Blood Clock

Because it’s Halloween
the time when all cre.atures feed and unleash their inner craziness.
Here is a poem fit for a monster.

BLOOD CLOCK
from the collection of poems Correspondences of The Lovelorn Traveller
by Daniella Ponticelli

Mr. Chad Rutter
has an untold secret.
Despite what you think
it’s my duty to share it.
He sleeps all day
on a comfy pillow of rock
and awakens in black
with small numbers on the clock.
Hollowed halls dark,
experts say “gloomy” too.
The object cause of Chad’s desire
is some red thicky goo.
Branches snap/ split trees
he serenades for feminine lust.
Yet with the touch of breaking
sunlight, his pale skin is dust.
Kaleidoscope coloured eyes
as he paces through the night,
trying to find a meal
fit for monstrous delight.
One night he found
a beauty most rare.
Hair down to moccasins,
her black eyes caught his stare.
They stood still
and held back the urge
to run toward each other,
their minds left to purge.
Tonight was it
the last time they’d meet.
Her incense infused flesh,
his favourite treat.
She stripped her clothes,
toward him she strode
suppressing infatuation
her heart might implode.
His chest did not heave
for a heart he had none,
no blood in his veins
missing like the sun.
Palm to palm clasped
as he slowly took a bite.
Fangs inducing pleasure,
Half moon scar at the sight.
Once the red poison
slid down his cold throat
he wanted to be with her,
a bride he could gloat.
But she was on her way,
this, their last time.
Body language swaying
deceptively like mime.
He followed her that night
and waited in the trees
wanting her to go with him,
live in midnight breeze.
But a man she ran to,
a man of Eve and day.
One she could turn to
anytime and say
“Come walk with me,
take me somewhere new”
the only place Chad went
ended at dawn and dew.
If breath tinged nostrils,
a tear would be shed.
Instead all he mustered
was a wrinkled forehead.
He returned before rooster
to his pillow of rock.
Covered his tracks
and broke the clock.
He’d awaken when he wanted
to indulge his appetite.
Travel by tree branch,
for another half-moon sized bite.

*

Wolfe in Sheep’s Clothing

So You Think You Can Dance Canada’s Jera Wolfe talks about what makes him hungry for dance, and what feeds his creativity.

It was supposed to be a typical Thursday night ballet class. Black tights and a body suit, cream canvas ballet slippers on my feet. Fourteen girls giggling and catching up, silencing when we realise our regular teacher, a beautiful ballerina, has been replaced with an equally handsome counterpart – So You Think You Can Dance Canada contestant, Jera Wolfe. He smiled and waved the class in, starting with some contemporary choreography and then a hip hop piece. Wolfe is a dancer’s envy – he is trained in ballet yet can breakdance with the best of them. He is humorous and kind, even when our group spends twenty minutes perfecting two eight counts.

Wolfe was born in Toronto, Ontario, grew up in Inverness, Nova Scotia, and trained with the Royal Winnipeg Ballet. And did I mention he’s 19? He auditioned for SYTYCD Canada in Calgary and made it to the top 22. He finished in the top 18, and his pit stop in Winnipeg came just before the show’s finale.

We were fortunate enough to have Wolfe teach two amazing classes – with the tense painful gleuts to prove it. Before he headed to Toronto for the SYTYCD finale, I asked Wolfe if he wouldn’t mind talking about what makes him tick. This is what the young, talented, did I mention handsome?, dancer had to say.

What motivates you to continue dancing?

Dance is such a big part of my life. I first got inspired by breaking and then ended up taking hip hop, jazz, and ballet. The thing about dance is that you never stop learning. I have trained in ballet for 5 years now, but still have so much more to accomplish and gain in the discipline. I am so motivated to keep dancing because I am constantly changing and gaining experience as an artist.

When did you start choreographing and what is the creative process like for you?

I first started to explore choreography when I was competing in the Royal Winnipeg Ballet Schools First Steps Competition. It’s a student choreography competition that takes place at the school.

It’s really all about the music for me. I found a piece that inspired me and the movements that came along with it. I ended up getting a honours award.

