the christmas song song

a holiday classic from MERCH TABLE DELITE?

So I was thinking today about how my head is full of characters. Beautiful, wonderful, exciting characters. But none of them have stories. How do I write the stories? Where are they? I sit and I write, I sit and I write, and all that comes out is pages upon pages of character description. I can't make these people do anything!!!

poem about no one

we ♥ it

she is a lotus
blooming in my throat
stretching and wrapping her roots
around my chakras
she is chamomile on my tongue
strawberry on my lips
this girl is the earth
pulling my feet down
and the sun light
that sinks into me
like teeth in the morning

anna melcon bond


"Some people hear the rule 'Write every day' and do it and don't improve. They are just being dutiful. That is the way of the Goody Two-shoes. It is a waste of energy because it takes tremendous effort to just follow the rules if your heart isn't into it. If you find that this is your basic attitude, then stop writing. Stay away from it for a week or year. Wait until you are hungry to say something, until there is an aching in you to speak. Then come back."

~Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones

~Submerged~

"Be in love
with your life."

~Jack Kerouac

I guess the phoenix was right...

I GOT A JOB!

I got the call at 8:30 this morning that Trinity University wants me on their HR staff. I can't tell you how much of a relief this is.

Thank you for all your prayers and wishes and positive vibes :)

Phoenix Rising

I dreamed of a phoenix rising -
red and yellow feathers like fire in the sky.
The sun made a halo around her head.

She went to a pool of water to drink.
A coyote sat in front of her -
angry and showing teeth.

She opened her great beak
and swallowed him.
I watched her fly away.

According to this website and several others, to dream of a phoenix is a good sign.

"In Greek mythology, the Phoenix was a bird with great beauty, splendor and longevity. The legend tells us that the Phoenix lived for five hundred years and then retreated to make a nest where she would die. She made a nest of aromatic twigs that would burn from the heat of its own body. The Phoenix is said to rise from its own ashes. It comes alive though the transforming power of fire and it lives again in full splendor. In the Middle Ages, the Phoenix was often used as a symbol for Christ, as he resurrected. This legendary bird is an archetypal dream symbol that brings us positive and powerful images of rebirth. If you dream of the Phoenix, it is most likely that you are receiving message from the unconscious that are telling you that new life and new beginnings are always possible. This bird is a reminder that we have internal powers of regeneration and that we have the power to change things for the better. As you are interpreting this dream, try to visualize a great bird rising up from fire and ash. It is a powerful image, whether produced by a dream or visualization."

Maybe she represents my journey. Maybe I will rise from the ashes. Maybe the coyote is another side of me. The side that is weak, lacking in ambition, deceptive, fearful. The phoenix swallows the coyote and flies away. The stronger part of myself rises above the weakness.

I hope this is true. I've just had a bit of bad news concerning a job I really wanted and worked hard to get. I didn't get it. I feel like I am on the verge of a mental breakdown. I hope I do see the phoenix rise.


Photo by: EHE1985

Things I Have Thought

~We are all connected in that we are all on different paths. I think that's extraordinary!

~Tonight I realized how full of abundance my life really is. I am surrounded by people who love me and support me, by people who bake me cupcakes and offer their home to me. I have friends to laugh with and family who help me out in times of need. I have a boyfriend who brings me presents because he loves me and thinks about me when we're apart. All of this is worth so much more than lots of money or a job. If I had those things and none of the people in my life, I feel I would be quite miserable.

~Photo from here

photogs from a day of shooting 'bench'

check out this image gallery here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/18245191@N00/

this is from the first of two days working on a web series called 'bench' with my pal victor (you know him as "chuck buck" in the harv stevens film) as well as adrian neblett (who is a great actor/stand up) and my old pal krystle snow. 

if you care to watch the episodes, check em out here. they're pretty funny.

video madness pour vous

weight of the circles by enjoy your pumas from NIcholas Friesen on Vimeo.

teaser - cbc radio 3 documentary from NIcholas Friesen on Vimeo.

Happy birthday, Ezra.

Life Magic

"Whatever you focus on will become your reality."
~Laura Bushnell

I'm reading a book by Laura Bushnell called Life Magic, and through it I'm learning a lot about manifestation and focusing my thoughts and changing my attitude. It seems to be working. Yesterday was a testament to the magic life provides if you focus your words and thoughts on positive things and things you want.

