very inspiring (and shaming).  I need to stop thinking about the next big project and make something NOW. I need to take my little bag of silver and invest it. So what if I lose something in the process? The "master" is gonna throw me to the wolves anyway. 

I might as well have something to leave after I'm gone. And if it sucks, that's ok cause I'll be dead and sipping on margaritas with the HF up in cloudy happy land. 

And that, my friends, is what you call a WIN-WIN.

V E G A N/
S O B E R/
G I B B E R/
I S H

D A Y  O N E:

GOOD GINUARY, all!  If there's one thing I love more than anything, it's a good challenge. And by love, I mean frustrate me to all hell and turn me into a ranting, foot stomping, fist clenching 5 yr old. But I know the more I challenge myself, the more I learn. (idiot fact of the day) 

I've put it upon myself most days to think about my motives for things, seek the sources of my desires and deterrents and to constantly question my "beliefs". I'm not perfect at it, and there are definitely actions of mine that go unchecked, but for the most part, I'm a thinker before a doer. 

Lately, I've been thinking about my role in society. Not only as a human being, but as a privileged one. Last year, I told myself I wasn't going to participate in the sweat-shop fuelled fashion industry. Not being much of trend follower clothes horse to begin with, it wasn't much of a challenge. If I buy clothes, they are most likely vintage, local designers or a good head first dive into the free bin in our building's laundry room.  I admit, I caved and bought a $20 pair of jeggings from Old Navy somewhere around October and again succumbed to holiday trip to Walmart and spent $ on leggings and a sweater when I realized my hasty, slightly drunk packing revealed I did not have anything to accommodate my post-turkey dinner bloat.  I'm not exactly crippling the industry with my "ish" boycott, but the challenge was more about me and how I wanted to think of others before myself. And at the end of the day, I just like feeling like I have control over my consumption of anything, really. I don't have cable TV, and other than the ads on the youtuber videos I so enjoy, or the news websites I frequent, most of the advertising I subject myself to is the scrolly, oddly directed, white noise beside my facebook feed. 

You see, I'm vulnerable. I love lamp. I can be an easy target for manipulation. (believe it or not)

Over the last year of pursuing my musical aspirations, creative projects and going down to a part-timer in the traditional workforce, I have much more time to think. And eat. I experimented with giving my body a rest from intensely working out, religiously policing my diet and concentrated more on my heart, head and work.  The results were noticeable. Figuratively and literally. I'm happier, I'm less anxious and I'm a lil chubbier. I am the cliche of with happiness comes softness and roundness and heck of a lot more booty. (hence the emergency jeggings in October..) One thing I've struggled with all year is the swing from feeling so blissful, to squeezing into my clothes that I'm trying to not replace. And for the most part, I've just let myself feel all the happy. It has been an experiment in self esteem and I am happy to report, it hasn't taken much of a beating. Towards the end of the year, I decided to challenge myself further and stop covering my grey hair, which has come out in full force as of late! With my invisible years fast approaching, the wonderful freedom of NOT being a demographic for beauty companies/music labels/EVERYTHING is I can almost fly under the radar. It was a great year to do whatever the fuck I wanted. It was and continues to be GLORIOUS. 

I also rekindled my adoration/obsession with animals (was it ever dead?).  I started following too many dogs on instagram. One day I started following Esther The Wonderpig. A pair of adorable men in the maritimes who have a farm run the account of this hilarious and beautifully mischievous member of the swine kingdom that they rescued under the impression that she was a "micropig". Much to their surprise and eventual delight she grew into a full size sow. They became vegans and dedicate most of their posts to her and promoting animals as family, not food. 

Now, that's as far as I can dip my toes into the animals rights pool for today. I'm not sure if it's my calling. But I know I adore all animals and I also know I couldn't kill one myself. I decided to ask myself the question of why can I eat one? I had dabbled in vegetarianism in, as Cher Horowitz would call, my "post-adolescent idealistic phase".  It lasted a few years. Then, due to some serious diet changes put upon me by my doctor (going gluten free in 2001 was not a nice time for a 20 yr old girl with no money or means to understand how to supplement it), I was advised to eat meat somewhere around the 118 lb mark. The point at which I could no longer hide my bones. (to give you some perspective, a healthy weight for my frame is no lower than 140 lbs). I started eating a high protein, almost zero carb diet to curb the intensity of my IBS. Now, 15 years later, my body's digestive system has changed and much to my delight, I can eat pretty much anything with little to no negative effect (within reason). I don't know if it was giving my body a 15 year break from processed food, most refined sugars and almost all gluten, maybe my age is a factor now, maybe I "cured" myself, I don't know. But it wouldn't hurt to take a look at revising my diet again and making sure I'm where I need to be. 

So..animal love + diet awareness + breaking control of certain powerful industries = vegan...ish. I'm trying it for a week and then if I like it, continue to see positive changes, I'll see how much longer I can go with the idea of perhaps being completely vegan for a month. 

Baby steps. 

Also the soberish part of this blog was just a bit a of a cheeky joke. It's Ginuary, people, so I will only be consuming gin as my cocktail/imbibe of choice. I will be posting a series of videos on my youtube channel showcasing some of my favourite cocktails.  I think I may also be posting my attempts at some real vegan gourmet cuisine here on the blog too. 

Besides, not eating animals might bring up a lot of feelings. And I'm gonna need to drink about them. 

Stay tuned for what will come of this. Or hit up my instagram to see me cave and eat a whopper at midnight tonight. (ha!)

Yours, in earnest, 

g xo