What are some challenges you face when creating or performing a piece?

Creating a piece can be hard sometimes depending on who will be dancing it. If I create a piece for myself it will most likely be easy to make because I know my strengths and weaknesses best. If it’s for a group of dancers I don’t know well, that’s a different story. I usually end up changing it because I create a dance for myself rather than for the performers, this is a struggle I come across a lot.

Performing is what I live for. Sometimes it freaks me out, depending on the piece I’m doing or the crowd. Having to dance in front of 500 screaming girls and on national television was a little overwhelming at times.

What influences you creatively?

Music is so influential and important to me. I can get lost listening to music all day. Having such a diverse background in dance is nice too because I can find myself dancing in almost all my styles and to almost any song.

*

Freedom of Sight

For those of us in Canada, the case of Colonel Russell Williams is fresh in our minds as media outlets all across the nation have blasted the story. For my blog followers elsewhere, if you don’t know about the murder case, you will find out in the link.

I had been reading the morning and evening news on 92.9 Kick FM this week and as such, had to describe some of the case details for listeners. Dare I say that the audio rendition is far more disturbing than the visual. So when Margo Goodhand, the editor of The Winnipeg Free Press, came to speak honestly to Creative Communications students about being an editor, the topic of photo selection came up. Especially in regards to the “disturbing” picture of the colonel put on the front cover of the Free Press on October 19, 2010.

To see photos from the case, click here.

While Goodhand ended up apologizing to readers after many specified complaints came in, it was put to CreComm’s to write about whether it was right to have it available, or whether it was completely out of line.

I wrote on the former and it is printed in the Winnipeg Free Press On7, alone with writing by Emily Wessel and Allian MarinelliSee the full article here.

Freedom of Sight                                                                                          
By Daniella Ponticelli

    Colonel Russell Williams is not a sexy man. 
    Winnipeg Free Press readers were appalled to see an image, on the October 19 front page, of the disgraced former CFB Trenton commander in woman’s lingerie. Especially that of women he victimized.
    The case, in which Williams was convicted of two first-degree murders, two sexual assaults, and 82 break-ins, has been covered by local and national media outlets in every medium. Radio, television, and online news sources are laden with commentary from the Belleville, Ontario courtroom. Social media, such as live tweeting with Twitter, was used inside the courtroom, allowing followers to instantly receive updates as the gruesome evidence was being presented. In an age of mobile information, easily Google-d news stories, and posted public evidence, contemporary newspapers must cater to a visually dependent society.
    One of the main reasons Williams was so easily convicted is the images he took masturbating in female underwear – often that of juveniles. Those pictures are in the public domain.
    He was cocky during the initial police interrogation, causing those in court to gasp at his calm and cool demeanour. Some 24 hour news stations replayed the police videos of a smiling Williams for hours.
    Photos of bras and panties Williams had hoarded from his fetish break-ins filled screens and newspaper pages.
    Some newspapers put in official courtroom drawings. The one of Williams face covered by juvenile underwear was incredibly disturbing due to its context. Also, in the corner of the drawing, is Williams upturned face, sneaking a view of his perverse photo gallery.
    These were the standard images; the ones overtly instilling disgust into the viewer. The Winnipeg Free Press chose to represent the story with a portrait of the man Williams had become. It displayed his character to the public in a way words could not describe, a way in which the public could be left to form its own judgement of the disgraced Canadian Forces commander.
    It was, rather simply, a man in woman’s underwear staring out of the frame. And no, it is not supposed to be a comfortable view.  
    But there were no genitalia, no exploitation, no one underage – the adult man did this to himself. He hurt many people and while some news outlets focused on haunting images of his beautiful murdered victims, Jessica Lloyd and Marie-France Comeau, the Free Press used the murderer’s own photography to encapsulate a national news story. It was how he wanted to be seen, in private – a right that the court in Belleville dismissed with a life sentence of 25 years without the possibility of parole.
   
  *

Smart had One Idea. And That Idea was Stupid

Brilliant ad campaign from Anomoly, presented by Amie Seier in ad class —

BE STUPID DIESAL JEANS

Defines Stupid the way I see it – and the way Cre.ature Feed would like to promote it.

