Happiness

"Happiness hit her, like a bullet in the back." -Florence and the Machine

That is what life feels like lately.

Explosions of pure joy erupt in me like stars that illuminate the night sky. And like those celestial bodies those moments make me feel hope, a certain connection to divinity, like I AM on the right track, going in the right direction.

But like those stars I still find myself sinking in the lonely darkness of the night sky. And so I leap desperately, willing my patience, perseverance, and keenly trained perspective of positivity to carry me seamlessly toward the next bright light : a romance, an opportunity, a cherished moment with a friend, a perfect yoga class or dance, a well written line.

But there are too many times lately that I feel I miss and fail to make the next constellation connection to my starlit bliss. Instead I falter and fall, down to a place where I miss home, miss dancing, miss the yoga studio, miss my friends, miss being energetic, miss my sleep pattern miss the chance to write when I want to.

I then doubt myself, my path, my dreams and my resolve.

I continue to fall. doubt. pray. persevere.

Only to unexpectedly land on a new constellation, filled with a new elation that stretches perhaps farther than the last.

So I continue, leaping and praying, practicing and pushing, analyzing and reflecting, hoping that my leaps will become more consistent and my falls won't go down so far as I create my life's own constellation.

He used to sleep with his back to me.

The first few nights it went unnoticed. But when insecurities about the security of our bond crept in, as they always do, the waves of my restful sleep broke against the wall of his back. Pressed between the contours of his scapula, hoping to erode the hardness of his spinal column, I prayed for signs.

And so when his hand reached for mine in the small hours of the morning, I exhaled. It was as if each finger locking into mine whispered a single word...

I

will

not

desert

you

So I believed him.

But the addition of his promises were as valueless and dishonest as his hands that night. That last interlock was instead a parting handshake. A pre-emble to his final goodbye: a sinful act of making love. Before he attempted to slip out of my life, as silent and unnoticed as he slipped in.

Britney Spears defaces Alexander McQueen

Britney Spears' hotly anticipated video, "Hold it Against Me" dropped today to the delight of the blogosphere.

Set in a gleaming, sexy, post-apocalyptic world, director Jonas Akerlund does a pretty good job of disguising the once talented dancer's incompetence. While the quick cuts were enough to make question if there was something wrong with the video card in my computer, then contemplate descending into a seizure, the product placements were what really induced the nausea. But the final and most insulting part of the video was the rip off of Alexander McQueen's Spring/Summer 1999 fashion show.

In the video Britney, dressed in a huge white dress, reveals highlighter coloured paint that sprays from the tips of her fingers, colouring the fabric that flares beneath her. As tweens and fans are oohing and ahhing, Alexander McQueen must be rolling in his grave.

The original concept debuted in McQueen's 1999 Spring show, where the fashion world was brought to tears when two auto-painting robots spray painted a frightened model wearing a white dress. The message was complex; it was a thoughtful commentary on the evolution of fashion as a commodity, a critique of our descent into a digital roboticized age, and a reflection of our exploitation of creativity. The show was iconic and one of the most referenced moments in McQueen's career when the fashion world reflected on his death one year ago.

Today, Britney Spears and Jonas Akerlund spat in the face of the original genius behind this concept.

It is true that art evolves over time, is adapted, referenced and often bastardized. But it breaks my heart that amidst a spastic comeback attempt, where bad editing is only outdone by tasteless product placement, the memory and work of McQueen is defaced. Britney's reference to his work is the antithesis of McQueen's original message.

While artists like Lady Gaga frequently reference McQueen's concepts (the Bad Romance was designed in part by McQueen and debuted at his final Fall 2010 show) at least they pay homage to him and his work by honouring his message and his intent. It is clear all those behind her music are only interested in exploiting true genius for a buck, much like they did to the young southern belle.

The result a bastardized, defaced and cheapened version of the original subversive, intelligent and thought provoking message McQueen first created. But, I suppose by now, we shouldn't expect much more from Britney and her team.

Watch the real deal below...