Because you’re Native

So I was going through the documents my doctor gave me, to give to the hospital in case I pop early.

Needless to say that I am not impressed with the way they worded things. Such as “denies” substance abuse in current pregnancy??? Wtf? I don’t do drugs period, besides the antibiotics they shove down throat. Yeah, I used to smoke weed, but I kicked that to the curb without a problem when I found out I was pregnant with my eldest son. 10- 11 YEARS AGO!!! I don’t do fuckin drugs period. Ughhhhhhhh….

image

All Rights Reserved. All Photos Property of Pauline King Shannon (Pooks) ©

It also says to monitor me for any indications to involve them (C.A.S) in current pregnancy.

A) The reason CAS got involved in the first place was because a doctor accused me of being on crack when I actually had mastitis. And rather then doing their job, Dr. Lee settled for his assumption.

B) CAS remained involved because of MY EX and the domestic abuse. But yeah, CAS, specifically Lara Downing, fucked up on that one, and thinks it’s safer to have my children with the man that assaulted their mother, than their mother. Make any sense?? Oh that’s right, I opened up with the truth that my ex was in my home when he wasn’t supposed to be due to a restraining order. I guess that would have been too much work for her to have to start from scratch. But what does she expect from a domestic abuse case? Yeah, I was lying on his behalf. Because he supposedly loved me, and was the only person that cared for me. Everybody else was just trying to tear our family apart. That’s the kind of shit a victim of abuse gets brainwashed with. Anyways,  out of spite, this lazy immature worker did everything in her power to have my kids placed with my ex. Congrats! She succeeded, and now schools wonder why they have so many problems with my eldest son. Smh. Oh yeah, and since my ex was around when he wasn’t supposed to be, that whole cleanliness bullshit that got pinned on me only, that’s on him too. That’s the fuckin truth.

Society and all these organizations are fuckin retarded!
Correction. Not retarded. That’s not the word. I know some peeps may find that word offensive. But yeah… perhaps bias, prejudice, racist, ignorant, so on and so forth, are better words to use.

Heck! Even my biological cousin shares this perspective from her own experience. She said: ” Automatic substance abuser. Because you’re native. I get labeled immediately as well, even when I was pregnant.”

So yeah. Welcome to the life of a native. Isn’t that fuckin bullshit or what?

Not all natives are substance abusers. Many of my generation learned by the example of our elders. Not all of them. But yeah, there are those trying to drown their traumatic experiences from Residential Schools. The torture and genocide of our people and culture. Sure those times may be over, not entirely obviously, but clearly our elders still suffer internally from those memories. I imagine it would be like how a soldier would suffer PTSD after returning from war. People having to live with seeing or experiencing inhumane shit that is to be kept “confidential.”

Anyways… that’s enough for this post. I will post another regarding other aspects of my life, either later on today or in the week. Thank you for reading my occasional rant. Peace and love – Pooks

“…racist thought and action says far more about the person they come from than the person they are directed at.”

– Chris Crutcher

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In Their Ideal Society

Hello again!

I know it’s been awhile since I blogged. I believe I skipped a week. But some time away doesn’t hurt once in awhile.

Anyways, umm… what are the major things that have been happening. Besides the obvious, preparing for Christmas. This year I get to have my children over for Christmas, so that’s going to be awesome. My son requested to have an awesome Christmas dinner, with banana bread and cheese cake for dessert. We shall see what we can do. As in my partner and I.

Not only that but we have also been trying to prepare for our baby that is on the way. We managed to find a play pen for a good deal at a nearby second hand store. That was awesome. And My man’s sister gave us a bunch of stuff for the baby, a changing mat, clothes, bibs, etc. etc. Even though we do not know the sex of our baby.

Which reminds me, I might be getting an ultrasound sooner than expected. During my last doctor appointment, the doctor said my baby is underweight. I found that devastating. Because now Dr. M. Kennedy, like most doctors with a native patient, jump to the worst conclusions. Oh she’s native, she must be on drugs, or drinking alcohol. He was getting ready to call C.A.S, which upset and totally pissed me off. I mean, C.A.S has interfered enough with my life, like half of it. And this freakin doctor wanted to call them just because I “have a history with them.” He said, “They are there to help.” Hahaha! Bullshit! Not with my experience. They are there to help white people, the Capitalists, and the genocide. To rid people of colour in their ideal society.

I mean, years ago, it was a doctor at Victoria Hospital that got C.A.S involved back when my son was a baby. That judgmental, discriminating jackass jumped to conclusions and rather than testing me to see what’s up. He automatically accuses me of coming down off of crack, when truthfully, as the nurses found out after the fact, I had a breast infection; mastitis. These doctors should do their jobs rather than jumping to conclusions based on race. That’s very unprofessional. So yeah, haven’t really trusted doctors since. I hate them all equally.

Anyways,  back to recent times, another doctor came in and said that they won’t be calling C.A.S because they are not concerned. However, they will be monitoring the baby’s growth throughout my pregnancy. Which is why they want another ultrasound done soon.

I have to make sure my following appointments land on Mondays, so I get the same 2 doctors as last time. They want to be the ones to follow my pregnancy, and be there when I’m in labour. The Victoria Family Medical Centre doctors work in alternating teams. So yeah, if I book a different day, different doctor. I don’t mind the female doctor, but the male one, ooooooh… he got on my bad side for even mentioning C.A.S. However, I will remain co-operative. I know what could be stunting the growth of my baby, caffeine and smoking.