Here are some of the great STUPID lines.

Smart had One idea. And That idea was Stupid.

                Smart May Have the Brains. But Stupid has the Balls.

Smart Critiques. Stupid Creates.

                                                         We’re with Stupid.

Smart may have all the answers. But stupid has all the interesting questions.

 Smart has the Plans. Stupid has the Stories.

        Smart Listens to the Head. Stupid listens to the Heart.

                      Smart sees what there is. Stupid sees what there Could be.

If we didn’t have Stupid thoughts,
                                                      We’d have no interesting thoughts at all.

Only the Stupid can be Truly Brilliant.

 Don’t know about you, but I’m being Stupid tonight.

*

Facebook Me

“Justin Timberlake is in a movie about Facebook?

The universe had a discussion among its components and decided to grant me a wish. Sort of. I wasn’t sure, at first, if The Social Network was just some more publicity for the overwhelmingly influential, not to mention widely accessible and international, website www.facebook.com. But when director David Fincher, of Benjamin Button and Fight Club fame, decided to take on the project, I was excited to see where the story was headed.

Facebook co-founder and CEO, Mark Zuckerberg, is played by Jesse Eisenberg. I definitely entertained the thought of Eisenberg, playing the Zuckerberg character, shooting it up in Zombieland. I think Zuckerberg would have some ballsy one liners. The creator of Facebook is portrayed as someone who is aware of his genius, but also aware of his lack in social skills. The simplest way to sum up his characterization is this: Asshole. But as I watched, I never felt that the film was being overtly obnoxious in its portayal; it presented the story, with nuances of lost love, failed or non-existent friendships, and then the greed of having an idea turn into something big. 

If we put aside our own overly inflated sense of self-righteousness, perhaps we would have fallen into the same rabbit hole.

It was Zuckerberg through the eyes of others. It comes across negative because we don’t perceive his actions in th film to be morally aligned. But they are perfect examples of corporate alignment. This may be more an issue of what capitalism does to the human spirit, but we’ll save that for another day.

The point of negative light lies in Zuckerberg’s response to the film:

Make it seem like fun fiction
“It’s a movie; it’s fun… I can promise you, this is my life so I know it’s not that dramatic. The last six years have been a lot of coding and focus and hard work, but maybe it would be fun to remember it as partying and all this crazy drama.” (Zuckerberg on Opera Winfrey Show)

 Make it insignificant 
What’s 5 million movie viewers in a pool of 500 million?

Positive Feedback
Zuckerberg receiving messages from inspired would-be entrepreneurs. Don’t fool yourself, the man is the world’s youngest billionaire.

The kicker for me is the release about Zuckerberg donating $100 million to the Newark School system. While it is a wonderful gift, and one the system is in need of, the timing of the donation was matched with the release of The Social Network . The contribution was announced on Opera, during a much hyped release of the film Waiting for Superman; pointing out the need for a hero to help the  US public school systems.

What better way to neutralize the negative than turning into a superhero! Mr. Z Enters : Look at me! I can share too! I fight crime with dollars!

Let me tell you how I leap over tall buildings

This would have been a perfectly appropriate gift had it been done earlier, later,– anytime that doesn’t give off the public perception that it was a media stint to create a positive image. Was it necessary even? Zuckerberg probably thought so; he gives off the impression that he needed to downplay the film, that he needed to make it seem insignificant, that he was above such fictional nonsense —

wait, doesn’t that merely reinforce the movie’s characterization?

Audiences, and I am included, may have gone to the film without knowing anything about Zuckerberg but his standing amongst the world’s richest. We left knowing only one side of his story, but by reacting in this manner — which inevitably in the PR world becomes the second side — the public may not know what to believe when it comes to the complications of Mr. Z. I wish I had a solid answer as to what I would recommend in terms of handling the situation — how about start being a great, generous man before the making of the film?

Or what about giving the film its due in terms of how large and significant it really is in the modern world. If he’s going on Opera, be honest and humble; that doesn’t mean saying everything in the film is true, but give the public a second side that matches who you are.

