The BoJack Horseman Show

It's been awhile since I've posted anything, as I'm sure you've noticed. I've been working on a new project and it has been taking most of my focus. However, Netflix dropped season 4 of the outstanding BoJack Horseman last week, so I thought I would talk about it. Honestly, this whole post was birthed from the idea for a tweet, but the show deserves more than just a moderately clever tweet. There have been many articles and reviews written about BoJack, and mine will probably skew fairly close to the rest of them. According to Rotten Tomatoes, the last 3 seasons of Bojack have averaged a 98% rating, and it honestly deserves it. The show is, ostensibly, about an anthropomorphic horse trying to revitalize his acting career in a Hollywood, sorry--Hollywoo full of other anthropomorphic animals and humans. In reality, the show is an unflinching look at the affects of mental illness, drug use, and the societal state of North America. The tweet that sparked this post was about this, something along the lines of: "Five years ago, I would've never believe that the most accurate portrayal of  depression on TV came from an animated horse."

We live in a time where adult focused cartoons allow themselves to focus on dark topics instead of just dick jokes. A few years ago all the adult focused cartoons were in the same vein of Family Guy--crass and shallow. Now we have shows like BoJack Horseman, Archer, and, yeah, Rick and Morty. I would like to go on permanent record to say that BoJack is, by far, the best written and acted of all of those. I could be biased by the fact that I relate more to the characters in BoJack than the others, but I don't care. The writers and cast of the show aren't afraid to show the deep flaws that all the characters have: BoJack is clinically depressed, narcissistic, and an alcoholic, Princess Caroline is so afraid of failure that she pushes everyone away at the slightest hint that she might screw up and has always put her job before everything, Mr Peanut Butter has never had to work for anything but has a crippling need for people to like him, Diane is neurotic and hates when people do things for her--even when they're just trying to be nice, and Todd has no path in life and doesn't know who he is so he tries to be everyone. And those are just the main characters, never mind the lives of the supporting cast (like BoJack's mother, who's past is a major part of season 4 and is incredibly distressing).

The thing that BoJack gets so right about mental illness is that it never really goes away: it's always there, just waiting to make a comeback. Over the course of season 2 and 3, Bojack starts to redeem himself in his eyes. He gets to make the movie that he has always wanted, and he's a big star again. He even starts to like himself, just a little. Then, it goes away. He starts to hate himself again, and he doesn't know why. He has everything that he has ever wanted, and he has a feeling of fulfillment, yet it's not enough. And because BoJack doesn't handle his illness in a healthy way, things go from bad to worse. He puts all of his happiness on getting an Oscar nomination, and when that doesn't happen, he goes on a major, months long drug bender with a former co-star who ends up dying in his arms in some shitty hotel room. Following that, he decides that he doesn't deserve to live anymore. He takes off in his car, and when he's all alone, he floors it and takes his hands off the wheel. But before he crashes, he sees some horses running through the desert, and for a second, he sees what life could be and he stops.

In less depressing praise for the show, it also has the single greatest representation of an asexual character on television: Todd. At the end of season 3, Todd begins to realize that he's not straight, and in a heartbreaking moment he says: "maybe I'm nothing," which is something many aces could relate to. And, during season 4, Todd comes to fully embrace and accepts his asexuality, and even comes out about it to BoJack, who is supportive of Todd. The show even showcased an Ace Meet Up and had Todd hang out with fellow aces. In a television climate where we barely have any queer rep, let alone asexual rep, BoJack Horseman has given an asexual main character, and several ace secondary characters.

I love this show. It has some of the best puns on TV, and deals with important issues in a way that doesn't try to hide the dark side of humanity. Seriously, I cannot overstate how amazing, and important this show is. Which is a weird thing to say about a show about a talking horse and animal pals, but here we are. In 2017, the most human show of all barely has any human characters. Which is probably what makes it watchable.

I'm just gonna throw in some more gifs that I had considered using now.

