I'm gettin hardballs this week. God keeps reminding me not to look for handouts. Not to leave my station unmanned. I think a few of my peeps have been confused by my use of the business name "The Meritocracy" - more than a few have been unable to pronounce it, let alone define it. So lets talk about that today because I need a little reminding myself. Everyone, thanks to plenty of over-use in the United States, knows the word democracy, and how to pronounce it, so all you have to do is add "merit" to 'ocracy', instead of 'dem'. Got it? Merit-ocracy. Meri-tockrassy. Good? Good.
I first came across this word, in meaningful context to myself, in some writings by Mark Twight. The hard as nails founder and proprietor of Gym Jones, most famous for beating into shape the cast of "300" in 3 months for the shoot. At the time I was researching lifestyle and fitness and being an all or nothing kind of gal, I eventually came across one of the toughest trainers in North America, if not the world, and I used his advice and his attitude to get me through 6 months of a very upwardly mobile time in my life, and a major change in my fitness level.
These are the words that I focused on:

"In Dune, Frank Herbert called it "the attitude of the knife,” cut off what's incomplete and say “now it has finished, for it has ended there.” So finish it, and walk away, forward. Only acts undertaken with commitment have meaning. Only your best effort matters. Life is a Meritocracy, with death as the auditor. Inconsistency, incompetence and lies are all cut short by that final word. Death will change you if you can't change yourself."

Death will change you if you can't change yourself.
This is some heavy, heavy shit my friends. (read the full article as linked for a REAL slap in the face) And this is what it took me to get through 100 push-ups, at the time. This is what it took me to commit to my family, to commit to my health, to commit to the evolution I consistently dreamt of and strived for with few truly visible results. I was doing what everyone else was doing. Getting by. Spending as much of my time on indolence as possible. Pretending my life was really fucking tough. Excusing myself for having such a hard time.
I did really well for awhile, with The Auditor in mind, but homeostasis took over and the chaos I was used to, and comfortable with, ensnared me, at some point, virtually overnight.

When naming my business I was thinking more along the lines of a philosophy, something that would encompass everything I would eventually be doing, and everyone that would be involved. To make my way based on merit alone. To recognize the individual merit in the people I wanted to surround myself with, grow with and learn from.
I wrote this to help carve out what I had in mind :

"Meritocracy is an archaic term originating in England. In a day when class and caste system were the backbone of one's existence. A group of people referred to themselves as the meritocracy - embracing an ideal of social consideration for achievement, ability, talent, effort, integrity, creativity and intelligence over blue blood connections, fame, familial or monetary standing. Personal merit being the means by which others might judge you. By which you might make your way in the world. By which you might find yourself fully realized, on your own terms, and by your own hand - in any way you wish."

The name, and the way it motivates me, lies somewhere between these two attitudes. The merit of a single person being what defines him in this world, ideally, or idealistically, and the meritocracy of life, being the battleground in which we put forth the effort that must come from the absolutely fathomless, indelible, unknowable caverns of the soul's endurance. That's it, you know? That's what you have to use to get you through it - everything you fucking have. That's what its going to take. Everything.

I fashioned a loveseat from sawdust and paint chips...

Often I sit down to write in a state of...just basically needing to get things off my chest. Initially I started writing to another blogger who's acquaintance I recently made, but then I stopped. a. because I was bitching b. because it was really personal ( I was bitching about my mother)and c. because I was planning to buy this kickass black globe from her but Steven's second layoff of the New Year caused me hesitation. So I decided not to lay it on her...
The next phase of business is Etsy, which we've made the executive decision to go ahead with. It seems like a natural solution to the gaps we have in the brick and mortar business, such as...a pretty small audience and one that might not always "get it". Etsy is a massive ( read: um, like huge ) community of hell bent entrepreneurialist artsy crazies that buy from and attract other artsy crazies. Its also absolutely splendiferous with opportunities to learn and be challenged by people on the cutting edge of indiepreneur-ism, e-business and creative genius-aliciousiosity (eff you spell check). whee! I can also have a store front that can be accessed by anyone with a computer, shopping at my store and seeing what I'm up to is not limited to those in Parksville BC.(lol) Imagine...literally thousands upon thousands of people that have walked out on The Man. I gotta say it feels a lot like home. I always figured it was a character flaw, but it turns out its a calling.

