since i first started writing this thing, this blog, i've had many different people ask me the same question. the question ranged in tone from incredulous to dismissive to accusatory to awed, but it was always the same: "why do you write your blog!?"
why do i feel this compulsion to share my thoughts and feelings and stories with a faceless audience? why do i open myself up to criticism and judgment? and i have to tell ya, it's a valid question.
so why do i write this thing? i could answer with the haphazard way i stumbled into it...
i was writing a play in which a character wrote a blog. (given the huge disdain for blogs, the blog has been replaced with a zine, incidentally.) a desire to better understand this strange blog world was coupled with a new friend's invitation to visit his blog, so i decided to check it out. well at the time, in order to comment on his blog, i actually had to register with the blog site - a clever manoeuvre that had me setting up the full look and feel of my blog before i could proceed with my all-access pass to comment-land. so there i was, suddenly with somewhere to dump the mess of scribbles i was already engaged in anyway.
well ok sure, that could be an answer. but it would only explain how i started, not why i continue...
well, i'm a writer. i write a lot: i write down things i observe, i record funny or interesting snippets of conversation, and i write to sort through the jumble of thoughts that are attempting to help me figure something out. like my life...
when i first started "recording" these thoughts publicly, it didn't even occur to me that anyone but my fellow blog-friend would even look at my blog. and then eventually i started telling friends about it. and then i started giving the link to people i would meet and have interesting conversations with - so much less intrusive and actually so much more effective than exchanging e-dresses that nobody will ever use.
and then one day, a stranger commented. some person in the states that i had never nor would ever meet. then someone from montreal. then someone from texada island. then an old friend found me and we reconnected. and i realized that my life and thoughts and feelings were actually being read. meaning they were laid out there for anyone to see - kin or stranger, friend or foe.
and yet, i kept writing.
why??
why this desire (is it a need?) to spread my soul's legs for the whole world to stare at?
is it a low self-esteem? (perhaps)
is it a need for acceptance? (surely in some way, but ultimately i think not.)
am i just pathetic? i don't know... maybe i am. but if i am, i stand amongst an army of beautiful, pathetic soldiers who have felt an unstoppable compulsion to share their soul and experiences with the world. Vincent Van Gogh, William Blake, Charles Bukowski, Leonard Cohen, Jack Kerouac, Frida Kahlo, Beethoven, Sylvia Plath, Hank Williams Sr., and on and on and on. a legion of open souls. can we ever truly understand what inspires artists to bare their souls to the world? maybe not. but we can agree that it always makes us all that much richer.
and it's not just artists! most humans exist for contact. so that even a conversation over the water cooler about some reality tv show becomes an exclamation - a manifesto of self: THIS is who i am, THIS is how i think, THIS is why i feel! we are social beings, stretching our souls out always to connect, to relate to our fellow humans. to understand each other - and by necessary extension ourselves - a little better.
now i won't pretend that my blog ramblings are as inspired or amazing as the artists i referenced. i do have "some" grip on reality! but every so often, i'll get a comment from someone on the other side of the globe, or down the street, who can relate to what i've written, or who is moved to feel or think from what i've written. and in those beautiful, tiny, human moments, i (and hopefully my readers) can feel that much more connected to the community of souls that populates our globe.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
futility
i’ve seen some pollution in my day.
i’ve eaten Tokyo crackers, individually wrapped, then wrapped in bundles of 4s, then 8s, in 2 columns, in a double-wrapped container. i’ve seen mounds of litter cradling decaying street cats in Athens. i’ve swooned on the belched fumes of mile-long parades of punch-buggy taxis in Mexico City.
so as i sit here dilligently peeling away all the scotch tape applicants have slathered all over their envelopes (and as a side note: what, where they afraid the application would attempt a getaway? what is with the obsessive amount of tape? sometimes i wonder if they even want us to be able to open them…), as i sit here peeling away each strip of tape, tearing out each plastic business-envelope window, i can't help but wonder: what’s the fucking point!?