Being proud

June is nearly over, and with that Pride month comes to an end. I've only written one thing on it so far, and there are various reasons for that which I won't really get into. Evan Edinger recently released a video about Pride month talking about how he isn't proud of his sexuality because it isn't something that he's accomplished, much like how he isn't proud of his height. And while I understand what he's trying to say and do, I kinda disagree. People in the queer community are often the targets of hate and discrimination, much like all minorities, and we must stand up in the face of that hate. And the easiest way to stand up to hate, is to be proud of who you are. So, to Evan, I say this: we need to be proud of who we are, even if we're being proud of something we were born with.

There are a lot of times that I'm scared of being myself, but Pride always gives me a relatively safe space to be myself. I am proud of who I am, but life is a continuous journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, and I haven't fully accepted all that I am yet. As a non-binary person, I'm not 100% certain how I want to express that, so it's not something that I showcase in my daily life, and possibly it's not something that those close to me even remember or think about. I know I've asked on my twitter for people to use gender neutral pronouns when referencing me, but I have no way of knowing if anyone actually does. It's not like I hear them talking about me to other people, so unless people outright tell me, I have no clue and I'm too 'scared' to ask. By scared, I just mean that I don't want to annoy people by asking them if they're using my preferred pronouns. Which is fucked up. It's my gender, I should be comfortable with asking people to use my pronouns, unless subconsciously I'm not comfortable with my own gender yet. But that's a whole other story for another day.

Pride is a time to be proud of who we are as the queer community. To be proud of everything that we have accomplished, and everything we have survived. It is my personal belief that we, as members of the queer community, should be proud of our sexualities and genders. We have to be, so that future generations can look at us, see all that we've overcame, and see that we can still smile.

Remember, none of us are ever alone. We are a community. We are a family. And we are proud.

Trigger Warning: Buried lies, buried life.

This is my latest published article. It touches on depression and suicidal thoughts. If you are feeling depressed or suicidal, please talk to someone.  

As we age, we often look back upon our lives and wonder what could’ve been. If we had made better choices then would we be in a better place now? If I had gone left instead of right, if I had said yes instead of no, questions like that can haunt us.  

And maybe they should.  

Over the past two years, I have done a remarkable amount of soul-searching and self-discovery. In that time I came to terms with my sexuality, my gender, and my own mental health. I started to let go of the things that were holding me back. Past events that I kept hidden from everyone, including myself, that were stunting my personal growth. I would often lie about myself in the face of questions, and over time I came to believe my own lies. I lost myself. I buried myself is actually more accurate. I buried myself under the detritus of my lies, and I suffered for that.  

At the age of six, I decided to become religious. My parents did not force religion on me; they never made me go to church, or anything like that. It was my decision. The church, especially back then, was not accepting of people outside of gender norms, and of different sexualities. I was taught that it was a sin to be gay, and that gay marriage was wrong. And I believed it. For a long time. Whenever I had doubts or thoughts regarding my own sexuality I would bury it down. Whenever I did something (hug, cuddle, etc) with a guy, I would tell myself it was because of how secure I was in my own sexuality. Whenever I expressed interests in things that were “girly”, I would tell myself it was because of how masculine I was.  

I buried myself under the lies of my own making.  

I went to a bible college (one of the best in the country) that was actively against same-sex marriage, and routinely taught that homosexuality was not just a sin, but that it was simply wrong. I remember when another school backed out of a deal with mine over our stance on same-sex marriage, and our President painted the other school the villain, and I believed him. That homosexuality was wrong was ingrained in me. I didn’t even question it.  

The church disapproves of a lot, and it hides a lot. Members with mental health problems, be they anxiety, depression, or whatever, are told to pray more, or members of the congregation pray over them. If you were suffering from depression, you just obviously weren’t being a good Christian, so you hid it. You put a smile on, and you buried how you really felt so no one else could find out. This really fucked me up. Whenever I would feel down, I would just pray and pretend that everything was better. 

But it never was. It never got better.  

I kept things buried down, simmering out of sight, just waiting to explode. I would have outbursts of emotion: anger, fear, sadness, doubt. My self-worth and confidence became non-existent, and still I buried it down. I tried to keep it hidden from everyone. I didn’t want people to worry. I didn’t want to be shunned.  

This, of course, was extraordinarily bad for my mental health. I did end up on medication, which I hated for how it made me feel like I was empty. But the medication wasn’t my lowest point. That came in October of 2006.  

I was 16, still attending church where I was seen as a leader amongst the youth, and very active in the student council at my school. I wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but all the various cliques liked me. My days of being constantly bullied were behind me, and to the people looking in, my life seemed, well, good. The fact that every second was all out warfare in my mind was not evident to people. My feelings and problems were mine, dammit. I took in everyone’s problems, but never let anyone know mine. I had to be strong for everyone. That was my job, Jesus could take my burden, I would take everyone else’s. Unsurprisingly, this was not a good choice. I just became more and more depressed and worn out. I began to have suicidal thoughts. I wanted to escape, and I didn’t know how. I thought suicide was a legitimate option.  

So I decided to do it. I was home alone. I started cleaning before my parents left for a meeting, so I had music playing as I always did. Sometime after they left, I was ready. I won’t go into the details, they’re not important, but something happened that stayed my hand: a song started playing.  

The song was “Zero” by Hawk Nelson, and it’s about the affect that suicide has on everyone else. Words have always held power to me, and these words froze me in place. The lyrics washed over me, and I wept. At the end of the song, I collapsed and cried for a long time. Since that day, there have been many times when I’ve regretted not following through, but I have never acted on it again.  

This suicide attempt is one of the things I have kept buried. My depression is one of the things I have kept buried in. I didn’t want pity, I still don’t, but burying them down was not dealing with them. They are part of me. They, in a way, help to define me, and they allow me to relate. By pretending they didn’t exist within me, I was perpetrating the stigma that exists around mental health. Not only that, I was still damaging my own.  

I was, and am, so used to keeping things buried, that I didn’t give it a second thought. For years, I kept those thoughts buried down deep. 

I feel out of the church in my early twenties. I got so tired of the hypocrisy that I was seeing in its members. All these people claiming to serve god while they just served themselves, never mind the fact that felt that god had turned his back on me. For the first time since I was six, I didn’t know the direction of my life. I had gone to school to be a youth pastor for a church and a god that I no longer trusted. All that time and money I had invested became for naught. I was rudderless.  

It was around this time that the walls I had built began to crumble, and all my latent feelings and beliefs about gender and sexuality started bubbling forth. When I was religious I had assumed that my lack of sexual attraction to people stemmed from how awesome of a Christian I was. But I wasn’t a Christian anymore, and I still wasn’t being sexually attracted to people. I thought I was broken. So I buried it. Like I always did. Bad habits are hard to break.  

As I moved away from the church, more and more of my friends were queer, so I became immersed in that world. I read papers about it, I read articles, and I researched the history and the different aspects of it. In my studies, I stumbled across an article about asexuality. It intrigued me, so I read it. And it fit. Things made sense. I wasn’t broken, I was asexual. I was excited and I read everything I could find on it! I had the beginnings of a path in front of me; I just had to follow it! I was overjoyed. 

I think I told two people. 

I was still figuring it out; it was still new and personal. And I didn’t want to share. What if I was wrong? After all, things hadn’t worked out so well for me last time I thought things made sense. I guess I was mainly scared. Part of me still believed that not being straight was a sin, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t straight.  

With this new perspective, I looked back on my life: all the times cuddling with my male roommates, all the times flirting random guys in the city. Was it possible that, not only was I asexual, but also not heteroromantic? The answer was yes. As I researched more, as I dug into myself more, I discovered that I was more panromantic than hetero.  

But how I could come to terms with this? How could I let myself be honest, not just with myself, but with everyone?  

Unfortunately, I wasn’t done with the self-discoveries.  