p.s. Mom - It's ON. Love, diana

The Meritocracy's Kwikie Guide to 'Spicing Up Your Blog':
1. reckless and hostile reference to hapless family member CHECK
2. juicy anti-personal poet quote of the day, preferably including the word whore CHECK
3. plenty of made up werds CHECK
4. snapshot of random, and piteously suggestive, disembodied mannequin limbs CHECK

So...I've been thinking a lot lately about the fact that choosing to live life as a creative person means constantly seeking inspiration. Not just when you feel like it...but always and everywhere.
I started gathering together some design images that I liked so we could start up a dialogue about modern design. But somehow it just wasn't turning out....I kept thinking about what it is about design in 2010 that excites me the most. Its the eclecticism. There has never been a better time to push the envelope, there has never been a better time to throw all the rules out the window, and there has never been a better time to start expressing yourself, personally, and fearlessly.
This week I'm looking for inspiration for a shoot I'm doing and I've ended up amongst the indie-est of indie. Graffiti art.
Fashion and design have been intimidating, in large part, to those who don't have the cash to finance perfection. Magazines and television have told us that we should be surrounded by brand new/brand name and flawless interiors that we could realistically never afford. It can be defeating and discouraging. A bad economy will streamline priorities in a number of ways. It pushes us to think about whats really important, to be more creative with what we have, and when you get to the point that you have little to lose, you are often free to make choices you wouldn't have otherwise risked. This industriousness can show up in your life in a variety of ways - a more practical budget,an awareness of those less fortunate, a healthier diet, a new career, more time spent with loved ones,paring down of unnecessary, rat race induced stress, a new found do-it-yourself vibe around the house....good old fashioned pioneering. The environmental issues we are facing have also caused trends to move toward recycling and re-using what you have, or what is available in your community, which promotes inventiveness. Conspicuous consumption has become somewhat despicable. Quality has become rare and prized. Homemade has become the exotic. A wild swing from the old days when having pale skin meant you were rich enough not to have to spend time in the fields, a status symbol, and having store bought goods was the ultimate luxury.
Graffiti art is an interesting example of doing what you can with what you have. Creating beauty for its own sake, or an opportunity to speak where none was offered. It has also less rules than your average canvas, just in terms of the artist that may find his or herself concerned mostly with aesthetics, and being illegal it smacks of anarchy. What could be more liberating?












Art is a medium....like music it speaks to everyone, no matter who or where or in what language. This week I encourage us both to find art in unlikely places and unlikely things. To re-think and re-arrange. To make beauty out of the industrial ( the corporate! ) or the mundane. To say things we can't say with spoken words. To stretch out and be a little bolder!

the spring of my discombobulation.

Spring is apparent on The Island...there are little blooms and budding trees and birdies chirping. The days are longer.
My feelings are mixed.
I crave the light as much as any animal does after a long, hard winter. Unfortunately, after a death defying first trimester in my pregnancy four years ago, this time of year always makes me feel nauseous. Associative illess I guess.
I've thrown myself into a business venture that I may or may not be able to support, both Steven and I having been laid off from our respective jobs in the same week. I'm thinking of changing the name from The Meritocracy to The Garage Sale.
And as of today I have re-scheduled predictive testing for Huntington's disease for the second time. Legitimately as a result of Steven going out of town for work we desperately need and I without a babysitter....illegitimately because I have finally approached the precipice and its a lot further down than I intitially thought. A lot. Further. Down.
I've been having nightmares and generally feeling tired and sludgey brained. My diet has been reprehensible over the past 6 months. Its time for a cleansing.