Small "coincidences" I noticed yesterday and today:

1) I was in the car listening to the radio and really wanted to hear a certain song that's not played often. I just kept saying in my mind that I wanted that song to be the next song played, and guess what? It was the next song played!

2) My boyfriend and I were having a discussion about getting things organized and how he wanted to create a space specifically for his and his roommate's motorcycle gear, so that it wouldn't be strewn across the floor. We left the apartment for a little while and when we came back his roommate had put hooks in the wall for their jackets and helmets.

3) Another radio incident. There was a second song I wanted to be played and just for extra oomph I decided it should be played on a radio station I hardly listen to. That way I knew I wasn't aware of their rotations. In fact, I wasn't even sure if the band was in their rotation. I turned to that station and guess what? THAT SONG WAS PLAYING!

4) Today, while looking for jobs online, I wished that I could work in the library. No library positions have been open since I started job hunting in May. I decided it was worth a glance today and what do you know? A library position had been posted and today was the last day to apply.

Positive vibrations? Manifestation? Coincidence? A change in attitude and outlook? It doesn't matter. It makes me smile. :)

More life magic to come...

Photo credit: Missleto

A little bit of stream of conciousness

This morning I'm waking up to rain and cloudy skies, but I'm not allowing myself to harbor negative thoughts. Not about the weather, not about jobs, not about love, not about anything. Because I've come to realize that what we focus on is what manifests. If I am constantly thinking about what negative things could happen, chances are I'm going to be pretty miserable, even if things aren't that bad. It's because I'm looking for the negative. I'm anticipating all the bad that could happen and forgetting about the good. No wonder it seems like nothing ever unfolds for me. When I was younger I felt like good things just fell in my lap. Everything went my way. My dreams were so easy to reach. Probably because I never doubted myself. I never doubted that good things could actually happen to me. I just assumed they would. I had more faith and trust in myself and the world around me. I don't know when things changed. Maybe it was when I first became depressed and I used the "only anticipate bad things and you won't be disappointed when the good things don't happen" coping mechanism. That old way of thinking still sneaks up on me. Sometimes I don't even realize it until I'm crying about situations that haven't even happened! That's no way to live. So today I vow to unleash negative thinking. I choose to meditate on good things. I choose to imagine all the wonderful things that could happen. It's going to be a really hard thing for me to do, but I'm tired of only perceiving misery. I don't want to disconnect or create drama or feel like a little black cloud. Even if it is cloudy today. I don't have to be.

david auditions for muchmusic vj search 2006

probably the greatest ever audition for the muchmusic vj search. david did not tell us what he was going to say or do beforehand. ENJOY!!!

"Wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving."

~ Kahlil Gibran

YOUTUBE ME

i've recently become addicted to uploading old films i made while at u of w onto youtube.

search nickyjfriesen and find me (or just click that link). watch in hi-res. 

stuff that is up:

the trailer for the cbc radio 3/canadian touring doc that i am editing

random musings of a girl named daphna (about six of the 15 chapters thus far)

snowball's chance starring caley gibson

splitzville starring me

diary of a san fernando sex addict starring sex addicts

and so many more ... please check them out and rate them highly if you have the means. i highly recommend. they are so choice.

FUN FACT: erik berg, who plays 'mars' in the sixth chapter of 'daphna' went on to star in the haunting in connecticut. he has an INSANE internet following of teenage girls. it is hilarious. i think he probably hates it.

what we did this summer

so. haven't updated all summer. was a little busy with nothing.

i started managing this band. they are called enjoy your pumas. they are your new favourite band. check out these shots. a lot of these are my favourites that i've ever done.

what i did all summer part two

patrick watson

louden wainwright

steven page

elvis costello

gentleman reg

neko case at folk fest

photo shoot with jen for UR magazine

enjoy your pumas recorded four songs with ryan

jen and nick went to chicago

ian and laura got married!

le beato (shot for uptown cover in august)

erick and mel from the park (september 3 uptown cover)

me on september second outside my apartment

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."
~Roald Dahl

Personal Update

I realize I have not written much personal stuff lately. All of those thoughts are written in my journal. I've written more since May than I did all last year! It's amazing what a shift in life will do to a person. I'm glad the thoughts have been recorded somewhere because it's been a roller coaster ride. I thought it'd be nice to capture some of what I've been up to on Ophelia Blooming. Just in case anyone is curious :)

At the end of May I moved to San Antonio to live with a family friend and look for jobs. San Angelo, my home town, is a small town with little job opportunities, so I jumped at the chance to move to a bigger city where I felt like luck might be on my side.