If you are, indeed, different from your characterization. 

After the film, or rather as I was getting impatient like we do in the 21st century and rushing to get out the theatre doors, I was on my BlackBerry checking out some Facebook messages. I went home and scrolled through some of my South African relatives’ profiles to see how they are. The movie certainly moved me to respect the pure creative brain power it took to create a site bringing together the world. A few of my friends who saw the film felt as though Facebook had some real psychological validity to it, and don’t know how they will ever get off it. That’s the thing – how can the world even imagine itself without Facebook? The movie has undoubtedly promoted the international status of Facebook, it’s longterm staying power, and the fact that many more will continue to join.

That’s not Popularity, that’s Power.

*

Keep Your Pen Up

It’s work shopping time in Creative Writing for CreCommer’s first short story. It’s always an interesting experience, handing over words to be tasted, chewed, and sometimes digested. Other times, regurgitated.

It can dishearten any normal, heart beating, pulse pounding, and somewhat human writer; but CreComms are aware that failing is just one spell check away. The beauty of writing is that there is no failure, per se.

Just a ton of drafting and revision if you want success.

 So in honor of writers, artists, and overall cre.ators – keep your head up. I found a poem I wrote out of frustration after a few months of my work just being, well — torn apart. A lot of the language I used was from an example editing draft we got of our teacher’s work, overdone with errors to the exaggerate our faults. Needless to say, I’m definitely not as attached to first, second, fourth, and tenth drafts as I was a year ago when this one was penned. 

Cre.ature Tip: They’re just words. Cross them out if you don’t like them. Like the word Fungus. Doesn’t mean we don’t like you.

Disposable Copy
by Daniella Ponticelli

You just can’t read about
EXPLOSIONS!
forever, of course not.
You have other,
more important
things to do in life.

Like write. Let’s right that.

It’s a rare moment when words surprise you
DOPPELGANGER
that one took you by surprise.

Hollywood long laid claim
excitement-via-explosions!
But it’s a writer’s fear
rejection-via-silence.
The comments all too similar
“A strong beginning”–
It starts with an
EXPLOSION! of sorts. No ending, a limp finish spud.

No pop or sizzle
No left behind firecracker dust
Foolish powder
    is needed here.
Tolkien had the best luck.

The EXPLOSIONS will have to be
all in CAPS, just to show
to pointedly illustrate
When they happen, when least expected
of course they are.

[Insert EXPLOSION! here]

So far the author
offered a good deal of excitement.
What an indictment.
“Reader Disagreement” scribbled
In the margins.
Too much of a set up.
Too overt of a writer’s stumbling block. Of a writer grappling with the subject.
Too much too soon

KABOOM!

All hail thou Editor.
Apparently, upon mere happenstance,
another
EXPLOSION!

Paper scraps fluttering all around
words are so heavily loaded
although one never notices.
Hopes you exploded.

*

No Rest on the 7th

Hey all you creative monsters. Here’s an opportunity to write for the Winnipeg Free Press.

The Sunday edition, On7, has a feature called “Our Winnipeg.” The stories are personal and relate to a place in the city that means something to you. I sent in a story that is printed in this weekend’s On7, just in time for my best friend’s birthday!, and I encourage you to do the same. Winnipeg is a great city and it’s a chance to do some newspaper writing in a different way.

Do you have a special place in Winnipeg? E-mail your story: dave.connors@freepress.mb.ca

I would like to thank Katy Winterflood for taking the picture in such short notice — and in such cold wind.