Anyways, after my appointment, my man came home to me crying. I’m so fortunate to have him there as support. Even when I’m all emotional. Right away he started to do some research on healthy foods that can help with weight gain during pregnancy, and went shopping for those foods. So yeah, even my diet has changed. I try to avoid drinking beverages with caffeine. We’re even being more careful with the kind of teas I drink, since there are teas that have caffeine within them. So yeah, sticking to more fruity, non caffeinated teas. Mornings are rough without some kind of caffeine, but I’ll manage. As for smoking, I smoked maybe 10 per day, and have been cutting back. Maybe I’ll be able to ween myself off them eventually. Fingers crossed! It’s not an easy habit to kick, I’ve tried and failed before.

Other than that, I missed my Leads appointment last week. I misplaced my bus pass, which turned out to be right under my nose the whole time. Go figure. I mean, since it’s getting colder, I wear a hoodie, a fleece vest ( since I can’t zip up my coat over my tummy), and my winter coat. So yeah, lots of pockets. Anyways, my bus pass was in my sweater, under all the layers the whole time. Ughh… Luckily, I was able to re-book. I mean I was looking forward to my appointment. I was just about to head out the door, and yeah, missing bus pass.

At the last appointment I attended at Leads, my worker noticed that I was fidgeting with my bus transfer as we talked. By the time I was done folding it, she said it looked like a snowflake. So that gave her the idea to make snowflakes at the next appointment. So I was curious to see if that was actually going to happen. Were we actually going to make paper snowflakes? Not your regular kind of Leads appointment. Haha! Creativity is contagious. I love it!

So yeah, I’ll see her tomorrow and find out.

As for the New School of Colour, I completed a small acrylic painting last week, and will probably be starting something new this evening.  While I’m there, my man said that is when he will be buying me a Christmas gift, and stashing it somewhere in the house. Lol

Speaking of painting, I still have to create something for the Twitter Art Exhibit, the last piece I was working on got messed up because I spilled tea all over it. So yeah, got to make another.

I also want to paint my front window with a Christmas theme this year. I got some tips from the former New School of Colour facilitator, since I knew he did that kind of thing at The Ark in the past. The thing is, finding the time. Newho, yeah, best of luck to him wherever life takes him. We was talking about getting a PH.D and becoming a doctor in the past. Maybe that’s what he’s doing. Good luck fellow rainbow ninja! We all know how much I love doctors. Hahaha! Maybe he will turn out to be a decent one. Who knows?!

During my last visit with my kids, we went for a walk to the park, and then wondered down streets we’ve never been down. I think I have a good sense of direction, so we didn’t get lost. Lol

Anyways, that’s life lately. Thank you for reading! Peace and Love! – Pooks

“Making assumptions simply means believing things are a certain way with little or no evidence that shows you are correct, and you can see at once how this can lead to terrible trouble.”

– Lemony Snicket

All Rights Reserved. All Photos Property of Pauline King Shannon (Pooks) ©

All Rights Reserved. All Photos Property of Pauline King Shannon (Pooks) ©

Two left Standing

Well here I am, writing again. Twice in one day. Actually, now it’s past midnight, so technically it’s the next day. I just think of it as the same day because I have not slept yet.

The reason for me writing again is because my biological family had a bit of a scare tonight. We almost lost someone valuable to us.

My cousin found out that her mother was hospitalized, and that she was drinking and nearly froze to death. My heart sank when I read that on Facebook. As I’ve mentioned before, freezing to death is how two of my uncles passed away, and my grandmother.

My aunt and my uncle are the only elders left of the Kings. There’s only two left standing. And the way I see it, they are the closest connections I got to my deceased Mother, and any family history that we may have. So yes, it would be a tragic loss if either of those two were to die.

The good news is, my aunt is okay, and is recovering.

My cousin is pretty hurt, angry, sad, worried…a whole bunch of emotions regarding my aunts addiction to alcohol. Understandable, it is her mother in the hospital. Of coarse she’s going to be frantic.

Sadly substance abuse is how a lot of our people cope with life as a native. Many residential school survivors use substances to bury the pain and trauma. It’s not really an excuse, but the truth of our cultures past reality. It clearly still has an impact to this day. Very devastating.

I remember when I went up north for the family reunion, My Aunt, another relative and I went to the bar. My aunt did drink quite a bit. I don’t think she remembers telling me what she told me regarding her own experiences in a residential school. She kept her head down, her back hunched, what I saw and heard was a woman in severe emotional pain. I listened and hugged her. What she shared with me, I will not repeat. I think she trusted me with that, which is why she told me. That is her truth, that I hope she can gain the courage to share wide open one day. Anyways, I didn’t drink that night. I drank lots of Pepsi and 7Up though. It’s a good thing too, because I was able to walk my Aunt back to where we were staying. Too bad nobody sober was with her this time around.

Regardless, I am glad she is okay, and that we didn’t lost another King. I worry about those two, my Aunt and my Uncle. They are homeless. So yeah, it’s hard to keep track of where they are, and how they’re doing.

However, there is a way to help somewhat, by helping their local emergency shelter. I just checked the Aviva website, even though the shelter didn’t fund-raise enough,  or get enough votes, there’s still an option to donate to the Red Lake Area Emergency Shelter. So if you can donate, please do. Miigwech in advance.

https://www.avivacommunityfund.org/ideas/acf19439

I think I’ll finish this post off with a poem written by my Aunt. One of my favorites. If you like it, find her on FB and inquire about her book; A Book of Poetry. Anyways, here it goes;

An Indians Tears

In the realm of my dreams

no artistry comes to mind this artist has become blind

eyes that once shone with pride

behind dark glasses, they now hide

memories of days gone by

remembering, she begins to cry

“Indians don’t cry”, so they say

their pride won’t let them anyway

Too often I have cried in sorrow

wishing only for a better tomorrow

this Indian woman is not too proud to cry

you have witnessed my tears, and yet, don’t ask “why?”

is it out of respect or out of shame

that you huddle close, as you whisper my name

Don’t worry yourselves so

for I already know

my tears are a hindrance to you all

But, they will continue to fall

who knows when this face will smile again

who will be around to ease the pain

no answers reach my ears

as your eyes now too, fill with tears

don’t hang your heads in shame

for, our tears have a name

-FREEDOM-

 © 2008 Sarah Jane King

Thanks for reading. I know my family has it’s problems, but I love them. Society played it’s part when it comes to colonialism. There’s no doubt about that. So there is no point in blaming the victim. Maybe it’s time to wake up and take a real good look at how First Nations people are treated, in the past, AND in the present. Perhaps it’s time to make a right in a more positive direction. Fuck your racist elitists!

