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Hunting in the deep dark woods and further creative ventures


I'll let you finish, but first I'm going to talk about belts


If you go to my other blog, you will can see me decked out in Victorian/Edwardian inspired clothing. Above is the skirt from that ensemble. What I think is cool about it, is the weird (and extremely unnecessary) corset lacing on the inside of the zipper. I decided to wear the skirt as a dress (it comes to a nice knee length, with the skirt's pleats beginning just below the bust. It's almost as if it was meant to be that way...) with the corset lacing displayed. It probably looks a bit risque that way, though, so I don't think I'll wear it out like that. But still, it looks cool with one of the belts I bought today.



Today I bought two belts. The one in the top two photos is from Ardene's. The one in the bottom two photos is from Value Village. Both are really cool belts. Both of them cost me $6 or less. The only reason I bought the one from Ardene's is because I needed to buy new piercing jewellery for my snakebites, and Ardene's always does 2/$10, 3/$15, 5/$10, et cetera. Some clothing is 2/$40. It usually saves you between five and ten dollars. It's pretty much one of the cheapest places to get accessories, other than Salvation Army or thrift stores other than Value Village. Value Village is actually relatively expensive (and is often more expensive than a dollar store. FYI.). Still, I am pleased with my V.V. purchases today. Four things coming to just under $20. Not bad considering their belts are usually $10. Howe'er, the beautifully masculine and worn looking leather belt I bought was from the men's section, and it was $6! Not bad. I really like it because it's nice leather, with lots and lots of hardware. And it fits me on the hips. It's weird, because even though I'm quite petite, belts from thrift stores usually don't fit me. I've only ever gotten one belt from a thrift store that fit me, but that's because it was really adjustable. That belt is one that I still have, actually. Good belt. Any ways, I like both of the belts I got because they're pretty unique, and the fit my pants really well. They're kind of edgy and unique, and I can dig that. I might even consider tucking my shirt in so that people can see my fancy pant supporters. 

Any ways, I just wanted to share what cool things you can find. And yes, if you want new accessories that won't completely break your bank, I recommend Ardene's. It's a weird system, but their stuff is still cheaper than other shops that sell the same thing. Even without taking advantage of the however many for however many dollars deals. 

Let's look at my fashion style, shall we?

I'm going to be vain for a little bit, and share what I wore today. I don't know why, but I think it'd be fun to be a fashion blogger. The only thing is, my style is a bit unconventional, and similar enough to different styles but also different enough that I wouldn't be able to define myself. However, after learning about Karen Blanchard today, I'm less concerned. She is a fashion blogger, and I adore her style. It's edgy, full of animal print, vintage finds, and tribal looking jewellery. Cool stuff! And thus, I am influenced to share some of my personal fashion choices. I wore two outfits today. I dressed comfy casual for the morning and again this evening, and changed in the afternoon when I went out into the city.

The outfit to the left is one that I have more or less shared before. It is one of my favourite things to wear for when I'm kicking around the house. Usually I'm not barefoot, though, because I get too cold. Still, I prefer to be barefoot. The outfit consists of a vintage button down Denver Hayes red and green plaid shirt. It's a hand-me-down from my dad. It's cotton, soft, and really comfy. It's nice and long on me, and more or less fits me perfectly (as far as loose men's shirts go). Good thing my dad is quite thin! I only really wear skinny jeans, and conveniently enough, dark skinnies look great with loose shirts. 

