The Decade: A New Best Friend

Deborah Clague November 29, 2019

There’s excitement when moving to a city you’ve never visited before. It could be an opportune time to reinvent yourself. To form new hobbies and embark on relationships that are misguided but ultimately shamelessly fun. If I’m being honest though, I settled rather quickly into my comfortable ways again. I’m an introverted homebody and those just aren’t traits conducive to being the life of the party. And no one talks about it much, but forming adult bonds and friendships is a rather difficult thing to do. As you get older, most people have their social groups established. Life can get especially lonely when starting over from scratch.

Within two weeks of my move, I made a new best friend though. A little guy that has brought me such happiness and unconditional love that I can literally feel my heart swell with emotion when I think of him. The “guy” I’m talking about is my wee Monty, a mixed breed with the sweetest personality. He is twenty pounds of both teddy bear and sentry. Adopting a dog forced me to explore my new city and focus on something other than my own isolated milieu. One of my most cherished memories were the first three nights he spent adapting to life in my apartment.

Night one: I placed Monty in his kennel in the living room in order to get him accustomed to my absence. All night he cried. I broke resolve rather quickly and brought him into my bedroom.

Night two: I placed Monty’s pet bed on the floor next to my own with the hopes that he would easily drift into slumber knowing I was in the same room as him. This didn’t work either as he kept attempting to jump up onto my bed. He didn’t cry—and he didn’t bark— but the sound of this struggle broke my resolve.

Night three: Monty had established his place of sleeping on the bed with me, eventually taking over the dead-centre of the mattress so that I could barely move. I didn’t mind at all. Like I said, he’s my teddy bear. For all that his presence has enriched my life, he can live like a king.

The first glimpse I ever saw of Monty. This was the photo used in his adoption listing (2010).

The Decade: A New Home

Deborah Clague November 26, 2019

As the decade nears its end, I wanted to vignette some of the moments that most touched my life:

It was February of 2010 and we were driving down the Trans-Canada Highway with as much of my stuff as could fit in the back of a Nissan. My father was behind the wheel, navigating the sheen of black ice while attempting to give me a pep talk that would last nearly the entire duration of my one-way trip. For I was leaving my hometown, my family and friends, and everything I knew up until that point to start a new life in a city I had never even visited before.

From 2004 to 2009, I worked from home operating a small creative consultancy business that partnered with marketing firms on a variety of projects big and small. In October of that final year, a downturn in the economy resulted in the loss of two of my biggest clients. Fraught with anxiety over my future in the field—not to mention the more tangible, immediate stress of how I would pay my bills—I made the decision to re-enter the job market. As I am wont to do, I also made the decision to make other sweeping changes in my life including applying for positions in different cities. The start of a new decade felt like a perfect opportunity to also start a new chapter in my life. And so it was written.

In January of 2010, I boarded a flight for an interview.

Within a few weeks, I got the job.

It happened incredibly quickly and while my initial ambitions achieved exactly what I had hoped, the palpable sense of loss I felt as the light pollution of Winnipeg faded further from view overwhelmed me. I cried so much we had to stop and stay overnight at The Twilight Motel in Moosomin, delaying arrival in my new home by a day. While some may have perceived it as cold, my father’s rational, direct way of supporting me helped open my eyes to the possibilities that laid ahead. At that time, he never openly cried. Even though I knew he would miss me (and worry about me), he only focused on what was best for my personal growth.

The past, predictable and safe, could always be resurrected if I made the choice. My childhood bedroom was available, even if the stuffed animals that once shared it with me no longer existed. I would just have to call.

The future though, open and exciting with so much potential, was what he encouraged.

Reflecting on the past decade and all the memories I’ve cultivated, I made the right choice.

Voodoo

Deborah Clague November 11, 2019

For the second time, a snake came between my partner and I.

Literally.

Years ago we were on a romantic walk comparing the contrast in our upbringing when I boasted about being a “tough girl from Winnipeg”. With no word of a lie, right after the words fell from my mouth a snake came jutting out of the grass as if on cue and made me squeal like a frightened mouse. It was only a garter snake but my cover of toughness was foiled. My partner laughs about it to this day (it was beautifully set up by an malevolent God). On this occasion, while arguing over whether or not I was wearing appropriate shoes for a hike (I had on sandals as part of the Pacific Coast Trail would cover a beach and I didn’t want sand in my sneakers), my partner expressed that we couldn’t be certain which species of animals were native to the region including, perhaps, poisonous snakes which my feet were fully exposed to.

Again—no word of a lie—cue a snake slithering through the four (or so) feet of space between my partner and I.

What was originally supposed to be a relaxing hike with the ocean and all its majesty at my side ended with me screaming and sprinting back to the car as fast as I could.

For the record, this also ended up being a garter snake.

In Crescent City, CA, I got to see some less scary wildlife including several injured walruses being treated at a marine animal rehabilitation centre, and one curious sea lion swimming around the marina in search of fish. We later hit the 101 and began driving back north up the Oregon Coast to our next destination, Lincoln City.

Highway 101, also known as the Pacific Coast Highway, is one of the most scenic drives on the planet. It is a near constant vista of sand and surf for thousands of miles. I really wish I had a dash cam for this road trip to relive parts of it. What really amazed me was that there was hardly anyone on it. We were traveling during peak tourist season and for great stretches seemed to be the only two people in the universe. Oregon has always been like that though; even while traveling as a kid, I recall the beaches being mostly desolate. The temperature, while inviting for a Canadian, seemed to scare off most locals who appreciated it from a distance. These reasons contribute to the fact that I truly feel Oregon is the most underrated place in the United States. It’s all yours.

In Lincoln City, we stayed at a rented beach house. I tried not to get too comfortable as the lifestyle is beyond my means for anything longer than a few days. But should I ever land that long dreamed of lottery win, a home within earshot of the sound of waves lapping on a shore is at the top of my list. I had a lot of time to contemplate this as the weather was raining for most of our stay. I also thought about my father. This was one of HIS favourite spots as well. It feels like just yesterday we were here climbing the rocks with my childhood dog, Pepper, counting starfish, and marvelling at the giant kelp washed ashore each morning. Oh, how full of wonder the sea was and still is. But these memories are from long ago. Of a time that could never be replicated. So I store them in a heart-shaped box and aim to make new ones.

While finally turning round to head home, a stop at the legendary Voodoo Doughnut was a must. There are several locations within Portland, OR. The one I visited appeared to be an old casual sit-down restaurant that had it’s prime in the eighties (it specifically conjured memories of Bonanza Steakhouse for me, a long-gone staple of middle class Canadian dining). They outfitted the establishment to modern instagram-worthy tastes, including an exterior selfie wall and area for branded merchandise. I was not there for a t-shirt though, I wanted a doughnut (maybe two). The selection at Voodoo is legendary—I think they are the only place to have a doughnut shaped like a penis as part of their daily offerings—and at first I was overwhelmed with what to choose. I eventually settled on my favourites: one maple dip and one “voodoo doll” (which was a raspberry jam stuffed chocolate dip). After brief small talk with my server, I departed and went to my car to enjoy.

I bit that chocolate bastard’s head off in one bite.

It was a fitting conclusion to a “tough Winnipeg girl’s” summer of doughnuts.

Pier at Crescent City, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

View from living room of beach house rental, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

View from beach house rental, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Empty beach, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Flora and fauna, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Starfish, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Sand art, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Our rental beach house, Lincoln City, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

A rainy day excursion to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, Tillamook, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Voodoo Doughnut, Portland, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

One of the greatest hiking spots in North America, the Redwood Forest of Northern California.

Krispy Kreme

Deborah Clague October 18, 2019

Driving the route from Montana to Northern California, I was met with heavy nostalgia for my childhood and the numerous summer road trips my family would take down these same highways in conquest of the beauty and adventure awaiting on the Pacific Coast. It was interesting to note which things changed and which stayed the same. For example, there was a roadside rest stop in Washington State where I vividly recall feeding seagulls as a kid—at the time they hovered near my face as I threw them McDonalds french fries—and sure enough their descendants were still there begging for scraps. I felt bad that I may have played a role in their inherited junk food addiction.

One thing that did evolve from the past was the method with which we navigated. My partner brought his Garmin and it made getting to our destination pretty brainless. Even driving through the freeways of Portland was a breeze as it guided me into the exact lanes I needed to be in at all times. It made me respect my father and his own inherent skill in this area. Yes, maps existed (and I’m sure my mother was a great help in deciphering them) but I can’t imagine trekking through a place I didn’t know, with a kid and a dog and a small trailer (not to mention the freakin’ SIZE of vehicles from the past - we drove a wood-panelled station wagon the size of a boat) and not being stressed out at where the next gas station, washroom or hotel with vacancy might be. I feel I’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in an unconnected world.