i’ve eaten Tokyo crackers, individually wrapped, then wrapped in bundles of 4s, then 8s, in 2 columns, in a double-wrapped container. i’ve seen mounds of litter cradling decaying street cats in Athens. i’ve swooned on the belched fumes of mile-long parades of punch-buggy taxis in Mexico City.
so as i sit here dilligently peeling away all the scotch tape applicants have slathered all over their envelopes (and as a side note: what, where they afraid the application would attempt a getaway? what is with the obsessive amount of tape? sometimes i wonder if they even want us to be able to open them…), as i sit here peeling away each strip of tape, tearing out each plastic business-envelope window, i can't help but wonder: what’s the fucking point!?
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
lovin the lovin
i love valentine's day. no - let me be precise: i love holidays. i love solstice/xmas/whatever, i love easter, i love halloween, i love st.patrick's day... i love 'em all!!
ok, i know some of you may want to argue:
that valentine's isn't a "holiday".
that valentine's is a corporate cash-grab, a joke played on stupid unsuspecting consumers by greedy hallmarkers.
that couples should love each other every day of the year.
first, let me respond to the last one: duh. no fucking kidding. so if that's the way you think, why celebrate your birthday while you're at it? i mean, shouldn't you be happy to be alive every day of the year? retarded, eh. well, that's how i feel about people who refuse to celebrate valentine's. ok, maybe you're single, or freshly dumped, or just in general cynical about love. in those cases, i sympathize, i mean look at my checkered love history - believe me, i can relate.
but for couples, refusing to celebrate valentine's is just stupid or lazy or both. i mean, what is so wrong with taking one evening to do nothing but celebrate your love? is it really so evil??? frankly, i think it's beautiful. and no, it doesn't mean you can't celebrate it any other time. it doesn't mean the dues have been paid for the year, and you can go along taking each other for granted and treating each other like shit. it just means you've taken this one night to do nothing but be in love.
well shit man, sign me up!
as for those of you who rage against the corporatization (is that a word? should be) of the holiday, ok - you're right. but just because the capitalists are cramming diamonds and chocolates and red roses down your throat, doesn't mean you have to buy it. literally and figuratively... don't want to support the hallmark-created holiday? make your own card. don't wanna be a cliche and buy roses? don't! it's only a corporate scam if you let it be. same with xmas or easter or mother's day or any of the holidays. (i'm reminded of that simpson's episode with that fake holiday, what was it? that was funny...)
i say this so often, i should probably have it tattooed on my ass: our culture is desperately lacking ritual. for that reason, i find myself looking for any opportunity to create ritual. and i find opportunities in holidays. these occasions ask us to take a step back and celebrate something. ponder it. appreciate it. these things are not only wonderful, they're really important.
ok sure, you don't have to do it on some day that some religious zealot picked hundreds of years ago, but why not? are you so rebellious that you have to fight every convention, whether or not there's a rational reason for it? i mean hey sure, whatever floats your boat. but most of the people who don't celebrate valentine's aren't picking alternative dates to commemorate the great gift of love. they probably don't like celebrating anniversaries either, and i think they're just being lazy.
so anyway, i've been savouring the love vibe, and so i proudly wore my red blazer yesterday, shouting out to the world: i love love!!! and you know what? i had the bestest valentine's ever!!! sure, we bought into some of the hooha: he bought me lingerie, and i spent all my allowance on ridiculously overpriced (but also ridiculously beautiful and ridiculously yummy) Godiva chocolates. and we went full-cheese with candles and wine and fancy dinner, ooh la la. but most importantly, we shared a beautiful night doing nothing but being together and being in love.
it was... well.. a lovely night. and i'll celebrate that any day!
ok, i know some of you may want to argue:
that valentine's isn't a "holiday".
that valentine's is a corporate cash-grab, a joke played on stupid unsuspecting consumers by greedy hallmarkers.