WINNIPEG FREE PRESS ONLINE Edition

The Path
I hope it will always be there — no matter where life takes us

      E

ight years ago, I threw a massive tantrum. I wailed and screamed and cursed, all because I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to join the cookie cutter suburb with their perfect trees, newly cleaned cars, and freshly mowed lawns. It was pre-teen angst.
      We had moved from South Africa three years before and once more within Winnipeg. It was having to start over, and make new friends, that I wasn’t happy about. I thought I had found my niche, and now we were headed to Linden Woods. My tantrums had no effect.
     I started at Linden Meadows School, only knowing one other girl because she was also from South Africa. We weren’t easy friends, and I was scared I wouldn’t find a group in this exclusive area. But there was one thing that bonded us – or rather, one place.
    Just beside the school is a large grassy hill. As Manitobans know, this is an anomaly. Just on the other side, a vast manmade lake stretches across the landscape, with two towering water fountains on either end. A gorgeous path follows along the lake edge and brings together either side of Linden Woods.
    Every kid in school went through this park: on the way home, as a running club route, sprinting home before curfew, but most of all – as the hang out spot.
      My classmates and I would head through the park on our bikes and skip rocks under the small bridges. We would eat lunches while curled up, rather uncomfortably, in a tree. We’d feed the geese, and they’d chase after us. Girls would go there to talk about boys, and boys would go there to skateboard. First dates happened there. First break-ups too.
     By the end of my first school year, we were inseparable with the park. Since my fellow South African lived on the other side of the lake, we would always meet in the middle. This was our place in Winnipeg. After junior high ended, we spent the summer on our bikes riding through the park. In high school, we found any excuse to get together for a walk and an ice cap. It takes less than an hour to do the slow shuffle past the green trees and goose droppings, catching up on each other’s lives that never slow down.
   And now, as we are in different universities, we still walk from our respective places on the side of the lake. We try to meet up as much as we can before life gets too serious, before cities come between us, and before we move once more.

By Daniella Ponticelli

*

Welded Woman

 Winnipeg author reveals the secrets of finding characters, voice, and strength.

Before meeting Diane, I had never met a woman who was so — formidable. And who wore the badge proudly. Our first interaction was in an intimate woman’s writing workshop class, with only fifteen students. At first I didn’t know what to make of her, but it’s amazing how three weeks can change things.

I did not know that Diane Alexander had a rich Icelandic heritage. Or that she was a blacksmith by trade. Let alone a published author. There are so many nuances to her that often leave me wondering

 When can we get together for four hours and discuss the universe?

 She has been in the most emotional of circumstances and through such varying experiences, yet there is a relatable aspect to her personality — which also comes out through her writing. For the class, which focused on life writing, we delved into each other’s guarded personal memories; she left an impression on me, both as a woman and a writer. At the time, spring of 2009, Diane had published her first novel Secrets Found in Gimli.  She is working on both her second book, Balance Found in Gimli, and her third, Blood Ties,  in a series which “interweaves murder, spiritual growth and Seidhr Magik.”

Because I can’t resist her use of detailed words and phrases even in everyday speech, I decided to talk with Diane about what feeds her creative monster. And the words flowed magically.

What is the writing process like for you?

The writing process… sounds so formal, so elitist, so dedicated. My process is a revision of experiences, a personal overview which follows a quest. Something inside of me, drives me to create characters within a world who are connected by points of emotional reference. I feel a need, a push if you will, mentally to sit and listen to my characters stories. I plug in my headphones and start the music I’ve chosen for each novel. At first I’m scared as I think, “can I do this?” And then the words, those exquisite formations, leap out and on the page, creating a world of wonderment, of rich phrasing, elaborate plotting, and tears. After an evening of writing I’m filled with energy, excited, and dancing about the room. It’s when I’m not writing or creating a work of fiction that is the hardest.

You know I had to, what is your favourite and least favourite part?

My favourite part of writing would wind around the reading of what I’ve just written and the readings that accompany the end of the novel. Hands down, the least of my favourite parts is killing off a character. There is a chapter in Secrets Found In Gimli where I laid down after writing it and cried myself shaky. Writing the end is of course satisfying, traumatic, and a two wine bottle event. 

Who do you admire as a writer and what makes them intriguing?

Margaret Lawrence and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle are my favourite. Lawrence for her ability to convey the dominant discourse of the day as simply the cover for the rich underpinnings of chaos that lies within societal beliefs. Conan Doyle because of Sherlock Holmes: one of the most incredible alter ego’s of a writer ever imagined.

What influences your writing most?

Experience of Life. To me if you have to research every detail of a character, how can you convey the emotion of that character if you haven’t felt it yourself? 