Wrong!

It's almost September and I still don't have a steady job. I have one temp job I work 2 or 3 times a month and just started another temp assignment yesterday. I'm thankful for these opportunities because they provide a little extra cash, but I have definitely seen my bank account dwindle. It's the scariest thing in the world. I've been on countless interviews (more than 10), but with every promising interview comes another door in the face. At one point, I even had a chance at a dream job - A&E feature writer for the Temple Daily Telegram. I went to the interview and the editor seemed impressed with my skills. She showed me around the newsroom, introduced me to everyone, and it seemed like I had the job in the bag. Just one problem. When the salary issue came up they were not willing to pay me enough to live on my own. I explained I was single and had to support myself and relocate, but it didn't matter. I drove back to San Antonio sad, but also a little relieved. Temple, TX is not the most impressive place to live.

A gazillion interviews later, I'm really starting to feel the frustration of the whole situation. Up until now I've remained relatively calm and optimistic, but last week I cried and cried and cried and felt like I had reached the point of insanity. On Friday I planned to stay in bed, but luckily, my dear friend in Austin invited me to stay the weekend with her and I had a blast. It was a breath of fresh air.

I feel better this week. I went on an interview Monday, worked my temp assignment yesterday, go on a third round interview tomorrow, and also get to work my temp assignment again the rest of the week. It gives me some sense of security, but I know that I'm not guaranteed anything. It's especially heart breaking when you go on three rounds of interviews, do everything perfectly, and still get the door shut in your face.

Aside from job hunting, I have been living my life as normal - but without the luxuries I could afford when I had a job. These include things like: salon visits, shopping sprees, eating out, ballet classes (keep fit at home with yoga and NYCB workout videos), books (learned to use the library), etc. What I've learned from this is that possessions don't own my joy. Yes, I'd L-O-V-E to get my hair done, but I can be content and happy with how it is, knowing that someday I'll be able to afford it again.

What I'm mucho thankful for: family, friends, support, love, and the simple things in life.

Ode on a Grecian Urn

I am reminded of this poem as I dream of things that have not yet come to be. Is it better to keep these things as dreams? According to John Keats, yes!

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thou express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunt about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal - yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Transitions

I read a declaration from the book Transitions - Prayers and Declarations for a Changing Life by Julia Cameron each day to help ease the rough patches in my life. I especially loved today's.

All my life I believed I knew something. But then one strange day came when I realized that I knew nothing. Yes, I knew nothing.
~Ezra Pound

Trauma can shake our certainty. The shattered faith of trust by a friend, the betrayal by a fickle lover, the cataclysmic loss of a long-standing job, the death of a young person--these and like events may skid us into despair. This is the rocky terrain of the heart, the moonscape of broken dreams. Every life contains times of spiritual bankruptcy, seasons of drought and doubt. Faced by a world made foreign of known markers, I set my own compass toward self-care. With prudence and wisdom, I schedule sleep, food, creation and recreation. Tending myself as I would an ailing friend, I gently rehabilitate my wounded heart.

Today, I am a loving nurse to my ailing spirit. Today, I salve my difficulties with personal compassion. I act toward myself with concrete loving kindness. I set firm but loving limits on my expenditures of energy.

Wishes and Star Prayers

"Wish on everything. Pink cars are good, especially old ones. And stars of course, first stars and shooting stars. Planes will do if they are the first light in the sky and look like stars. Wish in tunnels, holding your breath and lifting your feet off the ground. Birthday candles. Baby teeth."





"Here you go on this long long dream. Don't even try to wake up. Just let it go on until it is over. You will learn many things. Just relax and observe because there is pain and that's it mostly and you aren't going to be able to escape no matter what. Eventually it will all be over anyway. Good luck."

~ Quotes by Francesca Lia Block
~Wish photo by Beth Retro

*Star Prayer* (a lil poem by me)

Oh, stars
shouting from the sky-
your constellations become dreams
of spoons and bears and fiery lions.
Let them be secrets
you whisper only to me.
Let the moon gather my wishes
and disperse them among you,
and when you die, let your
light rest in the palm of my hand,
that I may find my way
in darkness.

It's Confirmed

I'm now 100% sure.