Just the fact that I can relate to my aunts poems regarding racism, and being native in this world, scares me. Especially because she wrote those poems years ago, and I am the next generation. Wow. that is pretty shocking. Are our children going to feel this pain as well? – Pooks

“When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching

— they are your family. ”- Jim Butcher

Turmoils Locked Gate & the Invisible Path

So once again, I had chickened out with a job interview. I had gotten bombarded by the evil critic in my head. As I was getting ready for the interview, I just got really anxious. I felt under pressure to be something I am not. I tried to trick myself into thinking of it as dressing up for Halloween. But the negative thoughts won, and I ended up not even going. I had canceled my Leads appointment for this interview, and yeah, didn’t make it to the damn interview. Ugh! Fuck up.

I spoke to a friend about it, and yeah, perhaps it’s a lack of confidence.

As I was going through my clothes, changing my mind over and over on what to wear. Will it be good enough? Does this fit their standards of being fashionable? Does this make me stand out, or blend in? To criticizing my hair. I have really thick hair, and it’s very time consuming to tame. So I was worried it would get frizzy on me by the time I get there. Should I wear a pony tail? a bun? Or try something different? But the most negative thought that did me in was over the colour of my skin. As soon as they see that your brown, they’re gonna reject you.

Anyway, I felt like I was feeling all this unnecessary stress over self-image. I’m usually not that hard on myself when it comes to my personal appearance. Do all women have to go the extra mile when getting ready for an interview? Why?  It’s like we can’t be concerned whether we look professional enough, it’s whether or not we are “pretty” enough. Maybe interviews should be done blind-folded. The employer should be blind folded, because let’s face it, looks don’t determine wither or not you can do the job. That’s a stupid rule to judge by. I understand depending on the business, they don’t want see a slob. But the amount of pressure that is put on a woman is freakin ridiculous. Do you want a worker? Or a mannequin? Or maybe even a blow up doll? Maybe you want freakin Barbie and her unrealistic proportions! Got to wonder sometimes.

So yeah, thanks for the unnecessary stress. I was even picking my hang nails until my fingers were bleeding. Yeah, ouch! But that’s what anxiety does to me, it makes me pick myself apart.

It does bum me out that at the last minute, I was overwhelmed with this feeling of incompetence and self-doubt. But maybe my flaws are what keeps me humble. I mean, this society wants you to be kinda arrogant, and competitive. Well… I’m not the competitive type. Honestly, it’s one of those things that annoy me. I prefer to do my own thing, and I’m not interested in competing or comparing myself to others.

As I was getting ready, that’s exactly what I was doing!! That is so not like me at all!! Comparison? Thinking such things as; “They will choose a white girl over me.” What the fuck?!! I don’t think I’m good enough, and my nationality is part of that reason. I should be proud of what I am, but my race is often ridiculed, and shamed in this fuckin world!! Do you not see the affects of your damn racism?!

No, I’m not the most confident person. I am still scarred with a shit load of emotional and verbal abuse in my life time. Shit that comes back, and bites me in the ass in the present. Probably why my internal dialog can be such a verbal abusive bitch, which is destructive to myself, and holds me back a lot of the time when it comes to opportunities. Abuse helped mold that critic in my head, which tries to convince me that all the criticism I’ve endured is true. I’m incapable, a low life, a bum, a fuck up. You’re just pretty. Your sister is gorgeous. Nothing compared to her. So on and so forth.  No wonder I don’t feel good enough. Some of this shit in my head goes back to my childhood. It really makes it hard to believe in myself, ever. Just when I think I leave that shit behind, it finds ways to haunt me. It all comes back at the worst times, times of opportunity.

Anyway, since I felt so stressed over my image for this one interview, perhaps that job isn’t worth it. Another interview will come along, and hopefully I won’t be so hard on myself.

Morgue, the shock artist from the Venice Beach Freakshow, posted a status recently that made me think. I was recently advised to “be myself” by a friend, but perhaps I need to be so much more. Be Pooks, and what I envision Pooks to be. I need to “become”.

Anyway, Morgue’s FB status:

“Don’t be yourself, become yourself. They are not the same thing. Don’t settle for what you are, don’t become complacent. Always strive to improve, overcome and become the best version of yourself that you can be.

I am seeing a lot of people using “be yourself” as an excuse for laziness. Of course, never impose the standards of a failed society on yourself, but do not use it as an excuse to not improve. Don’t stand still, always move forward.

Don’t give a fuck what unintelligent, close minded people think of you and always strive to become a better version of yourself.” – Morgue

A nice friendly reminder. Just as Dali said he was becoming more Dali. My mission is to become more Pooks. Thank you Morgue. I needed that. To me, Pooks is greatness. An unstoppable creative force in this world. And believe me, it’s been quite the journey since the day I first signed my art with this alias name “Pooks”. It’s taken on a journey of it’s own that I don’t really have control over, I just create the art and write. Even though I try to live the mandatory “normal” life that is expected of me, the blue collar (if even) slavery.  I am currently trying to leap into the pink collar world. The road I need to be on for Pooks is elsewhere, matter of fact, it’s invisible. Not that it doesn’t exist, the road is there through what I create and where that takes me. There is no fuckin collar. I ain’t no fuckin dog! Haha!