that couples should love each other every day of the year.
first, let me respond to the last one: duh. no fucking kidding. so if that's the way you think, why celebrate your birthday while you're at it? i mean, shouldn't you be happy to be alive every day of the year? retarded, eh. well, that's how i feel about people who refuse to celebrate valentine's. ok, maybe you're single, or freshly dumped, or just in general cynical about love. in those cases, i sympathize, i mean look at my checkered love history - believe me, i can relate.
but for couples, refusing to celebrate valentine's is just stupid or lazy or both. i mean, what is so wrong with taking one evening to do nothing but celebrate your love? is it really so evil??? frankly, i think it's beautiful. and no, it doesn't mean you can't celebrate it any other time. it doesn't mean the dues have been paid for the year, and you can go along taking each other for granted and treating each other like shit. it just means you've taken this one night to do nothing but be in love.
well shit man, sign me up!
as for those of you who rage against the corporatization (is that a word? should be) of the holiday, ok - you're right. but just because the capitalists are cramming diamonds and chocolates and red roses down your throat, doesn't mean you have to buy it. literally and figuratively... don't want to support the hallmark-created holiday? make your own card. don't wanna be a cliche and buy roses? don't! it's only a corporate scam if you let it be. same with xmas or easter or mother's day or any of the holidays. (i'm reminded of that simpson's episode with that fake holiday, what was it? that was funny...)
i say this so often, i should probably have it tattooed on my ass: our culture is desperately lacking ritual. for that reason, i find myself looking for any opportunity to create ritual. and i find opportunities in holidays. these occasions ask us to take a step back and celebrate something. ponder it. appreciate it. these things are not only wonderful, they're really important.
ok sure, you don't have to do it on some day that some religious zealot picked hundreds of years ago, but why not? are you so rebellious that you have to fight every convention, whether or not there's a rational reason for it? i mean hey sure, whatever floats your boat. but most of the people who don't celebrate valentine's aren't picking alternative dates to commemorate the great gift of love. they probably don't like celebrating anniversaries either, and i think they're just being lazy.
so anyway, i've been savouring the love vibe, and so i proudly wore my red blazer yesterday, shouting out to the world: i love love!!! and you know what? i had the bestest valentine's ever!!! sure, we bought into some of the hooha: he bought me lingerie, and i spent all my allowance on ridiculously overpriced (but also ridiculously beautiful and ridiculously yummy) Godiva chocolates. and we went full-cheese with candles and wine and fancy dinner, ooh la la. but most importantly, we shared a beautiful night doing nothing but being together and being in love.
it was... well.. a lovely night. and i'll celebrate that any day!
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
the "real kaen", part 2
in addition to my birthday, i've also tried changing my last name. although not "officially" or "legally" (yet?), i have come up with a far superior last name.
"but kaen, we love you the way you are!!"
yeah yeah yeah. but is it really me? gather 'round kiddies, let me tell you a strange and interesting story.
when i was still a fairly young thing, the government of Canada changed a pretty significant law. previously, when a First Nations (or what the government still likes to call "Indian") woman married a non-"Indian" man, she lost her "Indian" status. became white, i guess? which whatever eh - you are who you are, no matter what the government calls you.. sure. except we're talking about losing out on the "freebies" (as the idiots call them) - the repayments our government offers First Nations people in exchange for having robbed so much of their land, lives, history, culture and dignity. so when the law changed and those women could "regain" their status, it was kind of a big deal.
well my gramma (from the Ojibwe nation) married a whitey. when my dad discovered she was now, again, First Nations, he decided to look into what that meant for him and his children. he had no idea what he was getting into...
some things were not a surprise: his real father had died before he was born. (or so the story goes. fact is, my gramma never talked about him which breaks my heart in many ways.) some things were a bit shocking: his step-father had never legally adopted him. so when he ordered his birth certificate, he discovered that the step-father's last name, which donned all his ID, was not his real last name. his legal last name was actually his mother's maiden name. my dad actually had to legally change his name so that it matched all his ID and information.