In Kennewick, Washington, I had the next donut in my summer of donuts. Near our hotel was a Krispy Kreme and I had to make a pilgrimage. I’ve had them before but never, ever a hot, fresh glazed straight out of the oven. When the employee asked me what I wanted, I made mention of this and he was flabbergasted. How was it possible that someone has never tried their original classic? It was, after all, quite famous. I explained how I was from Canada and we didn’t even have Krispy Kreme up there. He took pity and gave me free donuts which were delicious. It was unexpected and the employee’s friendliness was a highlight of my trip.

Within a few days, we made it to the hilly southern region of Oregon where we stayed at another KOA in a town called Grant’s Pass. Our cabin overlooked “Jumpoff Joe Creek”, a watering hole that was at the bottom of a small waterfall. It was July 4 but the campground was surprisingly still and quiet - there was a fireworks ban and most families present celebrated America’s independence with a simple flickering campfire and the soothing soundtrack of nature. We made barbecued cajun chicken with corn-on-the-cob and did same. The next day, we briefly visited a Wal-Mart in Grant’s Pass where we discovered that Oregon is an open carry state; my partner was shocked at a father walking around the grocery aisles with his kids while a gun rested in a holster around his waist. I warned him not to stare … and that we should shop at Target in the future.

The majestic Redwood Forest of Northern California was one of our major destinations during this road trip. It did not disappoint. I didn’t fully appreciate it when I was a kid but this time around, as an adult who has travelled and seen some of the best of the world, I will state that it is one of the most magical places on earth. We spent days hiking through its trails, in the shadow of giants thousands of years old. The silence was something I noted in particular; we were so deep within nature that any noise pollution of modern life was completely non-existent. No whir of the highway. Not even a faint text notification reaching a fellow hiker’s phone. The aural were birds and the pounding of our feet on the dirt trail. I was sad to leave.

KOA, Grant’s Pass, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Waterfall view from cabin at KOA, Grant’s Pass, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Kiss the cook, Grant’s Pass, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Applegate Valley Winery, Grant’s Pass, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

In-and-Out Burger, the most overrated place I’ve ever eaten at. Grant’s Pass, Oregon (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Hiking through the Redwood Forest, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Names carved in a fallen tree, Redwood Forest, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Write your own caption here, Redwood Forest, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

The only wildlife I saw - a slug, Redwood Forest, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

A very narrow, winding road through the, Redwood Forest, California. Only one car could pass at a time. There were regular pull-outs (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

“That’s a very big tree”, Redwood Forest, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

The famous tour-thru tree in Klamath, California (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

My car just fit through (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Book Recommendations

Deborah Clague October 11, 2019

Bad Blood: Secrets and Lies in a Silicon Valley Startup
Written by John Carreyrou

An HBO documentary on Theranos, a company that promised leading-edge technology for the health care industry, raising billions in funding before being exposed as completely fraudulent, piqued my interest in learning more about how a scam of this magnitude could unfold. Bad Blood does a great job of that, delving deep into founder and CEO Elizabeth Holmes’ history and psyche and includes numerous first-hand accounts from insiders who tried to raise alarms but were ignored or silenced by means of threats and intimidation. The story is truly a wild ride, parts of which feel like scenes cut from an action movie starring Tom Cruise (coincidentally, a movie is in development). Highly recommended. I couldn’t put this book down.

Favourite line: “It was all beginning to make sense: Holmes and her company had overpromised and then cut corners when they couldn’t deliver. It was one thing to do that with software or a smartphone app, but doing it with a medical product that people relied on to make important health decisions was unconscionable.”

How To Be Alone: If You Want To, and Even If You Don’t
Written by Lane Moore

I know what it’s like to be alone having spent the majority of my life in the realm of it. I am an only child and quickly learned how to entertain myself with stuffed animals and pets rather than siblings. I’ve always preferred a small, close group of good friends rather than being an acquaintance to many. And at one point, I left a life behind to start fresh in a city I hadn’t even visited prior. At times, I’ve felt the this solo strength veer into loneliness and that is what this book journals in a series of mini essays; the realities of navigating an increasingly connected world you don’t always feel you have a place in, by choice or circumstance. It is, perhaps, my most dog-eared book of the year, every chapter containing writing (and emotion) that is way too relatable. Lane Moore is a gifted writer and I highly recommended this book.

Favourite line: “I will never understand how, just as quickly and intensely as she entered, she could and would exit my life as though she’d never said a word to me. Never felt anything for me or because of me. And I’d just become a girl she knew once, kind of, from a distance.”

Bibliophile: An Illustrated Miscellany
Written and illustrated by Jane Mount

This illustrated book is for the true book lover - it offers groupings of books, authors, genres, even book stores and libraries that any true aficionado should check out.

Favourite line: there was a section that detailed pets who’ve provided inspiration to authors.