Pooks is my creative outlet, expression, given a name, face, and persona. The art piece, that not only creates art, but is the art. Very few can accomplish that, Marilyn Manson, David Bowie, … just a couple examples. I hope to do the same.

So maybe for next time, when another interview comes around, I just need to remind myself, “I am Pooks.” To me, that is pretty extraordinary.  – Pooks

“You have been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.”- Louise L. Hay

A Creative Growing Force

Back to my regular blogging schedule. Technically should have been yesterday. Tuesday…Wednesday…close enough. As you may have noticed I had quite a bit to shed off lately, especially regarding my ex. But I guess what he doesn’t realize is that the more bullshit he puts me through, the more stronger I get, the less he’s gonna like me. I will become more assertive, less fearless, and less tolerant of his abuse. Perhaps even immune to his power trips.

Anyway, currently my access with our children has been cut off.I was to supposedly expect to hear from Merrymount, but of course that has not happened as of yet. Although I did leave a message for  Merrymount stating that my ex was considering the use of their services again, because the arrangement between us wasn’t working. The communication between my ex and I sucks. More like, his communication skills suck. I mean, with his anxiety (more like paranoia), trust issues, and unresolved mental health issues, it’s practically impossible to cooperatively work with the guy. He’s always assuming shit, jumping to conclusions and making accusations. Not only that, but he is such a coward, rather than facing people and any problems that may arise and work it out, his solution is to run because he feels threatened. The world revolves around him, never putting our kids into consideration and how his actions may be effecting our children. I mean, the moment they adjust to anything, he disrupts it all, and swipes the carpet so to speak. I mean, home school? It’s basically isolation from the rest of the world over his own fear.

I found out last Thursday at Leads that my own communication skills aren’t as bad as I thought they were. They could use some work, but the type of communicator I am, according to the quiz thing I did at Leads, was that of a Controller/ Director. Although, I probably just don’t believe it yet. It could be a self-esteem thing. Or when I think of controlling, I think of abuse, and that is not the type of person I want to be. So I often reject opportunities that require leadership.

Although I guess I am somewhat of a director type when it comes to my parenting skills. I’m not abusive, but I lead. In that case there is no choice. Guidance through the day is necessary. I can get my kids from point A to point B with no problem. I kind of morph into a coach outdoors, which is totally bizarre, because I would have never imagined such a thing. Haha!

Anyway, I am getting sidetracked. Since I think it’ll be awhile since I see my kids again. I have to move on like I don’t have kids. Dust off, and move on. Stay busy. So I job search, and believe it or not, I got a rapid response. Calling back took some courage though. No one answered, so I had to leave a message on their voice mail. Prior to making that call I was filling my head with what if’s. Winter is around the corner, I’d have to be there for 5am, what if the roads and sidewalks are poorly plowed? that could effect me being on time. What if I sleep in? What if I can’t do it? What if this job forces me to give up time with my children (even though my access is currently cut off for bullshit reasons)? What if I can no longer make it to the New School of Colour? My head was filling up with all these what ifs, but then I recalled that one quote that says to do what your scared to do. I looked at my situation, I was terrified to make this freakin phonecall. This is new. What if I get the job? Yeah, what if you get the job? how can that be a negative? It’s a new opportunity, new experience. It would be my first actual job in London, Ontario. So make the damn call!! Somebody actually wants to hire!! Wouldn’t it be about damn time. I mean, I’ve been here over a decade, and all I could land are volunteer placements. Experience is a good thing. It’s not permanent, it’s temporary. Note, I do intend giving the whole University thing another shot in the future. Besides, if I get it, I could do what Mama’s do, and that is build and nest. So yes, I finally got the courage to call back and left a message to book an interview. Hopefully I wasn’t speaking too fast. I was nervous. Even if I was talking to a machine.

This past Monday at the New School of Colour we, the artists that attend the program, were given surveys to fill out. So that the New School of Colour can continually be financially supported. I think my answer was brief to why the New School of Colour is important to me. I kind of held back. But the honest truth is as an aboriginal woman, it can be hard to find a place that accepts you. First Nations people experience a lot of social barriers in modern society. So I feel I found my place where I am entirely accepted. I do struggle with my own mental health issues, but I find art to be a healthy form of release. It has allowed me to not only turn negative emotions into a positive. But also helped me explore what I can create with positive emotions as well. In my own current personal situation, I have to cope with on-going abuse. It turns my pain and suffering into a strength. I’ve been going to the New School of Colour since 2011, and the other members that attend have not only become my friends, but my support and family. As I had said the first time I had to answer that question, is literally and truly, that it has saved my life. Art Saves. Before attending the New School of Colour I was suicidal. To this day it keeps me strong, and gives me something to look forward to. It takes my mind off things temporarily, and is a positive environment where we all have one goal, create.

I like that I have the freedom to paint whatever it is I wish to paint. Although, some artists prefer being assigned and challenged to a project. I much rather my own expression, or experimentation, and it is perfectly allowed. If it weren’t for the New School of Colour, I wouldn’t be the artist/ writer you know and love as Pooks. The fully open, vulnerable, creative growing force that I am. The New School of Colour has reunited me with my passions, and they were meant to be shared.

Newho, yeah, that would have been a lot to fit into a little space on the paper, that only gives you 3-4 little lines to answer. I tried to break it down. It’s therapeutic. I love muh peeps! Art Saves.

Tomorrow is my Leads appointment. Unless I hear back from an employer and they want an interview, well, then I will have to re-schedule my Leads appointment. I’m sure they would understand. A job interview would be a valid reason.