To the right, we have what I chose to wear to run errands, meet a friend, and go thrift shopping. For some reason, I chose to wear a skirt. It was that or just wear my ruffle shorts, but I didn't feel like it. Recently, I discovered a style from Japan called 'Mori girl'. It is inspired by the idea of living in the forest. Very natural, loose, comfortable, all while being elegant and beautiful. I realized that Mori is pretty much a name for what I already was, but it has still managed to influence my pairings of clothing. The only difference is, there is still a great deal of steampunk, Victorian, punk, and whatever other styles mesh to form the style called 'Emmelia'. My outfit today was made up of... 
~Layered tights (blue and cool striped/patterned mesh tights that Santa gave me) 
~A tutu-like skirt bought at a consignment shop in Kensington (not my favourite skirt because it tends to ride up and gather static electricity, but I always wear ruffle shorts, so it's not a huge problem. Just a mild annoyance) 
~Purple tank top (purchased for $5 from Ardene's) 
~Victorian and corset inspired cream button up Suzy Shier halter top ($10 new with tags from Value Village. Bargain!)
~Grey cardigan ("borrowed" from my mother)
~Sandy brown "Rocky" style hoodie ($59-ish from men's department at Dick & Jane's)
~Short black cowl neck coat ($20 from Sirens)
~Shawl/Scarf/Wrap- my favourite new source of coziness and layering! (Christmas gift)
~Vintage combat boots (hand-me-downs from mother- they are the best boots on the planet, and I love them)
~Charm necklace (found chain with anchor and pentagram charms, symbolising stability, balance, guidance, and hope)
~Black thermal socks (Christmas gift)
~Embroidered Red Riding Hood green canvas bag (gift from sister), decorated with crystal and marble fox tails (purchased off of Etsy)

My... a lot of layers! Still, after all of that... my favourite clothing items of the day are...

Layered tights! Particularly when there are striped stockings involved. For anyone who has read The Knicker Misadventures, you will probably know that I like striped stockings. Paired with my black combat boots and a pair of thick thermal socks and I am happy!


Merry Christmas!

Well, Merry Christmas, or whatever holiday you may celebrate. Even if you don't celebrate anything at all! It's kind of getting to the point of not being Christmas Day any longer, but as Scrooge learned, the true meaning of Christmas is something that we should always keep in our hearts.

I just wanted to express that my Christmas was great, and I hope yours was too. I love my family, and they know me really well. The photo above are just a couple of the lovely things that my parents and siblings gave me, along with a rolling pin, socks, chocolate, and more. You may have noticed the titles of the books. I will take this time to mention that 'A Practical Guide to Racism' is a satirical book. Satirical to the point of having 'merpeople' as a race. The other two books are going to be fantastic references, and I can't wait to try some of the dress patterns, tips and hints. What I like about my family is the number of useful things that we give each other. That is why I have three spanking new pairs of thermal socks.

Oh, AND I blackened my combat boots, so they will be a bit more protected from water now. Not so much that they don't look worn and cool, but enough that the leather won't wear through. 

Wow. That probably means absolutely nothing to most people. Well, I have posted about my boots before. Maybe someone will recall that. 

Any who... I'm going to get into my brand new black and pink leopard print flannel pyjamas (EEE!! My parents know me so well! Err... I mean... Santa knows me. Ahem.) and curl up with one of my new books until I maybe fall asleep. I'm hoping that tonight is the night that I conquer this stupid insomnia thing. It's not really insomnia, but I can't sleep solid or fall asleep. It makes me really paranoid because of Fight Club. And with that... Good night!



Recently, the folk known as hipsters have given lumberjacks a bad name, in an attempt to dress like them. The plaid flannel shirt, the bushy beards, wool socks and boots. Still, lumberjacks should be honoured, especially on winters like today, where nothing is as nice as a roaring fire. After all, who cuts the wood? Lumberjacks. Even if you yourself cut the wood, it is the spirit of the lumberjack that makes it possible.

Why do I bring this up? Well, as I was building a fire, I found myself wearing blue jeans, an old flannel shirt, and a rocky hoodie. It struck me as lumberjack-ish. Kind of lumberjack chic.

Don't get me wrong, it's one of the most comfortable outfits I've been in for weeks, but it prompted me to think about lumberjacks. Lumberjacks like...

These men are legit. I'm not sure when this photo is from, but it's sometime in the 19th century. They are not the stereotypical lumberjacks. But really, isn't that dapper moustache something?

I'm going to stop writing. I have no idea where I was going with this.

Long story short, plaid is great, I love flannel, and lumberjacks have a romanticised swellness.