What gets your creative juices flowing?

Giving Voice to those who have none. Then there’s the sheer fun of creating. Everyone creates but there is a difference in writers that stands out. Our pure bloody obsession to create the bond with readers who smile when we meet them, our base of inspiration truly comes from courage to communicate through our works that yes, we are old friends that haven’t or have met and this is a journey for two that we are on.

 That’s the magic, really.

*

Curb Appeal

Continued…

“Thanks, that makes this meeting entirely unnecessary.”

    “Okay Mariel, I’ll see you Friday.”
     When J&S wouldn’t change the scheduling, Natasha played along. No sense in begging to be overworked and underpaid.
     “Hey Tash, are you feeling okay? How are things now at home?”
      Natasha had let it slip to Mariel the day she arrived a surprising half hour late. Her father had accidentally tripped the power and that had defaulted her alarm clock. It wasn’t embarrassing to be living back at home, it was just alarming how much she had depended on Kirk – and the obnoxious nature of J&S booking solo ten-hour shifts.
    “For the last time, I’m doing fine. I even bought a gym membership to pass the days I’m not here.”
    “No I know. It’s just –”
    “I’m not sure you do. Everyone just thinks I’m this weak woman who has been given the once over by her boyfriend.”
    “Listen! I know, it’s just that –”
    “It’s been three months!”
    “Natasha just hold on a sec –”
    “I’m so tired of this shit.”
     Without hearing Mariel out, Natasha stormed through the office door. She will hear about it two days from now, her next shift. Mariel will say that even though she understands the frustration, she has to tell head office about the incident. Write up some fucking paper on how Natasha promises to behave better and sign it.
    When she spotted her car on St.Mary’s road, Natasha finally realised what Mariel was trying to tell her. To warn her. There, in all his rock star glory, stood Kirk Nyles. She had assumed that seeing him again would mean an Intense Emotional Reaction – to the point of physically harming someone. Instead, Natasha’s fist clenched but no hint of frustration betrayed her facial composure. Walking forward she hoped to avoid him but it was futile, the driver’s side was held hostage by passing traffic.
    “Hey, listen I – ”
     HONK
     The little yellow neon hooted in response to the lock button being crunched in her fist. Natasha stood still and smiled.
    “You know what I hate worse than an asshole who doesn’t pick up a phone?” she waited while Kirk stared back like a scared World Vision Child,“actually, nothing now that I think of it.”
    “Natasha I – ”
    “I’m sorry, did I say you could speak to me?”
     She tried to walk by and keep her head up but he shifted on the sidewalk to match strides.
    “Get the fuck away from me.”
    “Jesus Natasha, I’m not here to say sorry.”
    “Thanks, that makes this meeting entirely unnecessary.”
    “Actually, can we… there’s a Starbucks on the corner – ”
    “No.”
    “I have to tell you something, it’s not something for a phone ya know.”
    Natasha stopped and they ceased the mirror game. Kirk’s hands shifted in his pockets. Dear God he’s knocked someone up, Natasha thought.
   “Then let’s say it in the middle of the fucking sidewalk why don’t we?”
   “No, Tash… your car?”
    She had hoped to stay composed now that she had managed to avoid waterworks. Subtlety is a virtue, but only in the surveying world. He inched forward, pushing Natasha closer to the curb.
    “You might want to… uh, have you been – hmm, no way to put this lightly. I have, an issuedown there.”
    “What?”
      Natasha backed up further as Kirk shifted once more. Her flats slipped off the curb and then all was black.

    “Tash? Hey, we’re on our way to the hospital.”
     Kirk steered through traffic to the Misericordia hospital holding a rag to Natasha’s head.
   “Get out my fucking car!”
    She tried to lunge at him and felt a jolt of pain shoot down her back.
   “Stay still for a couple of minutes and don’t fall asleep.”
    Natasha’s eyes tried to focus and noticed the cracked passenger window.
   “Is that…hair?”

