Sunday, Midnight. Still slugging away at my Cinémas canadiens et québécois essay. My thesis?

"La presque totalité des personnages du cinéma québécois se définissent surtout par leur fatalisme, leur soumission, leur exploitation, leur défaitisme, leur immobilisme, leur aliénation… Les Antoine et Jos Poulin de Mon Oncle Antoine, les Clermont Boudreau et Richard Lavoie des Ordres, pour ne citer que deux des films les mieux connus, représentent les prototypes cinématographiques des Québécois..."

It's due tomorrow night and I still have a few hours of work to do, so if anyone has anything to add - or to completely submit in lieu of my own 15 pages - send your e-mail and attachment to the usual address please!

One nearly down, two to go. One essay and one final exam, that is. I am dreaming of December 23, when all will be over and behind me, and a week of lounging and eating good food will be the norm...

But I had two wonderful moments today. First and foremost, I met with Anne Barkley, the artist whom I bought a painting from for Manon. It is a stunning creation; I will try to take a photograph of it so that I can post it on the blog. Meeting Anne was, for lack of a more insightful expression, very touching. We have been communicating via e-mail to negotiate the transaction for over a month without ever meeting in person. Today, as I stood amidst the cold winter wind and thanked Anne for her work and her kindness, I felt moved to tears by the beautiful simplicity of the exchange. The exchange of money (not nearly as much as it should've cost me) for a gorgeous work of art, the exchange of a smile for a hug, the exchange of thanks for tears. I can't explain it. All of life's petty details seemed to pause for that perfect moment, a moment where art connected people, art affected people, art became all powerful. And Manon loves it! It will hang in her Ruby Room, which has been painted to a deep crimson red.

The second instance of beauty came about as I walked to Manon's apartment after hours of being cooped up at work this evening. I was walking by the University of Ottawa's main and oldest building, thinking that for once the little christmas lights that adorned neary trees rendered the area delightful instead of imposing and 'academic'. It was dark and I could hear the crunching of my steps against the snow. Then as if to perfect the moment, I looked ahead to see a small brown bunny sitting near one of the lighted trees, looking up at me. I stopped to whisper a quiet "allô, mon p'tit bonhomme!" and watched as it hopped away calmly into the bushes.

Where and in what state would I possibly be without these moments? C'est ces choses qui sauvent mon âme.

Bonne semaine à tous...