I just saw a picture that a friend posted to Facebook that took me by surprise.

The caption is as such:
According to the Newtown Patch, bikers descended on the town of Newtown yesterday and linked arms blocking the hate group protesters of Westboro Baptist Church from disrupting the funerals. 

"More than 100 riders from New York and Massachusetts, organized by the anti-Westboro group Patriot Guard Riders, were also in Connecticut on Wednesday to show their support, Patch reported. The lined the streets arm in arm."

“All these guys see us and think we’re bad. We’re not. It’s solidarity, is what it is,” New York native Jim Hannigan told Newtown Patch. “I just felt I had to be here.”
Source and Photo by Newton Patch.

This peaked my curiosity, and interest. Of course, I had to read into what Westboro Baptist Church was doing this time. Before I get into that, I will give some background for those of you unfamiliar with the circumstances and such being discussed. First of all, Westboro Baptist Church is a hyper-"religious" group who protests anything and everything, as long as there might be the smallest link to homosexuality. They really hate homosexuals, and everything that they could possibly stand for. This time, they are protesting the funerals in Newtown. Newtown being the location of the most recent, and one of the worst school shootings in United States history. In this shooting, 20 children were murdered, along with 6 teachers and adults. The entire event is tragic, to say the least, and few words can be spoken to express what a terrible thing it is, that something like this can happen in our world. The death of children is a true cause for mourning at the 'best' of times, but when so many young lives are taken in such a short time, and without any known cause... I can't even express in words. Now... why on earth would anyone want to protest the funerals of the victims?

Good question.

According to an article by Tim Stanley of The Telegraph, the WBC was picketing "to sing praise to God for the glory of his work in executing his judgement". Apparently God had 20 children killed in order to send a message about his disapproval for homosexuality and same-sex relations?

I don't think so. Not any God that I know. 

True, God was a bit vicious in the Old Testament. He did some crazy things, made insane requests, and prompted many biblical characters to make possibly questionable decisions. However, as we know, Jesus Christ was sent to earth to teach about love and understanding, and all around peace.

Today, the world was supposed to end. For the entire planet, it has yet to do so. The world may have ended for some, as they did yesterday, and the day before. The world ended for those children in Newtown. They were not killed to send a message about homosexuality being a sin. They were not killed by a malevolent God who is the God whom these WBC followers worship. They were killed in cold blood. In hatred. To this day, police are still trying to determine why.

The Westboro Baptist Church has been protesting some touchy subjects for a while. Generally, things that shouldn't be protested. It has gotten to the point that many groups have started to protest their protests. This includes the KKK (yes, the Ku Klux Klan. see Telegraph article), and as of the past couple of days, bikers forming non-violent protests to let the funerals continue in peace. As they should. In my opinion, when the KKK, known historically for being a symbol of extreme hatred, speaks against you... You should probably reconsider what you're doing.

When I heard that the WBC was being protested by bikers from several states, I was happy to at least hear that, but the concept that people would be filled with enough rage towards homosexuality to protest funerals, and even worse, voice their opinions that the death of children was an act of God to speak against homosexuality, it filled me with such sadness and anger. Although I do not label myself in relation to my religious or spiritual belief, my beliefs are strongly influenced by Catholicism because it is how I was raised. I grew up with the message that the golden rule of Christianity is to love others. This was not a rule with exceptions. This was a solid rule. Regardless of shape, colour, creed, so on or whatever makes a person different from you, you are supposed to love them. Love is what saves people. Not romantic love, obviously. Simply love for humankind, and a love that sprouts caring and compassion.