so technically, my last name shouldn't have even been what it is. for that reason alone, i feel no particular connection to it. but even more significantly, it belongs to an EVIL, terrible, horrific, awful, ugly-souled, horrible man (this would be the step-father, in case i've lost you), whose legacy i don't want to carry or honour, and with whom i don't want to be connected in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.
hold on - it gets strange.
as it happens, we eventually discovered that this name that i bear isn't even my evil step-grandfather's. the story is muddled and unclear. what we do know is that at some point in his scarred and sketchy youth, he turned his back on "Robertson" (his real last name) and "borrowed" (stole?) his aunt's boyfriend's ID and assumed it and its name for the remainder of his life. was it to pass as old enough to work the railroads? was it to run from the law? the mind reels. i know i have a flair for the dramatic, but believe me when i say without exaggeration, this man was capable of despicable, disgusting, horrible things.
so then, other than that it's a neat little fucked-up story, what does my legal last name mean to me? it carries an evil and abusive history, perpetuating the chosen identity of someone history should be lucky enough to forget.
what i chose instead to do is ask a bunch of my closest friends to try to describe me in 5 words (preferably adjectives). i then collected the responses, found recurring themes, and in keeping with my french heritage, translated the words into french, morphed them all together, and came up with Valoise.
unlike the "new" birthday, which i've already grudgingly conceded, this new last name is something i refuse to give up. some day, i hope to legally change my last name. it is, i firmly believe, a better representation of "the real kaen."
"but kaen, we love you the way you are!!"
yeah yeah yeah. but is it really me? gather 'round kiddies, let me tell you a strange and interesting story.
when i was still a fairly young thing, the government of Canada changed a pretty significant law. previously, when a First Nations (or what the government still likes to call "Indian") woman married a non-"Indian" man, she lost her "Indian" status. became white, i guess? which whatever eh - you are who you are, no matter what the government calls you.. sure. except we're talking about losing out on the "freebies" (as the idiots call them) - the repayments our government offers First Nations people in exchange for having robbed so much of their land, lives, history, culture and dignity. so when the law changed and those women could "regain" their status, it was kind of a big deal.
well my gramma (from the Ojibwe nation) married a whitey. when my dad discovered she was now, again, First Nations, he decided to look into what that meant for him and his children. he had no idea what he was getting into...
some things were not a surprise: his real father had died before he was born. (or so the story goes. fact is, my gramma never talked about him which breaks my heart in many ways.) some things were a bit shocking: his step-father had never legally adopted him. so when he ordered his birth certificate, he discovered that the step-father's last name, which donned all his ID, was not his real last name. his legal last name was actually his mother's maiden name. my dad actually had to legally change his name so that it matched all his ID and information.
so technically, my last name shouldn't have even been what it is. for that reason alone, i feel no particular connection to it. but even more significantly, it belongs to an EVIL, terrible, horrific, awful, ugly-souled, horrible man (this would be the step-father, in case i've lost you), whose legacy i don't want to carry or honour, and with whom i don't want to be connected in any way, shape or form. AT ALL.
hold on - it gets strange.
as it happens, we eventually discovered that this name that i bear isn't even my evil step-grandfather's. the story is muddled and unclear. what we do know is that at some point in his scarred and sketchy youth, he turned his back on "Robertson" (his real last name) and "borrowed" (stole?) his aunt's boyfriend's ID and assumed it and its name for the remainder of his life. was it to pass as old enough to work the railroads? was it to run from the law? the mind reels. i know i have a flair for the dramatic, but believe me when i say without exaggeration, this man was capable of despicable, disgusting, horrible things.
so then, other than that it's a neat little fucked-up story, what does my legal last name mean to me? it carries an evil and abusive history, perpetuating the chosen identity of someone history should be lucky enough to forget.
what i chose instead to do is ask a bunch of my closest friends to try to describe me in 5 words (preferably adjectives). i then collected the responses, found recurring themes, and in keeping with my french heritage, translated the words into french, morphed them all together, and came up with Valoise.
unlike the "new" birthday, which i've already grudgingly conceded, this new last name is something i refuse to give up. some day, i hope to legally change my last name. it is, i firmly believe, a better representation of "the real kaen."