Just like when it came to my education, I find when it comes to job searching, my possibilities are endless. I am entering the customer service/ retail field, and that gives me plenty of options. I can go any route from here. I just got to remain optimistic. Yeah, I’m entering the slave system. But I cannot let that be my focus. Focus on the experience and building for my kids.

While I actually make an effort in this world, even though there are a lot of things I disagree with. I mean I am an artist at heart, why am I being forced to do something else? Note, it is more of an effort than my ex will ever do. I go to Leads Employment Services. I actually went to see councilors and even a psychiatrist. Although I find my best forms of therapy are through creative outlets. Expression through art and writing. I job search. I’ve made attempts with a secondary education… My ex just plans to live off of welfare for the remainder of his life. Sure I may stumble along the way, but I keep trying, don’t I? Until the idea of money is obliterated, I have to. I cannot support three people on a single welfare budget. Let alone a mooch that get’s more from welfare than I do, plus a baby bonus, and still asks ME for money and smokes. I even bought him a bag of milk. And since my ex refuses to give me joint custody, which could financially support the kids on my end. I have to find another solution. So excuse me if I don’t think of him in a more enlightened manner. Our kids and I are often the ones suffering the consequences of his self-centered idiocy.

Anyway, forward is the only option. His delusional mindset thinks we can go backwards? I don’t think so. I deserve a hell of a lot better, and so do our children. At least I can see that, if no one else can.           – Pooks

“You will evolve past certain people. Let yourself.”- Mandy Hale

Release the Closed Door

Blog day! And there are a few things that are on my mind, completed unrelated to each-other. So I guess the question is, where to begin.

Things are going good with the visits with my kids, but as I’ve mentioned before there are some annoying things I have to put up with when it comes to my ex. Such as he thinks he knows me so well, or his idea of me, yeah that gets really annoying. He clearly doesn’t know me at all. Obviously. I mean, he was trying to tell me that I was all devastated when I turned 30 years old.  That I was all miserable about aging and that I was trashed on my 30th birthday. First off, he wasn’t there, so who the fuck is he to say what happened, he doesn’t have the slightest clue. Secondly, whoopidee shit. I’m in my 30’s.  Thanks to my Mama, Elizabeth King, for good genes, no one believes I’m 31 half the time anyways. Haha! I’m always getting I.D’ed at convenient stores. I guess the way I dress doesn’t help. I like to play with both “genders roles” when it comes to how I dress. Half female, half male… I’m pretty sure I’ve made my fascination with androgyny apparent. Thank you Diana Thorneycroft! Ever since I saw her photography back in high-school, I have seen androgyny as an art. I see nothing but beauty within in it.

Anyway, yeah, I’m pretty sure I blogged what happened on my 30th birthday here on WordPress. I was invited for dinner with 2 very sweet Christian friends of mine, whom eventually moved out to Saskatchewan. They made me a steak dinner, baked an awesome cake, we played around on the acoustic guitar, and yeah, we had some Crown Royal and Coke, but didn’t get plastered as my ex likes to assume. He doesn’t know, and has never met these fabulous friends of mine, so he has no right to say shit about their character. Let alone mine, considering our contact got cut off around that time. Thank god, because I was getting verbally abused through text messages by my ex. So it was a good thing I lost my cell, and all contact was cut off for a period of time. I has given time to actually heal so to speak.

Normally, I don’t drink. My thing is normally coffee. If I’m an addict of anything, it is caffeine. But lately, I’ve had a couple nights out with a friend that is visiting for the summer, a former co- facilitator of the New School of Colour. Matter of fact, she will be opening up and facilitating on Wednesdays starting next week, just for the month of August. Anywho, no I didn’t get plastered, my limit is 3 beers. Not what my ex called ” a beer” either. He used to call one of those large bottles “a beer”, which is like 3 in one. Whatever. I had a nice happy buzz at the St. Regis Tavern. On our second night there, after meeting up for coffee at Fire Roasted Coffee Company and creating some art ( I experimented and surprised myself drawing with the opposite hand), I got to watch her perform with her ukelele. Even the New School of Colour’s/ Old East Village media dude came out. That was cool. Lots of fun. There was lots of talent there during Open Mic Night.

I mean, my ex acts like I’m this social drunk person. But no, I’m an introverted hermit. I’m indoors, in my home majority of the time. I think the world is overwhelming and chaotic, and to avoid any anxiety, I normally stay in. Unless, I’m invited out by familiar people I know. I guess I’m like a vampire that way. You have to invite me first. Unless you are Julie or Ducky, whom, I visit spontaneously without notice. Haha!

Anyway, enough about that. I could explain myself 1000’s times, but my ex will just continue to think what he thinks. He has convinced himself that I am someone I am not. That’s his problem. It’s all in your head nut bar!

Newho, enough about him and his nonsense. It’s out of my system, let’s carry on!

My friend visiting from Montreal has asked a rather interesting question, what is it about creating art with other people? I guess she wants to pin point on that energy that takes place within the New School of Colour, and places like it. I do admit, creating art on my own, say at home, is a lot different than it is surrounded by other artists. But than again, at home alone, motivation can be a struggle. Even inspiration mind you. I mean, I was going to paint on the lid of a tin cookie container. I painted it black, and that was it. I hit a dead end. Haha! Although at the New School of Colour, idea’s tend to flow more easy. That might be because I am surrounded by art, and inspired by it. Not only that, but when you’re alone, idea’s can become stagnant. What I mean by stagnant is, you produce what you know, rather than actually pushing yourself to create something more challenging. In an environment where there is constant creating, there is that opportunity to learn from others around you, and grow. Hence, why I once defined the New School of Colour as a garden within an artist statement of mine, and why I keep returning.  I’ve been going since 2011, and the artists there just keep improving at their own pace. It truly is magical to see. As for motivation, we all become fans of each-others work, there is a lot of encouragement and praise that takes place within it. Each artist plays a role of inspiration. Even if you don’t think you’re that experienced, you could be inspiring to another artist within that studio. It doesn’t have to be the art. It could be the stages, the progress, the amount of effort put into your work, the passion. There is no doubt, that it is a positive environment, and I probably just touched base on the tip of it’s nose. There is a lot more to it, that energy that takes place, to define. I think to have an art therapist explore more on that, would be interesting to see. The information they gather from it all. I am just one perspective, one artist. There is a lot more perspectives to see through in our underground art studio. It’s quite amusing that our studio is underground, it’s like our secret little hide out. We go in and gather in our basement studio down under, and we come out splashing the community with art!