As I reflected on my life trying to figure out what kind of man I was, I realized that I wasn’t a man. I wasn’t a woman either though, so this discovery left me more rattled than I was before. In the midst of discovering my sexuality, I began questioning my gender. My whole life I KNEW I was a man. That’s what everyone said I was. That’s what my biology told me. Now that fact was being called into question. Gender identities weren’t taught in high school and I went to a Christian college, so this wasn’t an area I had had much experience in.  

Thank goodness for Google. 

I found non-binary on a list of genders. It fit. It made sense. All the anomalous past events—those things that ‘normal’ guys don’t do—started making sense. Slowly, after decades of lying to myself, I was beginning to truly find myself.  

Looking back now at my past, there are parts I regret. I wish I had discovered my sexuality and gender at a younger age. Maybe I would’ve liked myself more. Some days I wish I had followed through with my suicide attempt, most days I don’t, but I’m more honest about my mental health now, and it’s getting better. It’s not something that will ever go away, but it’s become something that I can admit to and deal with in a healthy manner. I’m slowly becoming more open with people, and I am becoming more comfortable with my own skin. I still dress and act like a man on a daily basis; partly because it’s habit, partly because I’m still scared to be 100% me.  

As I sit here, looking back, I have regrets. We all do. I wish I had done things differently. I wish I had handled certain situations better, and I wish I had treated certain people better. But if anyone asks me if I would go back and change anything, I say no. Everything that has happened, all the bad, all the good, all the mistakes, they all brought me to where I am today. My experiences have made me the person that I am. And now that I’m actually being honest with myself, I’m starting to like that person.  

Another thing on #NationalComingOutDay

                I’ve come to the realization that I, a writer, have never actually put to words my coming out. I’ve spoken about in videos, and I have mentioned my sexuality in other posts and articles, but I have never actually written down my coming out. Since it is #NationalComingOutDay, and my pumpkin spice latte is empty, I thought that today would be a good day to do so.

                I am asexual, and my journey towards that discovery was long. I won’t bore you with that journey as this is the story of my coming out, and not of my entire life. I discovered asexuality through tumblr, also known as the modern encyclopedia, and I immediately felt a connection to the term. I dismissed that connection at first and scoffed at the very idea! By the next day I was reading every article I could find on the subject. With each article I read, things made more sense. After a few days of research and reflection, I came out to myself as asexual.

                I didn’t rush out and tell a bunch of people right away. I wanted to understand things first. After a while, I did tell a few close friends just so that I didn’t have to process it all by myself. Around this time of slowly coming out, I began to look at my gender identity as well. Was I male? Was I something else? I never had the opportunity to explore my gender before, and now, with my research into sexualities, I was able to explore the idea of gender. I was learning so much about myself, now that I actually allowed myself to question things!

                I slowly began to tell more people, and soon I was tired of just telling people individually; it was too time consuming. So I did what anyone from my generation would do: I tweeted about it. And posted on Facebook and Instagram.

                Soon I was getting messages of love and support from the friends that didn’t already know. It felt so good. Of course there were people who didn’t understand, but no one was outright rude or mean. I got the expected “so ur a plant lol” from some people, and a few asked me if I thought about what would happen to my “social standing” now that I was out. One person even asked me if my friends were worried that other people would think they were like me.

                Over all, my coming out was smooth. Most of the questions were polite and genuinely curious. Most of the comments were positive and supportive! It could’ve gone a lot worse, and I was scared that it would. But it didn’t. I took my time. I did it in a place where I felt comfortable, and at a time when I felt I was ready.

We're gonna be okay

                I’ve written about this before, but now seems like a good time to bring it up again. I, of course, am talking about the invisibility of asexuality and of aces themselves. Why now? I could be flippant and just say ‘why not’, but that’s not an honest answer. I’m bringing it up now because a main character on a successful Netflix original series has come out as asexual. BoJack Horseman, the show in question, had the character come out in its third season, which came out in July. I’m writing this to talk about the show, or give spoilers; the simple act of this happening is the reason behind the article. For those wondering, they handled it very well.