Weird Oregon
Written by Al Eufrasio and Jeff Davis

This is the second book in the “Weird” series that I’ve purchased (the other being ‘Weird Illinois’). It is a unique travel series that focuses on sights not covered by Lonely Planet such as local legends and fables, peculiar properties, the paranormal and other strange phenomena. Oregon likes to market it’s reputation for being a bit odd, even running a marketing campaign that begs to “keep Portland weird”, so I knew this would be a great read. Some of my favourite sections included an explanation on why there are so many Paul Bunyan statues, learning of a widow who created a self-cleaning house, and a concise history of the viral whale-exploding incident from 1970 that has taken a second-life on the internet.

Favourite line: During a recent road trip down the state’s I-84, I wondered about the dozens of “mounds” at an army base I passed. This book explained they—all 1,001 of them—once stored 12% of America’s chemical munitions, such as sarin and VX! I had passed the Umatilla Chemical Depot.

Pablo Escabar, My Father
Written by Juan Pablo Escobar

Narcos and now Narcos, Mexico are some of my “must watch” television. I ordered this book while invested in the first two seasons, hoping to learn more about Pablo Escobar from someone who had unfettered access—his son. I could only force myself through a few chapters though before needing to give up. This book is horrible.

Favourite line: none.

RGD Award of Distinction

Deborah Clague October 3, 2019

Honoured to be the recipient of an Award of Distinction at the RGD (Association of Registered Graphic Designers’) In-House Design Awards. “miyo wahkohtowin”, the Saskatchewan Polytechnic Indigenous Student Success Strategy, was one of sixteen recipients of the international design award. It is one of the most beautiful pieces in my design portfolio and was the first project I worked on in which I incorporated glow-in-the-dark ink, bringing the dreamcatcher on its cover to life.

The award will be presented at the upcoming DesignThinkers Conference. It will also be showcased at an exhibit in Toronto.

You can view the RGD’s 2019 Awards Annual here.

For more information, click here.

The amazing Oh Doughnuts, Winnipeg (©Deborh Clague, 2019)

A Summer of Donuts

Deborah Clague September 21, 2019

My summer of donuts started in earnest. A maple dip here. An apple fritter there. But then my travels took me to places with some famous gourmet shops—including the original, Voodoo Donuts in Portland, Oregon—and I decided to make an event of it. After all, I’m not a Kardashian and my common law doesn’t care if I occasionally test the stretchiness on the waist of my pants. While in Vancouver in May, Cartems (billed as the city’s best) was on the route to my conference every morning so I checked it out. Twice. It was definitely better than our nation’s standby, Tim Hortons, but nowhere near the best I’ve ever had. You may think my judgement is steeped in bias because it’s located in my hometown, but after this deep-fried odyssey I still feel that Oh Doughnuts in Winnipeg is by-far the best donut I’ve ever had (the lemon meringue is one of the best desserts, period). Recently, they released a savoury pickle donut with buttermilk ranch topping and I so can’t wait to try it.

After spending some time in the Peg this summer eating donuts, catching up with loved ones and reminiscing on a life once lived, my partner and I embarked on our annual summer road trip. This year, our adventure would take us down the scenic Pacific Coast Highway into northern California for some hiking amongst the largest trees in the world. The stress-free bliss I envisioned was tested a bit as we crossed the border into the United States—this always seems deliberately unwelcoming and almost hostile compared to entering by flight—but the scenic vistas of Montana quickly made up for it. This state is absolutely stunning … and sparse. As I noted during last year’s excursion, you really get to appreciate the landscape while you drive as there aren’t many other vehicles on the road, even during the height of travel season. I’m particularly fond of Helena which, at a population of just over 31,000, is one of the smallest state capitals I’ve visited.

We again stayed overnight at the Great Falls, MT, KOA picking up groceries at the nearby Walmart and making an evening of hotdogs, toasted marshmallows and “cheap but good and good but cheap” Manischewitz wine, which never seems to produce a hangover no matter the volume consumed. In between this roasting and toasting, I’d steal glances of the mountain range in the distance and try to catch the transition of light as the pastel tones of the dusk sky turned to amethyst then starry black. This is storied land; the archetype of the Wild West that still elicits dreams and inspiration. Once the great frontier that the Cree, Salish and Sioux called home, and that Lewis and Clarke later crossed in search of colonial discovery, the trails have since evolved from dirt paths to the interstate but Montana remains a nod to the past.

