Jou, 216 (Blog Entry 3 - The Leche of Human Kindness)

The best way to get better at something is to practice it often.  I've taken to bringing my camera with me whenever I depart into the outside world, probably to the discomfort of my close acquaintances.  Luckily, they've been very supportive.

I recently photographed my friend's two-year-old daughter, getting her in focus proved to be quite the challenge.  The fun part of candid shots is that they don't have to be perfectly crisp, sometimes the imperfect ones lend to the subject, as more often than not, a toddler will be tapping into their wellspring of forever energy.

Heidi is a sweetheart.  The first time I met her, she looked at me like I was the devil.  Since then she's rather warmed up to me and has proceeded to turn on the doe eyes with abandon when her will is contested.  Not that I generally mind being manipulated by a small bundle of cunning, it's just so hard to deny her when she turns on the charm.

The entire time I was shooting, she shyly shuffled around with an occasional giggle bubbling past her lips.  Multiple times she would reach forward with her sticky fingers to fondle my lens, leading to some blurry "come hither"-esque photos and me neurotically dodging to avoid fingerprints smears.

As her mother was preparing their family dinner, I sat in the living room with Heidi to watch her favourite movie, Rio.  I'm a sucker for children's films and had yet to see it, so I was just as engrossed with the story as she was.  Luckily, I decided to pester her a little more with the camera and captured a sequence of emotion that only little kids seem to manage.  The film had reached a point of conflict in the plot, causing Heidi to go from blissful mumbling of song syllables she's retained on to fear, sadness, anger, surprise, happiness, then intent focus in the span of a few minutes.

That unguarded reaction and expression is something we eventually grow out of as adults, so it is refreshing when you get to see a child show their exact feelings so plainly.  It doesn't hurt to be damn cute while doing it, either.

Her favourite part was to look at the pictures of herself on the small display screen on the camera.  After a few minutes of posing for the camera, she would exclaim "baby?!" and clamour into my lap before any rebuttal could be issued to flip through the recent shots.  It was so much fun hanging out with my friend and her daughter, I can't wait to invade their home again soon.

Jou, 216 (Black History Month)

Central Piedmont Community College reconnected students with local history with a presentation and discussion of “February One”, a documentary on the 1960 Greensboro sit-ins, in celebration of Black History Month at Central Campus.

Amanda Capobianchi, the associate dean for Student Life, said about 55 people attended the film. A short discussion followed the film to engage students. Many students expressed their thoughts on the film as well as comments on the civil rights movement as a whole.

“A simple act can help change the world,” said Jennifer Conway, Student Life program coordinator at Central Campus.

Chan Lee, a public speaking student, attended the film on recommendation of his teacher. “It was good to learn about history, what they endured.” said Lee.

“Martin Luther King, Jr had the right idea where everyone was to be equal as humans,” said local Charlotte resident Peter Franz. Franz compared civil rights initiatives he experienced while living in both Chicago and and Charlotte throughout the 1960s, with an appreciation for the non-violent protests utilized in the South.

The film hits close to home for the Queen City, documenting the Greensboro sit-ins which influenced students throughout the South to take a peaceful stand for civil rights, including a group in Charlotte. An anonymous source in the film described the event, “That dime store was the birthplace of a whirlwind.”

Central Campus will also feature former CPCC president Ruth Shaw speaking on women's history and Corlis Hayes, communication instructor, performing a one person act related to the time period.

Jou, 216 (Blog Entry 2 - A Little Flamboyant Heart and Soul)

I'm not a big fan of Valentine's Day. I view it as a very fake and forced holiday, even when I have a significant other to share the time with.

Luckily, a good friend of mine had invited me to see the play "The Most Fabulous Story Ever Told" at the Duke Energy Theatre.  A mutual friend of ours is the stage manager for the show and asked us both to attend.

We decided to try a soul food restaurant near the theatre before the show, Mert's Heart and Soul Food. It was one of the best impromptu food choices ever made in the history of mankind.

The decor was eclectic and inspiring, the walls adorned with personal photographs of the owner and famous African-American figures of the South.

A chalkboard hangs above the open view kitchen featuring the original menu from the restaurant opening 13 years ago and random sculptures made from discarded items were stations around the cozy space, keeping a mix of old with the new in theme.

Our waitress was fabulous, a true southern lady calling us honey while she offered sweet tea as the first and foremost option for liquid refreshment.  No matter how long I've lived in the South, the odd obsession with tea sweet enough to make your cheeks pucker will forever amuse me.

 With the chill outside, I opted for some homemade chicken noodle soup and a piece of buttermilk fried chicken.  My friend, a born and bred Southerner, went for a more traditional collections of sides of macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and sweet yams.

Each order comes with a small loaf of cornbread, possibly the most delicious cornbread in the world.  I felt like my mouth was going to die from happiness, the moist and semi-sweet nugget of baked magic.  I'd honestly never been a fan of the stuff, but this restaurant introduced me to the perfect version that alone will bring me back with drool on my chin in anticipation. Yes, it was so good I am devoting an entire paragraph to its majesty.

To round off our meal celebrating old fashioned home cooking of the South, after asking the waitress for her personal suggestions, we ordered some banana pudding for dessert.

This was another one of the best life decisions we've made as a collective throughout our friendship.  Two in one night, we were obviously on a roll.

Enough whipped cream to last the entire dish.  Freshly made, I'd only ever experienced the kind that's been loitering in a pan at some cheap buffet before.

And, I don't know, I'm just a big fan of both bananas and pudding.  So, maybe I was a tad biased.  Which ever you wish to accredit my praises to, I definitely recommend this treat.

We were reluctant to leave, but we had to rush off to catch our show.  I plan on repeating my attendance, not only for the tantalising cornbread, but also to dive deep into some of the local food culture I've never had the chance to become acquainted with despite my years of residing below the Mason-Dixie line.

Valentine's Day Cakes

I baked up a storm for my Public Speaking class tomorrow. I'm doing a demonstrative speech on how to ice a cake. Lazytown references are the bulk of my intro, but I really wanted to make a cake dedicated to the cute rally point style some faux Canadian kid made up. 

It's pretty poorly executed, but I was in a rush to vacate the kitchen before dinner after baking 4 cakes and 24 cupcakes all day. >_<;;

Jou, 216 (Blog Entry 1 - Snug Harbor, 1.28)

 We must write a blog for my journalism class. This is my first post.

I've always been rather lazy when it comes to exploring the city, no matter which city I am in.  Once I am home, I want to just cuddle up in front of my computer and whittle away at the hours until my body demands I rest for another day.  For this blog, I am going to attempt to push myself outside my comfort zone to experience a little more of what life has to offer at nominal cost.

Charlotte nightlife can be a very interesting animal to encounter.  One of my first meanderings brought me to the Snug Harbour, a local alternative bar in Charlotte's "hipster" area off Central Avenue near Midwood Plaza.  I had been there once before, wanting to force myself to socialise a bit on a demure Sunday night.

This evening was a Thursday.  Shiprocked Thursday, to be specific.  On this night, they have a special show for the alternative community which is a mash-up of Drag Queens and Burlesque.  I had an inkling of the presentation from the onset, some friends recommended the novelty and requested my humble presence.  It was definitely an experience which left an impression.

The small bar was packed, one of those standing room only situations where you appreciate the added body warmth but would rather not be in close proximity with the bulk of your available compatriots.  It's a popular night, for along with the show there are drink specials to tempt the wicked to attend.

My friends were getting crunk, as the kids would call it, while I claimed the role of designated driver with gusto.  As the night progressed, I crept around with my camera to entertain myself.  To avoid getting a fist implant, I kept my reticule primarily on inanimate objects.  The night progressed smoothly, saw old friends and made new ones.  Good times were had, along with giggles and some wriggles on the dance floor.

Midnight hit, and the real ball began.  The music was throbbing, people were gathering close to the dinky wooden stage in one corner of the room.  The closeness brought an emphasis on the beat as dollar bills began to fly on stage for the gogo dancers gyrating to the sound.  Soon the DJ brought down the music as the girls shuffled off-stage to announce the treat for the night.  A local Drag queen, Bethann Phetamine, was soon to mount the stage.

Her entrance was dramatic.  

Her make up, elaborate.  

Her clothes ... Not so existent. 

The show was definitely entertaining, to say the least.  The crowd ate up everything she had to offer, and were voracious for more.  It was hard to tear your eyes away, even if it were merely from morbid curiosity.

She mouthed along with the lyrics while fluttering about the stage with an erratic fluidity which is difficult to capture on film or in words.  The show ended with a dramatic flourish of her arm as the mass of bodies pushed forward in excited reception.


To say it was a one of a kind experience would be overtly poetic, but for my first experience of that lifestyle, it will definitely be one difficult to forget.