Great Expectations

Tim Robbins, having one.

Great moments. When hard work and discipline combine to make success. Its an elixir we all crave, and its often rewarded. The Oscar's are not even finished yet and I can already hear the nattering of keyboards plugging Blogger and the like with Oscar posts. Well here is mine.

Sure, I watched the Oscar's too and one thing that struck me was how paradoxical my mood was to the way each of those lucky bastards must have felt as they leisurely strolled to the microphone to accept their statuette's. I had an important meeting today. It was not a great moment.

I should have known when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the beer cooler across the bar from me, while I was having breakfast at the MET that it would not be a good day. Taking part in the InFest activities since Wednesday had obviously taken its toll. I was looking pretty rough. Whether the festival celebrating artist run culture wanted me or not, I had many hours to kill this weekend and InFest kept me busy. I often found myself alone in crowded places, eating meals, or drinking in the bar, waiting for something to do, or happen. A few things did.

Friday. I finally ventured into the Western Front, one of the first art centers of its kind in the country. Its a huge old house with large open spaces for performance of any kind. Music, art, theatre, lectures, its mandate is keen, and so are its patrons and participants. This enthusiasm obviously had no effect on me as I sat contently eyeing a crowd of about 60 mingling about, while I drank 3$ Heineken's on the sidewall bleachers. I did manage to get out of my seat, venturing downstairs to meet some friends, and then rounding up a small party to go to some other galleries. We ended the night at a party in Gastown. The art was mediocre, and the beer too sweet, but the music was excellent. We didn't stay too long however, and I found the train ride home depressing as hell, leaving the city and all its treasures behind.

Saturday. I was back at ECIAD. Where I had graduated from in 2001, vowing foolishly to never return. Well I was back. Yup. Still hate the place. I was there because of a round table discussion on alternative economies. One of the panelists was Caterina Fake, who I have seen on more blogrolls than this lowly little site could ever manage to dream about. So I thought I would introduce myself. And I did, sort of. In an email after I got home. You see I want people to read this blog, but I don't want people to know who is writing it. So I decided to stay in the crowd, among the many.

Later that night InFest wrapped up at another warehouse party in East Van, I latched on to a few people so I wouldn't look too out of place and in the process met some nice folks from Halifax, Victoria, Toronto, and Cardiff. But I didn't last long, after 3 nights of this routine I was looking forward to a Big Mac and a bed. The pressure of Sunday had already started to weigh in on my mind.

It must have been somewhere around that time, the train ride home, or lounging in my bed, looking out at the little city beneath me, that I came to a decision. With discipline, I would follow my minds orders. Everyone, myself included, would benefit. It would take strength, conviction, most importantly, hard work. I knew it though, shortly after my restless sleep which I finally put to an end by getting up at 7am, I was headed for trouble. Anyway, I have already put the day's mistakes behind me, but I worry. My appetite for things that are bad for me and generally do me harm seems insatiable. Its the kind of thing that will, and has been, keeping me from many of those life defining moments. While the weekend was fun it could have been so much better, maybe nothing requiring an acceptance speech, but exceptional all the same.