Monday, February 06, 2006
the "real" me
it's been quite the ride - this past year, these past few months. and i anticipate the next few weeks will be filled with some big questions and big decisions.
let's start this journey into "the real kaen" by talking about my birthday. about 3 years ago, when i first moved to the big smoke, i decided to change my birthday. ok ok, i can never change the day which saw me spurted from my ma's loins, i know i know. but i was changing the day i would celebrate my birthday. stop rolling your eyes, ok, i know. but look, my birthday is january 3. can you think of a worse day to have to celebrate? ok, maybe january 1 or 2 - those could be worse. but trust me, 3 is no picnic. people are burned out. they have thrust themselves headfirst into their resolutions - dieting, quitting smoking, you name it. they are broke. they want to curl up and watch tv - not go out and do more feasting and celebrating.
the second problem was the astrology. i'm not a huge astrology person (which you could ironically ascribe to my capricornican nature). but i've learned that the people who ask you "what's your sign", are. so i was always reticent to tell these people that i was a cap. i've read the horoscopes, i know what people think: capricorns are uptight, money-clinging, perfectionistic, workaholic, attachment-fearing recluses. this does not describe me, not even a little bit.
so i went on a quest with some close friends to find the sign that best described me, while also being in a more celebratory season. we settled on may 6 - taurus (which is also my rising sign) and as it worked out, the birth date of Orson Welles. (citizen Kaen - get it? get it?)
well that was great, really it was. i loved the few times i got to celebrate what i lovingly call "princess day" in may. what i didn't love were the raised eyebrows, rolled eyes and scoffing, humouring laughs whenever i explained the complexities of my dual birthday.
so i gave up.
when i told a close friend i was reverting back, she exclaimed her delight. "you keep trying to change yourself, but we love you for who you are!" it was a sweet gesture, touching really. but is january 3 really the "real me"??? this year, i went back to january 3, and it sucked. we had no money. we were on a post-holiday fast. and my boyfriend discovered a birthday greeting from my ex that drove him a little insane, and we fought. and nobody called. is this "the real me"?? does this sad, lonely, cold, broke, burned-out day truly represent "kaen" better than a warm, springy, light-vibed day in may?
i sure as shit hope not...
let's start this journey into "the real kaen" by talking about my birthday. about 3 years ago, when i first moved to the big smoke, i decided to change my birthday. ok ok, i can never change the day which saw me spurted from my ma's loins, i know i know. but i was changing the day i would celebrate my birthday. stop rolling your eyes, ok, i know. but look, my birthday is january 3. can you think of a worse day to have to celebrate? ok, maybe january 1 or 2 - those could be worse. but trust me, 3 is no picnic. people are burned out. they have thrust themselves headfirst into their resolutions - dieting, quitting smoking, you name it. they are broke. they want to curl up and watch tv - not go out and do more feasting and celebrating.
the second problem was the astrology. i'm not a huge astrology person (which you could ironically ascribe to my capricornican nature). but i've learned that the people who ask you "what's your sign", are. so i was always reticent to tell these people that i was a cap. i've read the horoscopes, i know what people think: capricorns are uptight, money-clinging, perfectionistic, workaholic, attachment-fearing recluses. this does not describe me, not even a little bit.
so i went on a quest with some close friends to find the sign that best described me, while also being in a more celebratory season. we settled on may 6 - taurus (which is also my rising sign) and as it worked out, the birth date of Orson Welles. (citizen Kaen - get it? get it?)