                This is a big win for representation, and helps with visibility. Is it enough? Well, no. But the only group on the planet with enough representation is the straight, white, male community. Thank god that base is covered, could you imagine if it wasn’t? All sarcasm aside, this is a good thing.

                For my newer readers (hi), a brief outline of asexuality:

·         It exists

Well, that was easy and brief! Okay, seriously though:

·         Asexuality is when one feels no sexual attraction to anyone

·         It exists on a spectrum where people can experience sexual attraction on very rare occurrences to where people never feel it

·         Asexual people are not broken, and do not have anything medically wrong with them

·         It is not caused by an imbalance in hormones

·         Asexuality does not reflect upon a person’s romantic attractions

·         An estimated 1% of the population identifies as asexual

·         The first recorded reference to asexuality was in 1896, and not on tumblr as some people like to say

·         Some asexual people enjoy sex, some don’t

·         Some asexual people masturbate, some don’t

In the end, asexual people, aces, are a varied group. The only thing all aces have in common is a lack of sexual attraction.

                That sounds super easy to understand. It’s to the point, it’s simple, and there isn’t any really big word in it! And yet asexuality remains one of the least understood and represented sexualities. With the lack of understanding comes the hate, because we all know the human race will automatically hate everything that it can’t understand!  Studies have been done that show aces are often viewed as less than human—even by others in the LGBTQIA+ community. These same studies have shown that the hate asexual people get can be far more extreme than the other sexualities, simply because we are viewed as lacking. All of my asexual friends who are open have received death threats and threats of rape. I’ve received death threats in the past, and I routinely get hate thrown my way. I know this hate is real.

                It doesn’t help that the media misrepresents asexuals as closeted freaks who just haven’t fully developed yet, or as people with mental issues. And then! Just when we think there’s a somewhat good representation, or if there is a hint of it, something bad happens to the character, or they get told that they just need to ‘get laid’. And of course, there are the countless times when asexuality has been confused with celibacy. I’m sorry, choosing to not have sex with people does not make you asexual, it merely makes you a person choosing to not have sex! Ridiculous, I know. One of the biggest examples of this is from the inexplicably still airing Big Bang Theory with their character of Sheldon. Sheldon, who may be asexual, in the early seasons is more focused on his work and his hobbies than having sex and all of his so-called friends mock him relentlessly for this, and take every opportunity to try and make him have sex. And then, because it’s a prime time sitcom and can’t have good and accurate representation, the writers of the show made the character get a girlfriend and become the person his friends had been trying to force him to become.

                Since I’ve come out, I’ve found this wonderful community to be a part of, where I was able to ask questions and grow. The people I have come to know have become like family to me, and some are now my closet friends and confidants. I have written so many words in so many different platforms about how the asexual community is a family, and it is something that I truly believe. In a world that wants to, at the very least, deny our existence, so many aces have remained positive and strong. So many have become these shining lights of positivity to the rest of the community. When the world continuously steps on us, and grinds us under foot, we remain strong. We do not give in and become bitter. We embrace the world, and we educate. We show the world that we are here, and that we are not broken.

                Whenever one of our community falls down, we help them up. Whenever one of our community breaks down in tears because of the words of their peers, we lift them up. I love this community. I love the people in it. I do not love the lies and untruths that people spread about it. I do not love the misrepresentations within the media.

This community is one that I am proud to be a part of. I am proud to be asexual, and I am proud of whatever good I have done for it. I know that some of my pieces have resonated strongly (several of them have been shared thousands of times), and I get messages from people on a regular basis thanking me, or telling me that I am doing good in the world.

I dunno guys, I think we’re gonna  be okay. 

Discrimination and Asexuality

Being asexual can be tough sometimes. Okay, it can be tough most of the time, lets be honest. We're a minority inside of a minority group. The LGBTQIA+ have been fighting to be accepted for decades, but members within that community often belittle or completely deny the existence of asexuals. We're told that we aren't "gay" enough, that we're "pretty much straight", and that we're just special little snowflakes. It's hard enough as an asexual person to live in this sex-driven society, without the added discrimination from the people who should be family. Yes, I realize there are a lot of people who support us within the queer community, and not everyone denies our existence. Please don't come to me saying that. Obviously I know this.