   When her eyes focused again, she was staring at the face of a middle-aged paramedic.
   “Jesus, knocks herself cold and then vomits on herself. Double whammy!”
    Natasha groaned and the paramedic smiled back through a matured mustache. What possible pleasure could this bring him, she wondered. Three hours and twelve stitches later, Natasha was finally willing to let Kirk drive her home. On the condition that he doesn’t mention whatever venereal diseases he sustained in the past three months.
   “But that’s the thing Tash, there is no way of knowing when I contracted the uh, you know.”
  “What are you saying? I know I don’t have that, you’re the only one I’ve ever – ”
     Natasha froze while the car fan made bits of tangled hair dance around her. “You son of a bitch.”
     Up to that point, she believed that even though he left her, he never cheated. He was always there, they lived together, and most of the time they were both too tired for sex so they cuddled. Shared a bed every night. Almost every night.
    “Get out.”
    “We’re five minutes away.”
    “I don’t care, park my car here. I’ll walk.”
     Kirk didn’t ease off the gas, so Natasha dug her nails into his right arm.
   “Okay damn it!”
     He parked outside a Seven Eleven. And while Kirk went west to find a bus shelter, Natasha bought a pint of frozen ice cream. And a lottery ticket.



Seven Days

“What would you recommend for her, we’re looking to lose two pounds.”

My mother took me to GNC. We walked into the supplement store and there was, as always, a handsome burly man behind the counter. He flashed us a killer smile, really working for his commission, and then the line was dropped. I was fifteen, and unaware that we were looking to lose anything.

“Honestly, for her, I wouldn’t recommend anything.”

Boy, do we never hear that enough.

For an advertising project, my group researched the whole mystique surrounding detox and cleanse products and programs.

There is no real difference between a detox and a cleanse and most are marketed for those starting weight loss programs in order to flush out toxins. I was told, by a trained Vita Health employee, that the more toxins one is exposed to, the more fat the body stores in order to “house” the toxins. A purification of the body should be done about six times a year. I had done two gentle detoxes before undertaking the research, so I panicked.

I’m going to be a whale if I don’t get on these fat loving toxins.

So I did a popular starting detox, ReCleanse herbal detox , that is only seven days and not too rough on the meal plan. It encourages you to cut out caffeine and not eat past 7:00 pm. Try it – so hard when you  only arrive home around 6:30. I did, however, utilize my maximum one cup of caffeine because everyone knows, you can really only make it to Tuesday on optimism.

I drank three bottles (250 ml) in both the morning and evening, taking a total of eight pills in a day to cleanse my colon and other such organs. I broke out mildly – okay, just one little bugger – and lost three pounds. Very exciting. Gained it back at the end of the following week.

Big Tip: the ReCleanse powder smoothie tastes how baby vomit feels.
Do not consume.

The fact is: detox is not a long term solution. The doctor’s opinion on the matter is that any additional help to ‘flush’ the body is unnecessary since our livers and kidneys do a marvellous job. I do believe they deserve a round of applause. The store clerk said, quite candidly, “most of it is just water weight.” Another important factor is that most rigorous detoxes do require a stricter meal plan and adjustments to exercise – something you can do to alter weight loss without ingesting expensive pills.

If you consider programs such as U Weight Loss, read through website and articles. Find out who is informing the public i.e. actual MD’s or registered dietitians. Take a look at this:

“Detox is a ploy to get people in the door. Detox does nothing to help weight loss but it is the meal plans that make people lose weight in an unhealthy way. U Weight Loss uses nutrition, supplements, and words like ‘registered nutritional consultant’ as a disguise for an unhealthy way to lose weight. There is no proof that detoxes specifically help people lose weight.”

– Amie Seier, Buyer Beware RRC.

Our conclusions:

  • Do they work?   Yes, but the effect is either short-term, or not exclusive to detox.
  • Are they safe?   When used in moderation, and properly.
  • Are they necessary?   Absolutely not.
  • Is the weight loss long-term or short-term?   Strongly dependant on the detox diet.
  • Are they worth it?   No, no, NO!

If you are serious about losing weight and keeping your body toxin free, consider alternatives such as a greens filled diet that helps balance the body’s natural PH levels. Or just sit back and listen to how amazing you are.

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: