Ziggy to my Bowie

You know what I mean. Maybe you don’t have a ukulele stashed in your room. Maybe you can’t rant about the underground music scene in Halifax. Maybe you’d never dream of auditioning for the King’s Theatrical Society.
You’re a King’s student, just not the over-the-top, in your face, outlandish, Maritime, happy-go-lucky, hipster, arts scene-loving type.
You decided you needed to get out of the quad, away from the mason jars, frumpy hats, togas, and your over-excitable, semi-sarcastic, vaguely pretentious friends living the contemplative life only to find that Halifax is just as steeped in artistic romance as your plaid-wearing, Birkenstock-loving roommate.
Take Nocturne as an example. If you questioned Halifax’s artistic capabilities before this week, you undoubtedly have come to realize that art is the Ziggy to Halifax’s Bowie—a little freaky and always just beneath the surface.
My advice to you is to accept Halifax for what it is: a city full of culture, creativity, and poetry. Take it one step at a time. Like the fifth stage of grief, it will all be okay if you just learn acceptance.
I have three roommates, as artsy as they come. One sings opera, one is an amateur actress, and one works as a Disney Princess at birthday parties. Our house is always full of clashing music styles.
Then again, the music makes our house just that much livelier, and I much prefer it over silence. If you sing along, you don’t notice the clash as much.
As a descendant of non-artsy, very rational parents, I understand that sometimes overt arts-based societies can require a certain cultural transition.
Maybe you have wondered why so many people ride vintage bikes. To you these bikes may seem like one-speed, brakeless, accidents waiting to happen, but to the person on it, it’s cute and it’s a thrill. Sometimes practicality takes a hit for the arts.
Remember to accept. Don’t fight it.
I am not suggesting that the city will suddenly reveal its artistic merit to you all at once. The noise of the Halifax transit system will not suddenly sound to you like music.
Let me simplify: if you want to learn what makes Halifax such an artsy place, there is no ancient Maritime secret. It’s plain as day.
You can see it in the Hare Krishnas, playing their drums and singing their holy mantra.
You can see it in the eyes of the woman in chalk, carefully redrawn every week in front of the Halifax Central Library.
You can hear it alive in the song of the girls busking at the market.
Somehow it’s there in the froth design the barista topped your latte with.
You feel it when the Wardroom is packed with dancing.
Art is inexplicable, insensible, and yes, wonderful.
Love it, embrace it, nurture it, and accept it. For goodness’s sake, try something new.
This is your city now, too.
Immerse yourself in the Ziggy.
What do you do when you can’t beat them? Join them.