Wilder, Jenn and I went to Chemainus yesterday for a poke around, collecting goodies for the store, and scouting out great local business. Its an important task of modern living to thrive in and become part of the community around you. Its ecologically friendly and easier on everyone's resources. It also builds relationships and quality of life. Living on The Island has sometimes been a challenge for me, because I crave the things readily available in the city. The truth is however, that its been years and years since I was familiar with everything thats going on in the surrounding communities. The area has developed tremendously in the past 15 or 20 years and there is far more going on than I ever gave it credit for. Thats what I'm here to prove, to myself. I would like to weave together a network of independent business, art, design, music and culture making its home on Vancouver Island.
One of the places I noticed right away in Chemainus was The Dancing Bean Cafe, a cozy little storefront with a great atmosphere,roomy seating arrangement, delicious in-house baked goods and licensed to accomodate the live music events they regularly host. Enthusiastically supporting the local music scene - they give 100 percent of ticket sales to the performing artist.


We also found a fantastic little soap shop called Willow Street Soap. Tiny and chic, with every luxury body care line you could hope to find and a few you've never heard of, including local product of the highest calibre. Highly recommended!

So then we may or may not have ended up at the candy store.




And after choosing a few cool items from the local antique store Chemainus shut down completely, and it had gotten oddly dark and cold, so we raced for the car. Noticing this in the nearest window I had to take a picture of it, because it reminded me so much of my husband:



It was printed on an apron. I laughed. I don't know if Jenn thought it was funny but I did. Maybe its because she's not married yet.


Picks of the day.





Quote of the day:
" It's for Steverino." Wilder to the countergirl, while buying a lolly for her Daddy.

anatomy of a rental ageement.

I have been trying to convince my landlord that I have some redeemable ideas regarding the house I live in - an old Victorian, with very high ceilings, oddly cut into two separate residences. Subjective I know. But there are always a few things that can be done to streamline and modernize nearly any space.
I aimed a request at him, with ample evidentiary support, to paint the fridge black, with chalkboard paint. Its fairly atrocious, and when I moved in I had to spend an hour scraping fungi out of the seals and various other non-specific areas. So I've never been super turned on by it. Its dented, the bottom is twisted, its energetically retarded. Its aesthetically defunct. I figured it was on its last legs anyway....but I guess he disagrees.

"Diana,

Please, no.

Cheers, Roy*"


I have also been forbidden to paint or remove the light fixtures. Pseudo-Victorian brass numbers with dusty rose glass lenses. Tres chic! And so very complimentary to the 90's mod track lighting. And, although the current paint scheme is colour blocked ketchup red ( kitchen ), muddy mustard yellow ochre ( living room, dining room, entrance way ), khaki green (living room, both bedrooms, back hallway), khaki brown ( 2nd bedroom, bathroom ) and a forbidding shade of black/brown ( master bedroom ) I have been assured that I can paint, at my expense, but if he deems it inappropriate for the inevitable next renter, he will charge me to have it re-painted. So, what that means to me is that the current scheme has been considered rent able. Along with the aforementioned lighting fixtures. And a few other choice items left behind that I'll leave out, including the incredibly huge, heavy and shabbily painted antique mirror in the bathroom which was supported in its mooring by a 2x4, also painted, and nailed into the wall underneath it. But I'm leaving that out, as I said. Along with a few other things, as I said.
I went so far as to send him my resume. And I also sent him these:

Avec Muddy Mustard Yellow:


Sans Muddy Mustard Yellow!






" Diana,

Looks fine.

Cheers, Roy* "


*certain names of persons, places, things and the occasional mineral have been changed to protect the innocent/landlords. According to 'the meritocracy by-laws' and guidelines, landlords are, by nature, innocent to a large degree, and the very word "landlord" is synonymous with purity. God bless them.

Everybody and their dog has a blog.

First post. First day of posting. Very first post. Post traumatic stress disorder. Post office. Post partum. Post blog set-up posting.
Welcome to The Meritocracy's blog....a fine way to keep in touch with my casual, yet rigorous stabs at marketing this exciting project. I have joined the DIY-ers and accepted my place in the world as a pop-culture dictionary and style savvy living consultant. What does that mean? I guess we'll find out!

Stay Hard,
Diana