The sad reality is that people simply can't wrap their minds around asexuality. Asexuality should be one of the easiest sexualities to understand! But it's not. In a sex-driven, sex-filled society, we are the ones who aren't driven by sexual desires and attractions. Mainstream culture boils relationships down to sex, whereas asexual people see relationships as...well, relationships. I have friends within the community who struggle every single day with being asexual because the people around them label them as broken. "Not being sexually attracted to people is wrong." "God wants you to have sexual attraction." "How are you ever going to find a partner?" "You must be pretty fucked up in the head." "That's just a tumblr sexuality, it's not real." And my personal favourite [sarcasm heavily implied], "Five minutes with me and I'll fix that." First off, five minutes is nothing to be boasting about. Second off, fuck off. (sure hope my parents don't read this one) Third off, research into asexuality has been going on since 1896, and as we all know, tumblr didn't come online until 1899 at the earliest.

A lot of people would assume that asexual people are just overly dramatic and sensitive, surely the rest of the queer community has it much worse! But that's not the case. Brock University ran two studies in 2012, one with students, and one with non-students from different countries. These are their results from the study:

We provide evidence that antiasexual bias is a form of sexual minority prejudice, that those prone to prejudice are more prone to antiasexual bias, and that asexuals are targets of dehumanization, avoidance, and discrimination intentions. Further, we demonstrate that bias toward asexuals is either equivalent to, or even more extreme, than bias toward homosexuals and bisexuals. ... Asexuals are the sexual minority that is most clearly considered “deficient” by heterosexuals. ... Although antiasexual bias is a clear component of sexual minority prejudice, it is also unique in that it was repeatedly stronger than bias toward other sexual minorities. Most disturbingly, asexuals are viewed as less human, especially lacking in terms of human nature. This confirms that sexual desire is considered a key component of human nature, and those lacking it are viewed as relatively deficient, less human, and disliked. It appears that asexuals do not “fit” the typical definition of human and as such are viewed as less human or even nonhuman, rendering them an extreme sexual orientation outgroup and very strong targets of bias. [emphasis mine]

That’s hard to read. I got emotional reading it. I have friends that have had to deal with all of that. I’ve dealt with a small amount of it. Recently, a fellow asexual youtuber, Amelia Ace, got attacked in the comments of one of her recent videos with people making comments exactly as the study described.

                It breaks my hearts, seeing this every single day. Having my friends hurt every single day because they’re slowly starting to believe the hate that is levelled against them. Friends who have given up any hope of having a romantic relationship, because our society tells them that sex is a key component to romantic relationships. I have friends who have given up on the idea that they can be happy, simply because they’re asexual and the world tells us we’re broken.

                But we are not broken. There is nothing wrong with us. Society needs to change, not us. Society needs to accept us and embrace us. We are whole, and we are beautiful. Fuck the haters. Fuck the people who tell us we are less than them. Fuck anyone who tries to knock us down into the muck. Every time someone tries to knock us down, we will get right back up. We are stronger than their hate. We have each other. We have the support of our asexual family. Because that’s what we are, we’re more than just a community. We are family.

                According to society we are impossible, so I’m going to end with a quote from Firefly: We've done the impossible, and that makes us mighty. 

For more disturbing things the asexual family deals with, please see this article.

More than a Sexuality

     I've come to the realization that my blog views are wildly inconsistent. Like, all over the board. From several hundred in a short time, to maybe a dozen over a week. That's so crazy. I'm writing all of them, I try and put the same amount of effort into them, but still the inconsistency.

     I blame it on the communists. 

     I'm kidding Russia! I don't blame you!

    The posts with the most views are always my ones about asexuality, which I am so happy about! I've written posts on it that have been read by thousands of people! That's my goal! Get the word out there, show the world we exist. At the same time however, I am more than just my sexuality. I don't want to capitalize on just one aspect of my life. I want to showcase all my individual facets. I only wish my "ordinary" posts would receive as much attention. 

