Beauty crowds me till I die,
It follows me everyday, every night, everywhere.
I can feel it watching, waiting...knowing,
that I know it's following.
It's disconcerting I find, to know it's everywhere.
I can smell it in the tree's, the wind, the crowds;
of people standing in small clusters, talking of the world around them.
The beauty, it's in colour, light, sound;
the way the world spins round and round.
It's found in rhyme, poems and books;
where the imagination breaks free and all I see.
Is beauty.
It's always there, in the strangest of places.
Street corners, where people gather;
to listen to beauty, simple and sweet, from the violin of a homeless man.
This is the beauty I've been talking about,
the kind most don't understand.
To know this kind of beauty is to suffocate in it;
to drown and panic and know that you can never escape it.
But you want to understand it, in an inexplicable way.
I can tell you though, if you want to know this beauty;
speak without talking, look without seeing and hear without listening.
To do this you need to heighten your senses and understand the world;
know that beauty will be with you until there is beauty no more.
Beauty is with me,
is crowds me.
And I suffocate under the knowledge;
that I will never see it.
I will never see the colours, the trees, the music;
words of poems and books elude me.
So I will listen, and touch, and speak.
But most of all I will look without seeing.
I am blind, but beauty crowds me.

Dear Santa: from Allison

December 24th, 2009

Allison Collingwood

254 Forrest Brook Drive Depp Town

Canada HUG HJM

Santa Claus

Chief Toymaker

321 Candy Cane Lane

North Pole HOH OHO

Dear Santa,

I'd like to start this letter with the comment, that i am a Good Girl. Now you may have several reasons to contradict this statement. But let me tell you now Santa. It's all lies. Every. Single. One.

Trust me, I would know.

In fact, I have been nicer than most kids on the very top of your nice list. I clean the house, look after the dogs, mow the lawn, clean the pool, do the dishes, keep my room nice and tidy, and of course maintain my always perfect work ethic both at home and at school, which leads to my exceptional grades. I know you may be thinking, 'then why on my list, does it say that Allison never cleans the house, could care less about the dogs, lets the lawn become over run with exotic plants and weeds, if anything contributes to the grime of the pool by tossing in her cat, lets the dishes pile up, keeps her room to the expectations of a pig pen, and also has a very low... oh wait no her work ethic is good.' Let me tell you Santa. I may have had a few rough moments this year. And there may have been long periods of time between room cleanings. But this was all do to my overload of extracurricular activities. Which of course, all better the community in one way or another.

Take my dance for example, you may think this is just a personal activity, but no. When I have performances, I better mankind with my amazing displays of skin. Because I'm a belly dancer, and that's what I do, and people love me for it.

And so Santa, because I'm obviously a very good person, I would ask you for only two things this Christmas.

In order to explain why I want these two things, I think you might need some background on my longtime love of Johnny Depp and Hugh Jackman.

For you see Santa, no one has every loved a man, as much as I love these two actors. Ask any of my friends, they'll tell you, no ones love runs as deep as Allisons does for Johnny Depp and Hugh Jackman. And let me just divulge a small piece of information about how to speak Hugh Jackman's name. You cant just say "Oh there's that actor Hugh Jackman" you have to stress the 'ooh' sound of Hugh, and the 'ack' of Jackman in order to properly pronounce this incredible mans name. So instead of just Hugh Jackman, you now say it as. Huuuuugh Jaaacccckkkkkman

I accept your thanks on this mispronunciation correction.

Oh, but I got a little off topic there.

Back to those two things I want. Johnny Depp and Hugh Jackman. I would prefer if they were tied, gagged, and packaged in large decorative boxes that have enough air holes to ensure their survival until about seven o clock am Christmas morning. This is the time that I will bolt from my bedroom as if I was escaping from hell itself in order to dive beneath the tree and unwrap the very large packages that I know you have certainly brought me.

Now you may think that this is a very strange request Santa. But as I have been a very good person, I'm sure you agree, that these two wonderful actors will be much better off living with me then making movies.

So Santa, in closing. I thank you in advance for my two gifts and look forward to writing you again next year with a similar request, after all. There are many more wonderful actors out there.

Yours truly,

Allison

Is Passion Important?

When asked whether I feel its important to like your job, to enjoy what you're doing for the majority of every day of your adult life; I responded with a yes. And this wasn't just any yes. This was a yes said in such a tone that it left little room for the question asker to believe otherwise.
I simply think, if you don't enjoy your job then what's the point? Sure some people might fantasize about saving millions of dollars and living the dream once they retire, but if you spend years of your life working in misery then I dont see the appeal.
We spend years in the school system learning math and reading and science, and most importantly. That you're not smart enough for the job you wanted when you were a kid. So instead of coming up with a new dream job, most people just take whatever's next. Usually working in a retail store for a year or two before University, if they even decide to go back to school. But this hope for a good career shouldn't be lost, one should aspire to have a job they can enjoy every day. One that provides variety from the monotony of life, offers something exciting and another hour to look forward to.
As for me, I want to become a Linguist, fluent in as many languages as I can learn in my life time. I dont believe I wont be able to accomplish my goal, I think it's fully attainable and I will do anything to get there.
Steps involved in getting to my goal are so far: Attending Carleton University for a major in Linguistics and a minor in Spanish and French. I'll probably end up working for the government after that, as long as I can travel and continue language research then I really dont care. As long as I enjoy my job and am passionate about what I'm learning then I'll be happy.