well that was great, really it was. i loved the few times i got to celebrate what i lovingly call "princess day" in may. what i didn't love were the raised eyebrows, rolled eyes and scoffing, humouring laughs whenever i explained the complexities of my dual birthday.
so i gave up.
when i told a close friend i was reverting back, she exclaimed her delight. "you keep trying to change yourself, but we love you for who you are!" it was a sweet gesture, touching really. but is january 3 really the "real me"??? this year, i went back to january 3, and it sucked. we had no money. we were on a post-holiday fast. and my boyfriend discovered a birthday greeting from my ex that drove him a little insane, and we fought. and nobody called. is this "the real me"?? does this sad, lonely, cold, broke, burned-out day truly represent "kaen" better than a warm, springy, light-vibed day in may?
i sure as shit hope not...
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
the beast awakens
hello hello and sorry sorry sorry. i know i've been painfully negligent, and it's not through lack of caring. really, you know i simply adore each and every one of you.
but i'm here now, stronger and smiley-er than ever!
or... i would be. if canadians weren't so fucking stupid.
i hang my head in shame over yesterday's election results. after shaking my head at our hapless neighbours to the south, i am shocked and awed that we have elected our very own monster. so much for being unique, canadian, socialist, open-minded and wonderful. so much for health care, pro choice and supremely sophisticated human rights. we now have our own dubya. this is what my fellow country people have said they want.
...or do they want it?
i was ABSOLUTELY HORROR-STRUCK last night when Rex (on CBC) read an email from some fucking moron. the person said they'd "voted Conservative to punish the Liberals". um... hey dumbass, you're not punishing the Liberals, you're punishing yourself. are people really this moutarded?? and if you wanted to punish your party, why hand the "reward" over to the very scary enemy? what about the NDP????
well you know what, i'm not gonna slit my wrists just yet. it's a minority government, with more than enough Liberal and NDP seats to ward off, i hope, any fascism. i guess we'll just have to wait and see what the Bloc do. wow, an alliance between Quebec and Alberta - who'd've ever thunk it?? craziness...
and you know, i am actually pretty thrilled with the leap the NDP has made, and am particularly tickled that my vote contributed to one of the NDP seats in the house. (and a big cheer to the Parkdale/High Park riding for not only voting in Peggy Nash of the NDP, but for showing up in such amazing numbers! over 70%!! yea!!!)
so hang in there kids. it'll pass. let's just hope mr. scary-evil-man doesn't get to do too much damage before the morons either stop "punishing" the Liberals, or realize there's another, better choice...
but i'm here now, stronger and smiley-er than ever!
or... i would be. if canadians weren't so fucking stupid.
i hang my head in shame over yesterday's election results. after shaking my head at our hapless neighbours to the south, i am shocked and awed that we have elected our very own monster. so much for being unique, canadian, socialist, open-minded and wonderful. so much for health care, pro choice and supremely sophisticated human rights. we now have our own dubya. this is what my fellow country people have said they want.
...or do they want it?
i was ABSOLUTELY HORROR-STRUCK last night when Rex (on CBC) read an email from some fucking moron. the person said they'd "voted Conservative to punish the Liberals". um... hey dumbass, you're not punishing the Liberals, you're punishing yourself. are people really this moutarded?? and if you wanted to punish your party, why hand the "reward" over to the very scary enemy? what about the NDP????
well you know what, i'm not gonna slit my wrists just yet. it's a minority government, with more than enough Liberal and NDP seats to ward off, i hope, any fascism. i guess we'll just have to wait and see what the Bloc do. wow, an alliance between Quebec and Alberta - who'd've ever thunk it?? craziness...
and you know, i am actually pretty thrilled with the leap the NDP has made, and am particularly tickled that my vote contributed to one of the NDP seats in the house. (and a big cheer to the Parkdale/High Park riding for not only voting in Peggy Nash of the NDP, but for showing up in such amazing numbers! over 70%!! yea!!!)
so hang in there kids. it'll pass. let's just hope mr. scary-evil-man doesn't get to do too much damage before the morons either stop "punishing" the Liberals, or realize there's another, better choice...