Besides all that, this month is almost over, and I will soon be back on Ontario Works, because the Dean of Art and Humanities at the University thinks I need to focus on my mental health, and what not. “I am happy to see that you are now seeking support, but I do believe that you to resolve the issues that have plagued you before you return to school rather than during your time at school. For this reason, and the fact that little was done to address your difficulties at the time they arose,  I have to deny your petition..” Haha! “Resolve”. That’s cute. Dude! I’ve been passed on from councilor to councilor ever since I was 6 years old. Now, if those “professionals” couldn’t help me “resolve” whatever is supposedly wrong with me, it’s likely it’s not going to be resolved. It’s permanent. It’s just finding what will help me cope through my waves of anxiety and depression without being doped up on prescribed drugs. I refuse to go there.

The whole, I am NOW seeking support. Sure I may not be consistent. But don’t tell me I’m not seeking support, I have. For years mind you, it’s not just a recent thing. Not to mention, when you get that freakin depressed, to the point your shutting the world out, it’s not an easy thing to suddenly snap out of. But then again, this guy clearly doesn’t understand anything regarding mental health issues.

Not to mention, that the way the economy is headed, and the global issues of today. There’s going to be more people experiencing anxiety and depression. It is becoming a norm, because technically, we are all in danger. Our own leaders and governments are putting us in that position, poisoning our food with chemicals, destroying our natural resources with oil and fracking. Our own disgusting prime minister approving genocide in another country. It doesn’t matter what race, or religion they are, it’s humans killing humans. Not only that, but humans exterminating defenseless humans, children. That is horrific. And if that has no affect on you as a human being, than what the fuck is wrong with you? I mean, you’d think people would have evolved from past events of genocide, the outcome, the consequences. Have you people not learned fuck all from what happened to your Canadian Indigenous people? You’re just going to create more people like me that cannot conform into your system, but will be accepted by fellow outcasts, rebels and freaks. You’ll just create a growing enemy.

But no, by all means. Stigmatize me. Act like there’s a cure. There isn’t. Leaders are the problem.

“the extracurricular activities you undertook don’t appear excessive”

For someone with anxiety, yeah it was. I was on the board of directors, I was a volunteer at  The Arts Project, my schedule with my children’s visits changed to weekends, I dropped some of those things so that I could focus more on my studies. But I guess I’m suppose to  drive myself like a slave until I’m to drained to properly look after my kids, or want to continue to create art. Right? I didn’t let go of the New School of Colour, sorry, that keeps me sane so to speak. It is my voice in a way. But I don’t expect a person so conditioned into the system to understand that. A sheep is driven by money, convinced they NEED money to live. Fuck the money, that’s not what you need to live. You need your natural resources, DUH!! But not only that, you need each-other! Stop killing off your fellow humans for petty fuckin reasons. It’s stupid. Money makes people stupid. Ughhh! It’s sickening. Yeah, I’d rather call myself an alien.

I got off track there. But yeah, what may be too much for one person, may not be too much for the next. But I guess this Dean cannot comprehend that.

The Dean was my art history teacher, the pop culture and media half of the course during Fall/Winter 2013. And as I explained before, he didn’t teach as well as the women do at the university. Just because you move your hands it doesn’t mean you’ll keep the class engaged. Not to mention, in the first class he said “Capitalists decide what art is.” And yeah, I was repulsed and I highly disagree with that sentence. The artist will not only tell you what art is, but they will show you. Too much credit is given to the Capitalists. Fuck them!

Anyway, that e-mail didn’t say anything about when I could register again. Hopefully in 2015. At least I was able to improve my mark in Sociology. In the mean time, back onto Ontario Works. I’ll continue to see my psychologist at the University. Speaking of which, I will have to re-book. I missed the last appointment because that e-mail got me rather distraught. Emotionally, I needed the time to cope with that disappointment. Thank my friend for inviting me  out, it’s shown me, that positive experiences can still be had even after receiving bad news. It’s not the end of the world, and I can still make the best out of life.

Onto OW, and job searching I guess. Back to square one. Some volunteering, maybe get some kind of art related part-time job I could tolerate. I’m not going to be able to support having my kids on weekends with just OW alone. So time to start thinking of places I could possibly apply to. I admit, I have lacked effort in job searching before. I like to live spontaneously, so a job restricts that to the bore of repetition. Partly why I despise dishes so much. It’s not like I can’t do it, I just don’t look forward to it. There is no creativity in repetition. My mind likes to wonder, explore, and try new things. Restrains, I don’t like restrains period. But you know what they say, one door closes, another opens. I just need to find it. – Pooks

“The greatest crimes in the world are not committed by people breaking the rules but by people following the rules. It’s people who follow orders that drop bombs and massacre villages.”

– Bansky

 

 

 

 

 

Dysfunctional by Choice

I still have not made it back to class. What can I say? I suck at Mondays, and to top it off, I suck at mornings. I fall right back into the sleep patterns of a night owl. Completely backwards.

