Sunday, September 28, 2008

Where I've been living

Hi friends! :)

Wow... it seems like an eternity since I last sat down to write a blog post. Lots of exciting things have happened, and, while I'm still somewhat in the process of catching up with all your blogs, I'll take a few minutes to fill you in with what my own life's been like. In a nutshell, I no longer live in an apartment (yay!) because, for the first time in my life, we've moved to a townhouse.

It didn't take me long to get used to the change, but there are a lot of little things that still catch me off-guard about living here. Like being so near the ground. When I was at the apartment, I always had the habit of looking out the window at what was going on below. There was a little crows' nest in a tree below our window that I loved peeking into... I watched the birds grow from tiny babies to dark-feathered teenagers who constantly squabbled for food. There was a tennis court where people walked their dogs or ran around with their kids, but rarely played tennis; I loved watching that too. Now, everything is so big and close and life-sized that I feel like I'm intruding on peoples' privacy when I peer out the window. It just feels awkward when you're trying to look at a squirrel (I never saw so many squirrels up close and personal before!) and there's someone sitting in their back-yard -- not the best scenario for taking pictures, either. I've barely taken any since coming here, mostly because I've been so busy, but here are two I snapped yesterday:



Just a note about that... from the ninth-floor window of our old apartment, all the treetops were below us. It's an interesting feeling to be surrounded by trees, to look outside and not see the horizon because the view is obstructed by branches and leaves. Because of that, I no longer get the direct, uninterrupted sunlight I had at my old apartment: the light here flickers. I was sitting in the living room at about five o'clock one day when I noticed that. It was a really magical moment... the sunlight produced a kaleidoscope of moving, shifting shadows as it passed through the branches and fluttering leaves outside the window. It created the same sort of atmosphere as a flickering candle does, only in the daytime. Little, minute details like these are what I notice and love most about this new home.

My favourite room here is actually my own. I had it painted in Behr's "Ocean Pearl" -- a sort of sage-green, beige-ish, greyish tone. It's given everything in the room a sort of vintagey feel, and, as time goes on, I plan to add some little Victorian details like roses and letter-boxes to accentuate this theme.

Anyways, this post has been way too long. I'll write a second post, "What I've been doing," in a few days.

Love, Oksy

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Work in Progress (to be continued)














Day 1... I sat down and began sketching a red book lying flat on the table ... the rest of the image just began to emerge.


















Day 2... she has the beginnings of a face! Sorry about the colours... this photo was shot under indoor lighting.























And she has an eye. :) A left eye, no less. Which, of course, means that I have to painstakingly cover up the right side of the picture while I do the other half so I don't smudge it. I should have thought this out better!

I'm moving tomorrow... will be off the computer for at least a day or two.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

Lesson Learned.

As I was walking into my apartment building the other day, I saw a frail, elderly man walking up to the elevator. I noticed that he had deep blue eyes; they stood out against his pale skin and fine silvery hair, but they seemed a little unfocused -- uncertain. He clutched a newspaper with his plaid sleeves.

In our building, we have one big elevator on the left, and a small one on the right. Between them is the call button. The man entered the lobby from the left, passing the large elevator, and pressed the button. He didn't turn to watch the elevator he had walked by, as if he only expected the other one to open. Instead, he turned his head towards the large panoramic window by the door, and commented, "It sure is windy out there." Behind him, I saw the large elevator open with a "ding!" and, after a few seconds, close. He didn't hear it: he was waiting for the other elevator, and watching the wind.

I felt like going up to him and giving him a big hug. I didn't, but that's what I wanted to do.

As I thought this over later, God spoke to me about my own approach to life. The sweet old man's situation seemed to be a reflection of my own:

I ask God for a blessing, but I've already decided in my mind what form I want that blessing to take. I'm so busy waiting for what I've determined is right for me, that I don't realize it when God opens bigger doors for me. That, or I'm too caught up in the winds and storms of the outside world that I forget to focus on what I can do in the safe arms of God.

I think there's a lot to be learned from the mundane little occurances around us. What have you learned today?

Love, Oksana

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Fragment

I woke up briefly at 5 this morning, probably from being so nervous over the first day of school that I couldn't sleep. Faintly, I could hear birds chirping and cawing, and, while I slipped out of bed, the sound grew in intensity as my consciousness awoke. I turned to my window, and, for a second, the sight arrested me.

The scene was cloacked with a rich, frosted blue. Each form was gauzy in the fog, outlined with black shadows and softly kissed by the fading starlight. A streetlamp cast a rusty, orange glow upon the road, its ruddy light fraying as it crept into the center of the asphalt. The air was filled with the sound of birds.

It lasted just a minute; then, the deep, dark blue began to lift, replaced by that misty, grey hour just before the dawn. The birds continued to call, each voice weaving its way through many other voices, echoing back endlessly from horizon to horizon. Wind tousled the pale and drowsy trees, and fell in wispy cobwebs to the damp road. And the streetlight still shone, like a beacon of silence on a planet determined to shake itself free from the night.

As I watched this unfold, words and thoughts just welled up in me... it was like entering a poem or tiptoeing through a fairlytale. I love this view.

In just a few days, the view is going to change. We're relocating to a different part of the city... or, rather, a different spot in this part of the city. So, to commemorate its beauty, I'll share with you some snapshots I'd taken from my bedroom window at various times over the last two years. Enjoy... :)


when the curtain falls




Eternity


thunder


existance


to the other side


hear me

Love, Oksana