Thursday, December 01, 2005
neptunian now
i've always loved the ocean.
when i was little little girl, perhaps 3 or 4 years old, my family took a trip to the maritimes. i can't remember much (hell, i can barely remember last week!) but i do remember one thing. or.. do i remember, or is it lodged in my memories from having been told again and again around the holiday table?
either way, it's there, in my brain, in my soul:
a young wild precocious girl emerges from hours in the back of a hot, smoky, gas guzzling "pontitac" (as i cutely called it). she emerges from her travelling cage and is confronted with the ocean. and the young girl doesn't run amok or giggle or do any of the silly wild things you can so often see her doing. the young girl, instead, stands transfixed, mesmerized by the vast beautiful ocean.
now, not so young but certainly as wild, this girl (sometimes woman) has fallen in love with a man from the ocean, of the ocean, with eyes like the ocean. and i muse over my oceanic love for him. deep, mysterious, stormy and beautiful...
i met him 3 months ago
and i ran
and ran
and ran.
away
and back
away
and back
a fickle ocean
of tidal disquiet
until finally
waves tossed
whales beached
storms passed
finally
i collapsed in the
gentle
lulling
sigh of his love.
and so here we are
and i am hungry for it all:
the hurricanes
the swells
the depth
the mystery
the titanic
oceanic
thrust of us -
our now
our tomorrow
our yes.
when i was little little girl, perhaps 3 or 4 years old, my family took a trip to the maritimes. i can't remember much (hell, i can barely remember last week!) but i do remember one thing. or.. do i remember, or is it lodged in my memories from having been told again and again around the holiday table?
either way, it's there, in my brain, in my soul:
a young wild precocious girl emerges from hours in the back of a hot, smoky, gas guzzling "pontitac" (as i cutely called it). she emerges from her travelling cage and is confronted with the ocean. and the young girl doesn't run amok or giggle or do any of the silly wild things you can so often see her doing. the young girl, instead, stands transfixed, mesmerized by the vast beautiful ocean.
now, not so young but certainly as wild, this girl (sometimes woman) has fallen in love with a man from the ocean, of the ocean, with eyes like the ocean. and i muse over my oceanic love for him. deep, mysterious, stormy and beautiful...
i met him 3 months ago
and i ran
and ran
and ran.
away
and back
away
and back
a fickle ocean
of tidal disquiet
until finally
waves tossed
whales beached
storms passed
finally
i collapsed in the
gentle
lulling
sigh of his love.
and so here we are
and i am hungry for it all:
the hurricanes
the swells
the depth
the mystery
the titanic
oceanic
thrust of us -
our now
our tomorrow
our yes.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
ho
...ho ho
this sunday, toronto played host to the fat man's arrival and the official launch of the tackiest, shiniest, loveliest season of my year! i'm of course talking about the Santa Claus parade. before going further: yes, i know capitalists have done everything they can to co-opt the season. yes, i know i'm not christian. yes, i prefer to actually celebrate solstice than the 25th. yes, i could choose to grumble at every tinseled tree i see, and dismiss it all as a fascist ploy or gawd knows what.
or i can choose to embrace it. i can choose to savour the time friends and family dedicate to making merry with each other.
as a kid, the playing of Elvis' Christmas Album was always the official launching of this merry season. but since moving to toronto 3 years ago, the parade has become a delicious substitute. i LOVE parades. i love being huddled with my city's people, smiling at tired waving children, tapping my feet to marching band tunes, and feeling my heart swell at the familiar belting out of the ho ho hos. I. LOVE. IT.
and this year, i got to enjoy it with my fella, who had somehow never made it out to the parade, despite a lifetime of living in toronto... (ahh, what men will do for love, and god bless them for it!)