Pausing one’s world to do nothing but appreciate the clouds is highly recommended and a much greater use of time than allowing the false reality of scrolling through social media to make you feel bad about yourself. With all of its rustic charm and seeming aversion to following the herd, Montana is a great place for this type of introspection and respite from the modern world. Just take in the view and breathe.

Scenic vista near Helena, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Clouds cover the mountains in Montana (we’d soon be driving through them)(©Deborah Clague, 2019).

About to drive through a cloud. Once immersed, I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of my car (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Dusk approaches, Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Cabin 27F at the Great Falls Montana KOA is a highly recommended place to stay. Very private with an amazing view (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

The fire starter, Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Toasting marshmallows in Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Our equine neighbours in Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

“Roughing it” at the Great Falls KOA, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Pastel sunset, Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Late night walk, Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Visiting with our equine neighbours, Great Falls, Montana (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Your Occasional Monty

Deborah Clague September 17, 2019

Adventuring with my dog was one of the highlights of my summer. No, I didn’t use copy-paste in any of these images. He just knows his angles.

Monty at La Barriere Park, Manitoba (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Monty at the Trappist Monastery Ruins, Winnipeg (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Typographic Design

Deborah Clague September 9, 2019

After finishing a book on the collective works of William Shakespeare, I was inspired to design typographic treatments for some of his most iconic works (I originally sketched the Antony and Cleopatra idea back in college twenty years ago … I failed the assignment):

City of Glass

Deborah Clague August 30, 2019

Right after returning home from Paris, I had work-related travel in another one of my favourite cities – Vancouver. There are a few places I have visited in my life that have left an indelible mark on my being and this city of glass on the Pacific Northwest coast is one of them. I recall a visit with my father in my early twenties in which I cried on the journey home as I sooooooo wanted to stay there. Vancouver had a sheen that my hometown did not; it seemed so cosmopolitan. The type of place I imagined shit happened. The good shit. The type of place where one could leave a mark that would have impact. Perhaps that was the time to make the leap; Vancouver has only gotten more unaffordable in time. And the older I get, and the more my world shrinks, I realize that one can make an impact from anywhere. Even my hometown of Winnipeg. Even cities that are smaller (such as where I live now). I extended my deployment by a few days though to have time to explore and see if the magic was still there.

Sigh. It was.

But only with conditions.

These conditions include a downtown condo with wraparound windows and a view as good—or better—as the one I had from my hotel room on the twenty-first floor of the Four Seasons. As I worked at my desk, I would sneak glances at the people below, tiny as ants, scurrying down West Georgia and Howe picking up food at the trucks and stalls that lined the streets before they, too, returned to their offices and got down to whatever business runs this town. There was also the occasional car race, typically between two luxury sports vehicles painted in crass colours that only the very, very wealthy would purchase because they have money to waste and can be trendy rather than strategic with consumption. Think bright baby blue Lamborghinis and neon green Ferraris. The roaring of their engines woke me up during the night.

And right before the night was the greatest view of all, as dusk settled over the mountains and the water was highlighted by the setting sun. I’d retire to my room around this time to enjoy this sight with a cup of tea. But also, if I’m honest, for safety; I was, again, traveling alone and on one early night while approaching my hotel I was told by a man clearly struggling with drug addiction that he wanted to “smash my face” until my “face was smashed”. So another condition of living in Vancouver might have to be willful ignorance of the challenges it faces.

Beyond the view and despite my encounter, I appreciated downtown Vancouver because I could walk nearly everywhere (or get there relatively quickly via transit). One day I trekked to Granville Island and its famous market, later chancing upon a dog beach in Kitsilano that I need to take my Monty to someday. On my other free day I hiked all through Stanley Park, one of the most beautiful urban greenspaces in North America. All this walking then helped me justify eating at Cartems, thus launching my summer of donuts™ which has also been memorable. I’m not sure living in the ‘burbs, or further out in Burnaby or Abbotsford, would make the experience of living here as great as I experienced or imagine though. I feel that magic would get lost amidst the commute and rampant big box stores that seem to be cloned in every civic area. Therefore the greatest condition, it seems, to living here is a six-figure salary to afford my vision. Or a lottery win. I don’t need neon green Ferrari money but just enough to live an ordinary life in an extraordinary place.

Although, living an extraordinary life in an ordinary place now doesn’t seem so bad.

View from the 21st floor, Four Seasons Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Bees at Work, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

I love this city, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

The DOG BEACH, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Granville Island Public Market, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

I would really like to live in this building, so please donate to my GoFundMe, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Vancouver skyline (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Stanley Park, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).

Trekking under the Lion’s Gate Bridge, Stanley Park, Vancouver (©Deborah Clague, 2019).