What WBC is doing is hatred. Hatred is the root of evil. Hatred kills, damages, inflicts pain, destroys, and hurts. It does not solve problems. It grows and spreads, hurting more and more people, instead of helping or saving others. How can someone say that they are spreading the word of God, and instead spread such pain and anger to the world around them? That is not what the Bible, or any Holy book, teaches. It fills me with such sadness that individuals can be so full of hatred towards something that doesn't even hurt them. I have several close friends who are gay and bisexual, and they are some of the most wonderful people I know. They are genuine and true, and willing to share so much with the world. Really, when they have so much to offer, what does their sexual orientation have to do with anything? To protest these people is ignorant and outdated. Furthermore, a loving and benevolent God would not encourage the death of children with a vast future ahead of them. Especially when the protest is against people who are as good hearted as anyone else. Good hearted people like those who know that the death of a child is a tragedy, and that the funerals of massacre victims should not be stopped. 

(Side note, the [irrational] prevention of funerals is something that also causes me a lot of pain. It hurts me as much as the desecration of human bodies. Not to the same extreme, but it shows just as little respect for the person who has died.)

As Christmas draws closer, please love others. I'd like to hope that those who read this blog would never be so extreme as to cause such pain to others as the Westboro Baptist Church, but nonetheless... Any extra ounce of love you have can do a world of good. Hatred does nothing. Love can save the world.

Memorial Ring

My grandmother gives me a great many beautiful things. Curious treasures, bits of lace, items of clothing, and so many wonderful things. One of the most recent things, which was supposed to be wrapped to go under the Christmas tree, but a little bird has said that there a great many packages for yours truly, so my mother presented these little gifts to me as an early Christmas present. Boy, am I a lucky girl to have such fantastic relatives who gift such beautiful things to me. I digress. This most recent of things is a ring. A memorial ring. I'm going to have to do a lot of research, and a great deal of digging. It is a small band, with woven hair inset into the gold, and a couple of engravings. On the outside is 'Minne', which is a German word for remembrance, or something similar. Inside is the name Carl, and '1830/8.5.5' or something. Curiouser and curiouser. There are many rings that are similar, but I'm so excited to have something like this. My grandmother doesn't know of any Carl, so this just sends my mind reeling. There are whispers of my great-grandmother's fiance, and various tales that might lead to the history of this ring. Until then... I absolutely adore this ring. I have such a love for secret histories. Items and possessions seem to absorb history and meaning and stories... and I just want to hold on to them and soak up the entire past.


Standards of Ghost Photography

First of all, I'd like to formally apologize for not posting anything for about two weeks. My bad. I just didn't have anything good to post about, and everything usually ends up going on my other blog. Though I think I might be inadvertently cheating. Moving on.

Have you ever noticed how the standards of what defines ghost photography has gone down exponentially since the invention of photography. Back in the day of tintype and early early photography, it would be captured through double exposures. With 35 mm film, it would be streaks and weird faces in the film. Now we have digital, and we have orbs (see above). 

Orbs are not very exciting in comparison to other ghost photography. For those of you unfamiliar, here are some riveting and spoooooooky examples.

Fairly famous ghost photograph. Person is backseat was not there when photo was taken.

Various examples of 19th century spirit photography
Weird "ghost". Ectoplasm? 
The infamous "orb" phenomena
Let the record be shown that I am a sceptic. I have many reasons to believe in ghosts (including some experiences that hardcore ghost believers would be adamant in describing as a ghostly encounter), but I refuse to. I believe that there is always a logical explanation. This belief is mostly because of the ouija board, and my almost periodical playing of the ouija board when I was younger. To that, many people might react with accusations of Satanic worship and all kinds of hoo-ha, but ouija is a game, and works with nerve impulses. If it doesn't, well. I do think that you shouldn't mess around with seances, though. Even if it's not real, it's probably not something that you should tamper in. That just seems like a bad idea.

I digress. Orbs. And ghost photography. Personally, I think that all aspects of the paranormal are incredibly interesting. I have this thing with ghosts, and what it means to be a ghost or to be haunted. I don't believe in ghosts as things that move things around and make noises, but more as a symbol. Still, it is because of my ever-present interest in occult and paranormal things that I find ghost photography fascinating. There are usually good reasons for why the images appear on the film. It can be doctoring, a weird trick of the light, dust on the lens, and so many other minor flaws that create something on the film. However, it's usually not a ghost. I will not tell people what to believe, as that is not what I stand for. All individuals and parties are welcome to their own creeds and beliefs (as long as those beliefs do not bring harm to others, I'd hope and prefer). However, that also means that I am. That includes being quite adamant in my belief that ghosts aren't real. I'm open to anything, but I'm pretty sure that the orbs that my camera caught are reflections off of the snow. That, or I'm wrong, and Charles Dickens' infamous image of the wandering spirits, condemned to walk the earth, bound in chains, forever, is correct. 