     I got sidetracked by my phone and I have lost my train of thought. Drat. 

     I love who I am. I love the community that I am a part of because of my sexuality. I love writing about it and answering people's questions. But I also love science fiction, fantasy, film and television, video games, board games, the outdoors, animals! But whenever I write about those things, no one cares (a slight exaggeration, people are still reading them). I just wish that I could write a post about one of my other passions that would take fire as quickly as my ones on asexuality. 

     I feel oddly guilty at the thought of only writing about sexuality, like I'm selling part of myself out just to gain readership!

    I want to bring awareness, I want bring it into the public spectrum, but it's not everything that I am. I feel like all activists feel this way at some point or another. Anytime someone is fighting for something there is that worry that it will become their whole identity. The world will associate them with their cause and not anything else. Kinda like an actor being typecast, but on a more fundamental level. 

    I want to be known as myself, not my cause. I'm okay with people knowing who I am because of my cause, but they need to know that I am more than that.

    This is all a little confusing, but it's just kinda where my head is at right now, Tomorrow's blog will be different, a little more focused.

    I'm asexual, but I am more than my sexuality. 

About today's video

     Today, I am tired. Like, exhausted. But that's alright. I published a video today that I am super proud of. It was my fiftieth vlog. I took extra time composing the shots. I took extra editing them to make the video flow and to just seem different and special compared to my everyday vlogs.
     I'm not saying that all my videos aren't special, but I took way more time and put in way more effort for this one because I wanted to make it extra special. While editing, I actually got a little emotional as I began to see the beginnings of the final product.
      I enjoyed the silent film quality it had, once you remove the music it is completely silent other than the opening minute of monologue. I feel that taking away the sound really allowed the visuals to come to the forefront and allow the motions to be seen rather than heard. I'm going to be honest, the shot of my dog, Teasag (pronounced Chessa, it's Celtic), being super excited and running and jumping gave me a lump in my throat. You could see the joy in her actions, you didn't need to hear her paws hitting the floor, you could just see it.
      I think it was a very pure film. It allowed me, as a filmmaker, to try things that I hadn't tried before.
     I think it is a beautiful little film, and I hope you all enjoy it as well.

You can watch it here: https://youtu.be/d5ZVBieqKpA

Snows, freshly fallen

     The snows have freshly fallen, and the air has grown crisp. One could almost assume that winter has finally struck.
    One would be assuming correctly.
    So what does winter mean to those of us in the frozen tundra that we so bravely declare our home?
    Simply put, we get really cold and stay really cold until the spring, there are days where even the slightest touch of warmth is but a fleeting fantasy. Those days when the cold sinks right into your bones and doesn't let go. The days you feel as though you are freezing from the inside out.
    Winter means an abundance of cold and wet, of slush and ice, and an unending burning freeze. Winter means a tenfold increase in danger. Winter brings death along in its wake, and shrouds everything in a perpetual dark.
     Winter means putting on twenty pounds of clothing just to walk to the car, let alone to do anything outside.
     There's a reason why in all the the old tales Jack Frost is a killer and not a saint. Our ancestors knew that winter brought death.
    Nowadays people go out and play in the snow, they revel in the crystalline flakes that descend from the heavens. They slide across the ice with blades of metal strapped to their feet, they traverse down mountains sides upon thin strips of wood, all the while laughing in the face of death.
     Nowadays people receive joy at the sight of the first snow fall, where once our ancestors dreaded that fateful day, now people bemoan how long it takes to arrive. People go out and take pictures, dancing in the falling flakes, rapturous joy plastered on their faces!
     We are not so afraid of the winter as we once were, perhaps this is good. Perhaps it is not. But it simply is.
     Alas, it is winter, and I must settle in for it. The endless months of cold and snow and ice. The promise of the fleeting summer months, all that will keep me sane.
     For the snows have freshly fallen, and the air has grown crisp.