Although last Monday, even though I was awake at 6:30am, I looked up at the topic that was going to be discussed in my Sociology tutorial, and it was about Aboriginals. A topic that would just get me more depressed than I already was at the time. I mean, Aboriginals aren’t really respected in society. Matter of fact, Aboriginals get looked down upon as less than homeless people. At least those are the things that are being taught within these textbooks. Really depressing shit. So I didn’t go. I didn’t think my frame of mind at the time could handle anymore depressing knowledge of how fucked up our society really is.

Not only that, but one of the places I do stop in is Indigenous Services, and it seems like every time I do show up, I’m getting dragged into the office, where I have to explain how much I’m fucking up and blah blah blah. Not something I look forward to. I mean, that’s what my counselor at SOAHAC is for. She’s the one that deals with my mental issues.

As for my other two classes, I’m pretty sure I fucked those right up this term. I mean I already mentioned what happened with Visual Arts and staring at a wire sculpture of myself, and not liking what had I seen.  I haven’t been back since. As for Art History; Art, Media, and Popular Culture?  I feel like the Professor had said all I needed to hear within one sentence on the first day. He mentioned how it was Capitalists that decide what is considered art.

Funny how I wanted to know more about Capitalists and the world around me, and that’s all I hear about. Capitalists this. Capitalists that. Yeah,  now I know what they mean by be careful what you wish for.  Although it seems like students are expected to want to be like the Capitalists, Haha! I don’t think so! Why would I want to be part of a class that makes others suffer to benefit themselves and their wealth? Seems heartless to me. Just a bunch of sellouts that sold their soul.

So I am questioning wither or not this education thing is for me. I mean, it seems like it is meant to turn me into something I’m not. Not a trap I want to get caught up in. Besides, these days, an education doesn’t guarantee a job, but it definitely guarantees a huge debt.

Sure when I started, the plan was to learn something in a field that can get me a job that can help invest in what I love to do. But my concern is the time. Say I did actually graduate, and got a job doing something I was never meant to do in the first place. My time and energy could be taken away by a job I couldn’t give a fuck about, leaving me with no time or energy for what I do love to do.  See the dilemma? Do I really want to make that sacrifice? Not really. That would be giving up who I am, to slave away for the benefit of somebody else. I can just see myself being too tired and drained to create art, or to write freely.

Anyway, for the past week,  it was like I shut myself off. I have no desire to function and play by the rules in this little game, or system. It’s like I only come back to life when I am either going to see my kids, or when I want to create.  Other than that, I am dysfunctional. It’s like the way this system works, you are meant to value material things, and money so that you can buy and consume those material things. Why? So that your money can go back to the greedy Capitalists. So that you’ll want more money, slave for it, buy more junk, and the money goes back to the greedy Capitalists. It’s a never ending cycle that only benefits the Capitalists in the end. Well, people may forget what is truly valuable in this world, but I haven’t forgotten, and I refuse to let it go. That goes for my kids, my gifts ( art and writing) , and Mother Nature.

I’ll make another attempt to go to school on Wednesday, just for the sake of learning. But I honestly feel like when it comes to my dreams, I will have to take the road less traveled. Meaning I will have to put more time and energy into my art and writing, instead of playing or following by society’s rules, or “formula” to success. I’m starting to see those as distractions, taking me away from I need to do.

I was watching a documentary on David Bowie, and how he did not want to conform either. The only thing he was a slave to was his art. Sure he had his struggles, but he was committed. That commitment eventually led to his success.

Besides all that, my kids finally spent the night over. Although I will have to talk to Merrymount, so they can pass along the message to their father,  that our kids need to bring another set of clothing if they are going to spend the night. Everything I had, they out grew, and I gave away to 2 bartering events. So, they don’t have clothes here. What I ended up doing was giving them both a long t-shirt of mine to cover themselves with,while I threw the clothes they were wearing in the wash.

Besides that, they slept rather well over night.  I was surprised. I was expecting it to be a rough night, but it wasn’t. Perhaps the dim lamp lights, and classical tunage I was playing on youtube actually did help. I had classical music playing for 2 hours after they went to bed. And since I normally watch a movie before I sleep, I made sure to pick something they would not be interested in. So I chose a musical movie, The Newsies. I don’t know how it ended because I fell asleep. I was exhausted.

Surprisingly enough, I actually got my son and daughter outside, and away from my computer. My son will play online computer games, and if he’s not doing that, than that’s all he talks about.  It can get frustrating, I find myself wondering if he’s here to visit me, or my computer. Even when he plays, he plays as if it were a video-game. “Click Menu.” “Press A-A!” , meanwhile I’ll be sitting there trying to play with him, but I’m just like “What?!” Completely confused, because I don’t play video games. Not to mention, I’m baffled. Who does that?? This cannot be healthy. I have never seen or heard children play that way EVER! Normally children mimic the world around them. When he plays, he only mimics video games. Video games have robbed him of his imagination, it’s quite sad actually. Even my cellphone can be an issue, because he knows he can play games on it. Imagination is such a huge part of childhood. It seems like the only game that we play that doesn’t  end up being video game related is Hide N’ Seek. Life is not a video game, and it looks like Mommy is going to have to be the one to teach him that, because his dad sure as hell isn’t.

I am grateful that my daughter has taken an interest in art. Which means her imagination can be endless, not based around just one thing.

So yeah, I do have a challenge set before me , and that challenge is my very own son. Taking him to a park worked, he got to run, climb, and jump around. I think I will be trying to at least continue that during visits, make that more regular when they are with me.  Take advantage of the warmer weather approaching. At least make some of our time outdoors.

I originally just wanted to go for a walk. Just share something I love to do with my kids, walking with no particular destination. Plus, I wanted to work off all that food we just ate, and then we stumbled upon the park. That was a bonus.