13 ways to know you're a changeling ~ by Francesca Lia Block

1. you have never felt as if you quite belonged
2. when you love someone it is like immolation or drowning
3. you yearn for the earth, even fantasize about eating it in handfuls
4. your skin does not seem like your own
5. metal frightens you
6. light on shallow water causes you to gasp
7. as do the carcasses of sea lions prepared by taxidermists for the coldly lit cases of dark museums
8. touch is one of the only ways you know to get back to yourself
9. but with the wrong human it can take you farther away until you almost cease to exist
10. you have repeated dreams of flying even though it takes tremendous effort and feels more like running a race
11. you have abandonment issues without necessarily any obvious cause
12. you are always secretly seeking ways to hurt yourself, as if this might prove to whoever is in charge that your tasks are done
13. hopefully, when you are young you discover something called love, which is really just another name for going home

The Great Tragedy

Why is writing an ordeal? When did it become a chore? Why do I turn it into something complex? When I was younger I couldn't wait to get to the page. I spent hours in school writing stories in Lisa Frank notebooks. I just sat down and wrote and the stories came to me. The process made me happy. Now it's like pulling teeth. Now I hold my head in my hands like I've just experienced a tragedy. I guess when you try too hard at anything it becomes complex. Why can't I stop trying and just DO???


Photo by Adam Lyon

Sweet Dream

I had a dream about the sky. It was a perfect night sky with a full moon and flashes of orange light in the shape of clouds. The reason was unknown. And there were millions of shooting stars darting across the sky and all the constellations were drawn out and illuminated in neon greens and pinks. Wouldn't it be fascinating to see something like that?

girls + glasses = ♥

I don't wear "real" glasses, but I love the plastic readers as an accessory.



















Source: We heart it

Writing is sexy, rock 'n roll magic,
cherry-red lipstick in the backseat.
It is fast cars, midnight downtown.

Writing is also quiet summer Sundays,
wispy white clouds and sea breezes.
Words form rainbows in the water.

Writing moves through your veins,
through your body-
sex, drugs, meditation-
whatever you want it to be,
it will be.
Writing will move you.

Rules To Live By

* Eat more cake.

* Wear 5 inch heels.

* Dream. Believe. Wish on everything.

* Own at least 1 pair of wings.

* Dance - especially with your friends. Even if you don't think you can dance.

* Live in the moment. See today as a pop-up book.

* Be thankful for what has been, what is, and what is to come.

* Read lots and lots of books.

* Bloom where you are planted.

* Let yourself write. It doesn't have to be perfect.

* Think good thoughts.

* Be inspired.

* Surround yourself with things and people you love.

* Listen to bad pop music every once in awhile.

* Pray and listen.

* Get plenty of sunshine. Don't forget the sunblock.

* Go outside your comfort zone.

* Exercise.

* Have faith.

* Lend a helping hand.

* Use your talents.

* Remember that happiness comes and goes, but joy is from the heart.

* Don't be afraid to ask for help.


Feel free to contribute to the list. What are your rules to live by?

Love Letter to My Nightmare

An older story...



I dreamt of falling and twisted, black clouds. I dreamt of night and standing at the edge of a pool of blue-black water. A pool of banshees. They were gray-smoke ghosts with bony faces and wet-straw hair. They surrounded you. You were in the middle of the pool, not treading water, not drowning, just standing upright and looking at me. The banshees looked at me, too. You held out your hand and said, “Come into the water. I won’t let them hurt you. I’ll save you from this.” I have loved you for so long. I could not see the banshees anymore, so I slipped into the water to be with you. And then, I dreamt of being pulled down, down into liquid darkness. I could see your face, blurry with water. You only looked at me as I raised my hand to you. You only looked at me as the banshees took me deeper. Why didn’t you save me?

These are my nightmares to you. I am not able to tell you what really lives inside my heart. I can only write how it feels to live underneath your shadows. Shadows blocking the light. Shadows that I love. I wish I could hate you and your menagerie of demons. I try to let you go, but you’re always there, beckoning me to stay, telling me your heart hurts without mine. But I believe your heart is numb. Has it ever been bruised? Has it ever bled for another? I wanted so much to be the one you bled for. I wanted to be the one who could bring tears to your eyes, but all of this only happened to me. I bled. I cried. I watched the sun color the sky pink at sunset with you. I watched the stars as they spun around us at midnight. I did so many things with you and pretended that it would last forever. “It will,” you said. “I love you.” I love you too, and the world collapsed.

