Jessica's Perspective

[New York Post:]
3 June 2012

(I was shown how fragile life is on Saturday.)


TORONTO -- Police in Toronto were searching for a gunman who opened fire in a shopping mall Saturday evening, killing one person.

The shooting occurred about 6:20 p.m. local time in the food court of the downtown Eaton Centre, local TV news channel CP24 reported.


(I saw the terror on bystanders’ faces. I saw the victims of a senseless crime.)

Two women and a man were also rushed to the hospital and were in serious condition. All were suffering gunshot wounds 

A pregnant woman went into labor after being caught up in the stampede for the exits after the shooting. Two other people were injured in the stampede.

(I saw lives change.)


Marcus Neves-Polonio, a 19-year-old busser at the food court, told The Globe and Mail he saw a man take out a gun and start firing. Neves-Polonio said he saw one person get shot in the chest.
He described the scene as "mayhem" as people ran for the doors.

The Eaton Centre is the largest shopping mall in downtown Toronto and police said it was packed with thousands of people at the time of the shooting.

(I was reminded that we don’t know when or where our time on Earth will end. When or where we will breathe our last breath. For one man, it was in the middle of a busy food court on a Saturday evening.)



[BBC News:]
20 July 2012

(I say all the time that every moment we have to live our life is a blessing. So often I have found myself taking it for granted.)


At least 12 people have been killed and 59 wounded in a shooting at a midnight cinema showing of the new Batman film near Denver, Colorado.
Witnesses said a man wearing a gas mask opened fire after tossing a tear gas canister in the auditorium.


(Every hug from a family member. Every laugh we share with friends. Even the times of solitude are all blessings.)


Friends and family of Jessica Ghawi, a 24-year-old aspiring sports broadcaster, have identified her as one of the 12 people killed in the Colorado shooting spree. A survivor of another shooting at a shopping mall in Canada just one month ago, her death was confirmed by her brother on his blog.


(Every second of every day is a gift.)


Jessica Ghawi, who wrote and tweeted as Jessica Redfield, had recently moved to Denver from Texas, and was working as a sports journalist. She narrowly escaped another major shooting event, leaving a food court in Toronto's Eaton Center minutes before a deadly shooting occurred there in June.


(After Saturday evening, I know I truly understand how blessed I am for each second I am given.

-Jessica Redfield, 1988-2012)

I read an article about advances in bio-engineering today. Apparently they made a functional artificial jellyfish out of silicone and rat cells. That’s pretty cool.

Maybe I can make something too.

The building blocks of life

(This is about how far I got before I realized that I might need to go to the craft store.)



If I was going to bring another creature into the world, I wanted to know my creation would be able to experience hardships in life, and yet come through with wisdom and experience.

This also helps make sure he won't get up and run away

And so naturally, he developed into a badass.

Ran out of black thread for his torso. An innocent enough error that sadly left him somewhat gender confused.

But don't worry. Underneath the tough exterior is a sensitive soul.



Aww.

I Was Reading a Scientific Article

They have photographed the brain
and here is the picture, it is full of
branches as I always suspected,

each time you arrive the electricity
of seeing you is a huge
tree lumbering through my skull, the roots waving.

It is an earth, its fibres wrap
things buried, your forgotten words
are graved in my head, an intricate

red blue and pink prehensile chemistry
veined like a leaf
network, or is it a seascape
with corals and shining tentacles.

I touch you, I am created in you
somewhere as a complex
filament of light

You rest on me and my shoulder holds

your heavy unbelievable
skull, crowded with radiant
suns, a new planet, the people
submerged in you, a lost civilization
I can never excavate:

my hands trace the contours of a total
universe, its different
colors, flowers, its undiscovered
animals, violent or serene

its other air
its claws

its paradise rivers

-Maragret Atwood

Of Cabbages and Kings

Cabbages & Kings Literary and Visual Arts Magazine

Ending this last semester was a bigger weight off my shoulders than I could have ever imagined. By the last couple weeks, when people asked me what my plans for the summer were, I would tell them "I'm just going to fall over...and I'm not going to get back up." 

True story, as it turns out.

I'm lying here having discovered a couple things about myself in the last month. Mostly weaknesses that I knew existed somewhere in there, but I had yet to be confronted with their actual depth. I've never had to stop and accept that I was in a state of honest dysthymia like I was as this last month came to an end. I managed to lose a lot of academic ground in the withered mindset I got myself stuck in. Not to mention my fading ability to trust the voice coming out of my own mouth, or continuing to ignore the inevitable misfuckery I constantly try to keep on the (distant?) horizon. Plus I managed to misplaced 15 lbs due to stress/poor diet/etc somewhere back there. 

But hey, it's over.

I'm doing alright now. 

Moving on.

Jay and Silent Bob My co-editor and I on a 2am city romp
through the glorious subways of NYC.
I might be singing something.

The one good thing I can say about this last semester is that my magazine team and I really put out an excellent publication over at Cabbages & Kings, and had quite an adventure making it. 

Nearly the entire staff was relatively new to the magazine, all of us serving our first terms in office. Including myself at the head of production as the Editor-in-Chief. But we still managed to craft a solid magazine that's been well received by every department that's seen it so far, traveled to NYC for hands-on training as current and future publication editors, and even fostered a small community of artists by hosting open mic poetry nights on campus and developing writer's workshops for students in the coming semester. 

I just got back from a dinner meeting tonight with my officers to plan and schedule for the next school year, and it's safe to say that the goals we've been fomenting for this next effort use this last issue as a catalyst to reach excellence C&K may never have achieved before. It's something I can get excited about; a refreshing feeling considering where I've been lately.

I've come to the conclusion that I am not an excellent student. It's okay. Not everyone is cut out for this. But at least I know that I'm a damn good editor, if nothing else. And I've been given an opportunity to bring out the best in the people I work with, through managing the publication itself, as well as building a grassroots effort on my campus to connect and cultivate aretè in the artists of my community.

It's something to look forward to.