While we were walking my son and daughter pretended the puddles were lava, and they were hopping from snow bank to snow bank.  That’s more like it. THAT is a healthy imagination. If going outdoors is what inspires it, than that is what we shall do.

Newho, that is enough rambling for today. An update and sharing concerns, and basically providing you, my reader, a window into my life.

For awhile there it did seem like I had given up, but nope. I mean, I have always wanted to publish a book. Didn’t realize how easy that was. Especially on Lulu.  By doing so,  one dream was accomplished, and I was like, now what do I do?  Start working on the second book. Write more, paint more, create more. – Pooks

p.s –  If you’re interested, you can find my book; Random Thoughts of an Alien Goddess, at the following link:

http://www.lulu.com/ca/en/shop/pauline-king-shannon-pooks/random-thoughts-of-an-alien-goddess/paperback/product-21456243.html

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Check that off on the Bucket List

No long post today. Unless I can try this again later, we’ll see. But for now, I will leave you with a little surprise that I put together that kept me up all night last night. I can finally say I did one thing I said I was going to do. Been saying I’d do this since I was a kid. So here it is! Just click on the link below. 🙂 – Pooks

http://www.lulu.com/shop/pauline-king-shannon-pooks/random-thoughts-of-an-alien-goddess/paperback/product-21447000.html

“You’ll learn, as you get older, that rules are made to be broken. Be bold enough to live life on your terms, and never, ever apologize for it. Go against the grain, refuse to conform, take the road less traveled instead of the well-beaten path. Laugh in the face of adversity, and leap before you look. Dance as though EVERYBODY is watching. March to the beat of your own drummer. And stubbornly refuse to fit in.”- Mandy Hale

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Ingrained in my Head

I am currently killing time at the moment. I usually wait until around 6am to take my garbage out. That way it’s not out all night, and my garbage bag doesn’t get mangled by stray cats, raccoons, or skunks. So I figured I might as well post another blog post.

I actually made it to a First Nation Housing Co-op meeting. I was nervous, of coarse, surrounded by people I don’t really know. Anyway, we had lunch, and the meeting was held afterward. So basically, I have been in First Nation Housing for 2 years, never been to a meeting, til now, and poof! There I was. Suddenly volunteering to be a part of the board of directors. I did turn some heads by doing so. People were probably thinking, who the fuck is this?! Ya know? I could be completely over my head, or this could be an opportunity to learn and gain new things. The whole point of a co-op is basically a community working together so that we all thrive, so to speak. It’s about time I pitch in. Enough grieving, and groveling. I really should give back to the people that have given me a roof over my head. Express some gratitude.

I may not understand much how things work financially within the co-op. One speaker was talking about it during the meeting, and I couldn’t have felt more lost. I’m not that great at math. I admit, it is not exactly one of my strong points. But, like I said, I have an opportunity to learn something. And for someone, like myself, I love to learn new things, it’s adventurous. It could even help me with my communication skills. Working in a team, possibly gain leadership skills ( Even though I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. The word “Leadership” intimidates me) .  Baby steps, steady as she goes.

Volunteering at The Arts Project has been helping. I usually am a floater for art exhibition shows, but the last two times I was an usher for plays that were being held there. So I kind of had to approach people and talk, it was a part of my job. I still don’t say much. But at least I have the courage to approach people and say “hi”, and smile.  It’s a start.

I’ve always struggled with carrying on conversations. For some reason, they usually come to an awkward halt. I just don’t know what to say. And when I do try to carry on a conversation, honestly, I feel like an idiot asking stupid questions. So yeah, I am usually the one that listens, while the other person babbles. It’s what I’m used to, not necessarily speaking. There’s a part of me that thinks no one cares what I have to say anyway. My thoughts and opinions are not valued. So be silent. But that is the abuse talking. It has been hard for me to break away from that, it’s ingrained in my head.

It is probably the reason why I normally back away from “Leadership” roles. I think I’m not capable for such a thing. I’m too dumb. Not surprising since my supposed mom treated me like I was stupid. She belittled me like I was stupid. You hear it enough, or get treated that way long enough it will sink in to a point where you’ll believe it.

I know I’m not that much of an idiot as she thinks I am, but I do still doubt myself. Even after high-school, proving to myself by getting mad at the student councilor, telling her to fuck off and let me do my thing! I passed my courses on my own. I even graduated from high-school, with awards for Art, English, and Ojibwe. I surprised the hell out of my dad and my eldest brother. But of coarse, my supposed mom, didn’t seem so thrilled at all.

Anyway, I tried my best not to make this blog about abuse, but it went that way. I had a lot of it in my life, so there is a lot to deal with. Things my counselor will eventually hear about soon enough. It’s an ongoing fear that holds me back from so many things. It’s like getting my foot stuck in the mud. Things that haunt me, within my own head that only I can conquer. At least, I am putting it into action, and am trying new things that will hopefully change the way I was trained to think. As in rid those thoughts for good.

Besides all that, I volunteered myself to be a part of a new movement; People vs Greed. It couldn’t be anymore perfect for me, considering how many times I’ve ranted and raved about my dislike of money, and the system built around it.  I like this new movement, it kind of connects it all together, Occupy, Idle No More, #Revolution. I wrote a poem about it awhile back, I’ll share with you. It’s kind of my Idle No More, People vs Greed, anti- religion poem. So, if you are of easily offended, I suggest, you do not read it. But then again, if I haven’t offended you yet, I will at some point. After-all, I am an artist, and my job is to push those barriers. Shock the world, in one form or another, as one might say. Enjoy! 🙂 – Pooks

http://pooks82.weebly.com/2/post/2013/05/she-cries-for-help.html