It's Dark inside

I'm sure we've all heard of the song about that guy Mack, the one that goes around biting people with pearly white teeth? He also happens to be a knife; now is it ringing some bells?
I have something to tell you.
Being a knife is not fun.
And this is coming from first hand experience, not second hand, and certainly not from my mother's brother-in-law's second cousin, three times removed on his fathers side.
Why? You might ask; would I have first hand experience?
Because I am a knife.
Let me give you a little insight on what it's like to be a knife, a thiefs knife to be precise.
It's always dark.
Always a black, colourless void deep inside the confines of the pocket. Which of course is the most convenient place for a knife such as myself to be stored. It's within easy access, always on hand in the most trying of times, such as when getting caught while robbing a convenience store. It's always nice to know that I am there to change the tide in a violent confrontation. After all, you never know when the opposing person could pull out a club or a bat or a wrench, or another weapon of formidable force.
But it's not often that I am used, my thief tends to run rather than fight. And often has no need to run, because he is never caught.
So I sit, and wait. Patiently of course, for I was taught that patience is a virtue. And I remain in the darkness until such a time comes when I need to be used. And all the while I sing "Mack the Knife."

The Book of Negroes...I mean the ACTUAL book of Negroes

"The Book of Negroes" is a well written, historical fiction about slave trading in Africa written by Lawrence Hill. Many things about this book are interesting and thought-provoking, tearful and heart-wrenching. As the reader follows the story of Aminata Diallo, a young African girl taken from her home and sent overseas to America, one very important question is called to mind. What exactly is the book of Negroes? 

As Revolution began in the thirteen American colonies in the late seventeen hundreds, the British were badly outnumbered. As a last resort they promised freedom to any slave of a rebel who fought the Americans on their behalf but the response was greater than they could have imagined; as many as 30 000 slaves escaped to British lines. Working as soldiers, labourers, pilots, cooks, and musicians, they were a major part of the unsuccessful British war effort. As defeat became inevitable, these free blacks were evacuated to Nova Scotia with the other Loyalists on the promise of land, home and continued freedom.

In order to track the many people making the journey from New York to Nova Scotia, a log was created to record the black loyalists names, appearance and proof of their freedom.

Men, women and children would line up for hours at a time in order to get their name penned into the Book of Negroes. They were described as "stout, fine, able bodied, worn out, fine wench, healthy negress" and many other words. These descriptions were written beneath the name of the ship they would be traveling on, and where it was bound for.

In Lawrence Hill's book, Aminata Diallo participates in the penning of names, she sits for days at a table with other workers, writing down descriptions of other people just like her, hoping beyond hopes that their lives in Nova Scotia will prove to be prosperous. 

This true history; added in to an already engaging, detailed book; helps to add depth and a sense of awe to the story line. Knowing that the log still exists in our time, that people who were once broken down and treated lower than dirt, had their hopes raised at the prospect of having their identity recorded is a humbling fact. 

This book is definitely one to pause between chapters and consider what it is the text is saying. The human emotions, the conflicts and decisions are real enough to be felt and the history is an essential part to the story.

It would be interesting, to one day set eyes on The Book of Negroes.

Being Thankful

Often times when reading a book or watching a movie, you realize how well off you really are, how great your life is, and how awful it could be. You definitely think about these kinds of things while reading "The Book of Negroes" by Lawrence Hill. How lucky we are to live in such a great time, where human rights are climbing the political and social ladder. And what a great country we have! Free from slave trading and heavy prejudice, such a free place to express our opinions and ideals.
While reading about the maltreatment of the African people, it strikes you that you have never suffered as they are suffering, and you hope you never will. A wave of thankfullness, mixed with sadness hits you as you realize that there are still people going through the slave trade, being trafficked as if they were no more important than cheap drugs acidentally spilt on the roadside.
Hopefully there will be a day where human rights are of chief importance all around the world, that every country becomes outraged at the mere mention of a slave. But until then we can hope that the children and adults captured and kept under deplorable conditions find some relief, and be thankful for the lives we have and the places we live.

The Danger of Lack of Interest

Even though a community, family, or any other kind of social unit may seem completely normal, that doesn't necessarily mean it is. This kind of situation is apparent in the short story "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson. What appears to be a normal functioning, run of the mill community turns out to be a group of people willing to stone a person to death just because they drew a piece of paper with a black dot on it. Similarly in "The Book of Negroes" by Lawrence Hill, what appear to be loving happy communities of people in Africa turn out to be abusive and indifferent of their fellow man when slave coffle's are led through their towns. This indifference is also talked about in a speech made by Elie Wiesel called The Perils of Indifference. He talks about how regular countries, so similar to the regular community in "The Lottery"; ignore such life altering things such as the Holocaust, or the stoning of a person. Wiesel also talks about how shocking it is to discover that people were indifferent about such things. How could one human being just completely disregard the life of another? It does happen, and it occurs in communities, families, and other social units more often than we would like to admit.