and let me tell you: it was a beautiful day. a beautiful mild day filled with beautiful smiles, candy apples and clowns. (although admittedly, some of the clowns looked a little too much like drag queens on new year's morning...) my favourite moment (other than seeing Santa, of course) was hearing the little girl beside us LOSE IT when she saw Clifford the Big Red Dog. too fucking precious.
i took a few pics with my handy dandy camera phone and just look at my face - how giddily happy am i?? it was a splendid day, topped off with a mountain of whipped cream atop a white hot chocolate and a peanut butter cookie. yum! (as a side note, isn't it strange how grammatically, it would make more sense to say "hot white chocolate", but how that somehow sounds dirty - like a porn star name or something? Keith was clever enough to point this out, to the counterperson's giggly delight. words are funny.)
all in all, a gorgeous day. yay!
this sunday, toronto played host to the fat man's arrival and the official launch of the tackiest, shiniest, loveliest season of my year! i'm of course talking about the Santa Claus parade. before going further: yes, i know capitalists have done everything they can to co-opt the season. yes, i know i'm not christian. yes, i prefer to actually celebrate solstice than the 25th. yes, i could choose to grumble at every tinseled tree i see, and dismiss it all as a fascist ploy or gawd knows what.
or i can choose to embrace it. i can choose to savour the time friends and family dedicate to making merry with each other.
as a kid, the playing of Elvis' Christmas Album was always the official launching of this merry season. but since moving to toronto 3 years ago, the parade has become a delicious substitute. i LOVE parades. i love being huddled with my city's people, smiling at tired waving children, tapping my feet to marching band tunes, and feeling my heart swell at the familiar belting out of the ho ho hos. I. LOVE. IT.
and this year, i got to enjoy it with my fella, who had somehow never made it out to the parade, despite a lifetime of living in toronto... (ahh, what men will do for love, and god bless them for it!)
and let me tell you: it was a beautiful day. a beautiful mild day filled with beautiful smiles, candy apples and clowns. (although admittedly, some of the clowns looked a little too much like drag queens on new year's morning...) my favourite moment (other than seeing Santa, of course) was hearing the little girl beside us LOSE IT when she saw Clifford the Big Red Dog. too fucking precious.
i took a few pics with my handy dandy camera phone and just look at my face - how giddily happy am i?? it was a splendid day, topped off with a mountain of whipped cream atop a white hot chocolate and a peanut butter cookie. yum! (as a side note, isn't it strange how grammatically, it would make more sense to say "hot white chocolate", but how that somehow sounds dirty - like a porn star name or something? Keith was clever enough to point this out, to the counterperson's giggly delight. words are funny.)
all in all, a gorgeous day. yay!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
SNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i may be the only happy adult in toronto right now, because when i emerged to gather some lunch, i noticed it was snowing. oh, not much- just a few floating flakes, but it was snow and I LOVE IT!!!
i LOVE snow!
i love mittens and scarves and hot chocolate and tinsel and twinkling lights and snow angels and skates and eggnog and sleds and frost and pale moons and crisp skies and wool and fireplaces and mulled wine and and and... i love snow.
it's already stopped, but i don't care. even a few flakes can carry me through the next few days.. : )
i hope it snows for real in time for the santa parade this weekend. yes - the santa parade. i may like de phazz and mammalian diving reflex and peter chin and robert priest, but i also like the santa parade.
dammit.
(grin)
i LOVE snow!
i love mittens and scarves and hot chocolate and tinsel and twinkling lights and snow angels and skates and eggnog and sleds and frost and pale moons and crisp skies and wool and fireplaces and mulled wine and and and... i love snow.
it's already stopped, but i don't care. even a few flakes can carry me through the next few days.. : )
i hope it snows for real in time for the santa parade this weekend. yes - the santa parade. i may like de phazz and mammalian diving reflex and peter chin and robert priest, but i also like the santa parade.
dammit.
(grin)
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
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