Whatever the case, and however strong my scepticism in everything, I will always be open to new ideas, and continue to playfully think about the interesting concept of ghosts haunting this world.


Positive Reinforcement

Okay. Okay.

Is there a bigger boost than one of your favourite musicians liking your art? Probably not. The only greater form of positive reinforcement would be one of my favourite painters like Gericault coming back from the dead and telling me that he liked the way I drew the two men from Raft of the Medusa (which would lead to an in-depth conversation about The Dead Weather), or meeting any one of the sideshow wonders who have inspired me.

Maybe it just doesn't take much to boost my self esteem in my art. Though, it didn't take much with that foxhole drawing to boost my opinions of it. I was already pretty pleased with it. But hey! The person whose lyrics inspired it likes it too. That's swell. Real swell.

Octinimous and other wonders

Last night, I saw one of my favourite musicians live at The Gateway bar in Calgary. One of the best concerts I've ever been to? Yes. Definitely. As far as musicians go, few have inspired me more than this guy. His genre is slotted into 'hip hop', but he's pretty much all genres, and when playing live he's totally punk rock. The audience was kind of lame because they were all of these hipsters standing around, but Astronautalis was rocking out, and I was one of the rockers jumping around and head banging. At one point he got down into the audience and got everyone to start moshing and seriously dancing and rocking out and it was one of the greatest moments of my life. Especially as far as concerts go. The concert was just brilliant, and the stage presence was incredible. After the concert he was at his merch table, signing stuff and shaking hands and talking to people. It's really appreciated when musicians do that. I mean, when they really understand that their fans are the reason they're there, and that it means a lot to people to get to talk to them. 

Now, to continue with what I'm talking about, I need to direct you to the blue tattoos on his right arm (see in the photo above). Near his elbow, there is a single word tattoo (which in the photo looks vaguely like a squiggly line). Since I'm really interesting in tattoo culture and what the meaning behind tattoos are, I asked him about it. From this, I received a lesson in Latin and in history. The tattoo says 'octinimous', which roughly means eight times a name, or a name that is eight times a name. It is best explained in the poem that he got it from.

Let me be exalted
Who causes all things to bud and blossom
it is our root
it is one and seven
it is octinimous
the eight-fold-name
Keep Trust- Keep Faith

O Quam misericors est Deus
Carpe Noctum

Essentially, this was a poem that was hammered to the coffin of the 4th Earl of Bothwell (James Hepburn). A Scot living in Denmark, or something similar. From what I've managed to read, he seems like an interesting fellow. So... yes. I learned a bit of Latin and history from someone I deem one of the coolest people on the planet. I asked him to write down the word on the bandanna that I had bought, and he did, as well as signed it. He was signing stuff for everyone, but I can smile at the fact that he agreed to write down a cool word. In return I offered the 16th century word 'jobbernowl'.

Also, remember the drawing I did that was inspired by his song The Wondersmith and His Sons? The ink and gouache one? Well, I mentioned that I did it, and he told me to send it to him on Facebook. Cool! No idea if anything will come out of that, but... we shall see. Maybe since I talked to him twice he'll remember me more or something. Though overall he seems like a personable person who would have good conversations with anyone. It would be neat to actually have a lengthy conversation with him, since he seems to know a lot about history and all kinds of cool things. I can dig it.


How to feel dignified and content

As some will know, I've been considering my age and whether or not I'm really 'grown up' or growing up. I know that I am, but it's mostly a weird complex in which I'm not sure that I'm growing up the way I want to. However, occasionally I notice small choices that I make and how they make me feel and view the world. I notice this most with the things that I surround myself with.

1. My travel suitcase- I bought it on sale, because I don't have an actual travel bag, and this one is tapestry with botany and insects and as far as objects go, I kind of fell in love with it. It's the perfect travel size, just big enough to fit a week's worth of clothing, necessities and books, and whatever else I could possibly need. For some reason, buying it gave me hope. It reminds me of all the opportunities and the places I'll go. Recently I've been toying with the idea of moving elsewhere for summers, but at the moment, the only place I can think of is New York. It's been possessing my mind. Swirls of Coney Island, arts museums, strange plays and performance art, books and literature... Everything haunts me and clings to my mind, stating with absolute certainty that it would be a good idea. However, New York is expensive, so I'm currently just aiming for a ten day trip, so that I can feel it out and see if I like it. I think that reading Catcher In The Rye is further embedding New York City into my mind. This bag fills me with hope whenever I look at it. It's kind of like how I'm filled with wonder and adoration when I look at things that my Grandmother has given me, or the awe I get when I see old photographs of my parents. I guess I'm really fortunate to have the parents and family that I do. Both my mother and father have led extraordinary lives, and a lot of it happened when they were the age I am now. I should remind myself of that. Really, my life is interesting and I am happy with the direction it's going. Maybe I just don't look at it from an outsider's perspective often enough.

Any ways, I digress. This suitcase makes me feel grown up, but in a good way. It makes me feel like I could be on a train station platform, waiting for a train to some mysterious and beautiful place. That is a good feeling.

2. Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger- I had never read any of J.D. Salinger's writing until my cousin in the U.K. gave me two of his books. Franny and Zooey and another which I cannot remember the title of. I absolutely adored Franny and Zooey. For whatever reason, I connected with it a great deal, and I finished it in less than two days (though, it is a thin book, so maybe that's not as impressive). I've been craving to have that sense of connection to a novel again. This prompted me to buy Catcher In The Rye. I find that, even though it is more expensive, I prefer to buy books. I like buying a cheap paperback and being able to keep it in my pocket, but not have to worry about the state in which it would be returned. I do like owning massive hard cover books, but those are more for references. Paperbacks are the novels that I read on the bus, that tend to make me laugh and cry and settle into deep thought. They are the books that I can have in my messenger bag, and I pull them out on the bus. A scrap of paper acts as a bookmark, and even though I have the best intentions of reading, I tend to read and sentence, and that single sentence sends my mind reeling into thought. I just sit on the bus with my nose in the book, the pages against my cheek, staring outside of the dirty window into memories and emotions that are not visible. The paperback novels are often cheap versions of books that I read in high school, and fell in love with. Give me characters like Scout and Winston Smith. I've realized that I don't particularly like fantasy novels or things that are so beyond my world. I would much rather sink into a story so real that I feel like I could have met the characters, or even passed them on the street. The books they assign you in high school really are quite good. People just don't think that they are because they were forced to read them, under the watchful eye of a teacher they didn't particularly like.

Reading Catcher In The Rye has taken me back to how I feel when I read a book. I mean, being so immersed in a book and so connected with every word on every page that I just melt into that world. It's wonderful. It's also nice to have a book that I can read on the bus. It takes me back to being on the underground trains in London, and reading the books that my cousin suggested and pushed into my hands. Incidentally, the books that I read on the bus and train are often my favourites. There's just something nice about reading a book on transit, when the characters do the same every now and then.

3. Fisheye Lens Camera- I believe I've mentioned this before. My beautiful red camera, with its fisheye lens and 35 mm film. I do really like carrying it around, and taking photographs. It reminds me of patience and secrets. And... I quite like that.

All of these things make me feel like how I want to feel all the time. Oddly dignified, colourful, interesting, and strangely like Anne from Anne Of Green Gables. I think it's the bag. I always liked her and her carpet bag that had to be carried a particular way. I could always sympathize with Anne. Mostly because of the particular way of spelling our names.