I dreamt of stars -
The one named after me -
The one you gave me.
It falls and fades into the black canopy.
Everything is so fragile
And my veins bleed onto my skin.



There’s this feeling I get when I’m around you. On the surface it looks like love or lust or some kind of emotion that would lead me to wrap my arms around your neck and smile, like I owned the world. But in all honesty, within the deeper parts of my bruised heart, I hate you. I always have. You say I’m everything to you. You say I’m beautiful, but it will never be enough because your words are empty.

Look, here I am - Juliet, the girl who wants to find her Romeo. I hold onto you like you are him. Like you have come to save me and love me with everything inside your spirit. You put me on a balcony. Made me feel like I was the sun you were spinning around. You climbed my balcony and said the sweetest things and the stars sang. I had found my Romeo. But like all great tragedies, people must die. But Juliet is the only one who dies in mine because Romeo was never Romeo at all. He was only the poison that killed her.

When I was a little girl I saw a boy with wings. He was a performer at a party. He was ivory colored, his hair much darker than his skin, and his eyes were aqua blue. He wore black angel wings that glittered purple when the light hit them just right. He would dance among the others - the women dressed in silk roses, tiaras, long black eyelashes, and the boys wearing black, silk capes. Everyone danced and did magic. Some nights I would follow him outside. All the stars seemed to fall around him as he caressed the wings. He never took them off.

I believed in magic then, but I have forgotten now - how to see the magic in life. I used to see it in everything, even the ugly and tragic, but now I only see your heart devouring mine. You are the wild beast in my nightmares. You are the darkness hiding in the light. You are the muse drinking all my tears and then spitting them back at me. You are the fingers plucking off my wings. Why can’t I let go of you? It’s as if I enjoy grasping onto pain. How do I let go of these things? Let go of the banshees. Let go of the banshees. They do not love you and you cannot change them.

If your heart could feel, let it feel this. Let it feel meaningless words and glass shattered hearts and tears that burn. Let it feel the pain of loving someone and not being able to touch them. Let it feel the frantic spirit aching, aching for a love it cannot obtain. Let it feel.

I dreamt we were running through a never ending garden of rose bushes. You ran from me. I could hear you laughing. I smiled and laughed and let my hands sweep across the roses as I ran for you. You stopped and turned towards me. You said, “Open your hands to me.” I did, and only then did I see the thorns cutting into my skin - my bleeding hands held out to you, aching and wanting your touch. My heart was open to you, too. It had been bleeding all along.

Don’t let me remember your hard skin and tattoos. Don’t let me remember your words in the middle of the night as your body rose beneath mine. Don’t let me remember because those thoughts are waves crashing on my open heart – the salty sea cutting deeper, stinging the wounds.

You always say, “I have done so much for you. How can you hate me? I’m the best you’ve ever had.” And you want to be my friend. And you won’t let me let go because you need me. You need me now, but not later. Why won’t your heart break? How can you love me and not break? Why must I chase after you and pick up the pieces of my own heart after you’ve stepped all over them?

I know you don’t love me half as much as I love you. You say, “You don’t know how I feel,” but I do because you tell me in my sleep.

I dreamt of bleeding wrists. I tried to drink the blood back into my heart, but it tasted like your skin. Not filling, not healing, but I continued to drink because it tasted like you.

I dreamt of a place made of light. I was happy there. You came to live there, too and I saw you and my innermost being blossomed, but then it began to rain and the light faded. It wouldn’t stop raining, but I kept telling myself that it would and that as long as you were there nothing would cause me pain. The light was gray, but I held onto hope because I knew happiness would return. When the rain stopped we would be happy. We would live forever in the light. The rain never stopped.



You are gone now, but it doesn’t mean that I’ve let you go. I’m so afraid of this silence and this infinite black space that surrounds me now. It breaks over my skin and stings the soft spots – the parts of me you bruised. It hurts to dream of this silence.

I closed my eyes and dreamt of the black. It wrapped around me like black wings. The wings I had seen so long ago were here again, brushing against my face, cradling the healing heart. This was not a nightmare and you were finally dead inside your artificial light, but were you really? Had I really let go of you?

For I never woke up.


*All photos via we heart it. If any belong to you, please let me know and I will give proper credit.