(polaroid sx-70 / 600 film)

i never blog about my job, my so called career because that is a silly thing to do but i will say it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to push my always changing doodle of a self into the square peg of an environment that causes my head to scream on more days than not.  i am not afraid of hard work and can honestly say that i am more comfortable working out in the hot sun, arms straining as i dig up more and more grassy sod to replace it with wild tangled life that i can eat or cut and spread around scent in my house.  i was even more comfortable high up on a scaffold creating colour where there was none.

i stick out here like a sore thumb even on days i actually attempt to dress the part.  my voice is too soft, my laughter too giggly, my thoughts not critical enough.

my thoughts not critical enough. 

that is the part i think that i am beginning to really understand.  i am a nurturing person and that was reinforced by growing up with a sister who had a severe form of cerebral palsy.  i fed her and brushed out her long hair and i was helping my family do catheders by the time i was 12 years old.  because she couldn't speak with words only the beautiful subtle flash of her eyes, the movement of her face - i learned to read the signs and speak of the intuitive at an early age.  i am quick to help and soothe and give and though i rebelled against that deep part of me for many years, since the death of my twin boys, i have come back to embracing the beauty of being a nurturing person.

my thoughts are not critical enough. 

for a world that seems to demand criticism. 

working on my english degree was difficult because it demanded that i criticize beautiful works of art when all i wanted to do was rejoice in the subtle depths of meaning.  i don't enjoy looking for mistakes or dredging out the problems because i would rather lift you up and tell you all about the beauty that i see in you.  during that time, i became cynical and sarcastic as i smoked on the long end of a cigarette, long hair straight down my back gleaming red.

i admire most of the people i work with because they are passionate and fiery and are able to use their voices to argue a position.  i don't like to argue anymore.  i would rather listen to you tell your stories and share a few of my own in understanding and love.  i would rather hold your hand and share a moment of heart's soul as i seek to further understand how we live in this world, who we are in our spirits and what our real purpose is that goes beyond the need to buy that next distraction.

i feel as though i am at a crossroads, staring down the end of a long concrete road longing for the dusty path of a long skirt boot walk with long tall flowery weeds filling the ditches of my life.  i am a worn out cowboy boot looking for some lavender to fill up the spaces of my heart.  i am a hippy urban girl who would rather hug you than sit across a boardroom and tell you what you should be doing.

love and peace.

collaborative mixed media painting / May 15, 2010

... creating art is often a solitary endeavour but it doesn’t have to be, it can be about community. RAW (Random Art Workshops) reminds me of the quilts that my grandmother used to make at a table surrounded by women. Our hearts open up when we are creating and its nice to share an open heart ...

read the lovely article by the beautiful and heart filled Jenica McKenzie and friends (yes I am honoured to be one of those friends) at Wish Studio. 

 (polaroid sx-70 / 600 film)

(polaroid sx-70 / tz artistic film)

Knees tucked up under her chin, arms hugging her legs as her smile grew dreamy with the scratchy tickle of sound as the music filled her little room and notes flew out the window melding with the chirp song of the tiny birds that flew gently through the sunshine green leaves of her childhood.

time has a smell and a light and a sound and sometimes the worlds collide in a bright explosion and it all comes rushing back in an instant even as a new memory is being created in this very moment and that this moment is a heady rush of yesterday's tomorrow.  i love that.

(polaroid sx-70 / tz artistic film)

i have been living outside of the box, breathing in the air of my life and granting my own wishes.  i am feeling deeply grounded into myself and i have realized that when left to my own devices, i seek the freedom of windblown hair, the tickle of a weed filled open field and the sweat of hard work followed up by a long cool drink of water's release.

i thought that i would work on finishing my photography e-course and write long prose filled pages in the leather bound journal wrapped up in a traveling heart but i didn't.  instead i took a million photos, almost a hundred polaroids stacked up on my desk and hundreds of digital stills still sitting in my camera.  instead i went to the gym everyday and worked the machines and lifted until the soreness was replaced by strong curved muscles followed up by the meditative breath of swimming lap after lap, arms digging through the chlorine smile of a 50 metre pool.

i thought i would clean out my closets and organize my books, install bookcases in my studio but i didn't.  instead i painstakingly painted a spanish stucco oversized garage a pretty yellowy green called grecian green with a dry martini white trim and i stood in the swaying wind, sunshine dripping into my eyes high atop a scaffold holding onto the hot black tar of the roof while i scraped away peeling white paint and replaced all the trim and windows of my house with that same grecian green.

i thought i would weed my garden and clean up the overgrown hops along the fence but i didn't.  instead i pulled out yummy organic vegetables and fruit and made fresh salads coupled with wine and the laughter of friends enjoying the brick patio we built earlier this summer and drank hot cups of morning light coffee on the new cedar deck that my dad and husband built, a deck that housed more laughter and friends and djembe drums and a bowl of bright red grapes.

i have so many photographic adventures to share as i settle back into the routine of my life even as my lips curve in a bohemian smile as i remember where freedom took me.

(above photos are all taken with my trusty Polaroid SX-70 with 600 film and are brought to you by our visit to the Edmonton Fringe Festival)

we opted to staycation this year.  two blissful weeks of no responsibility, no deadlines, no where that we need to be.  as summer winds down, we wander our city and remember how much it has to offer.

i have pretty much turned off the noise of the internet, choosing instead to live outside of the box and spend time with my family.  there has been much conversation, laughter and roll around on the floor hilarity going on over here.  i have relaxed and breathed life into myself.  i feel like myself and i feel absolutely utterly relaxed as i begin week two of refilling the reserves that allow me to live the very full and busy life of balancing the work that pays the bills and the creative work that feeds my soul along with my family, home and friends.

leaves have started falling from the towering elm trees in my front street and as i ran up the stairs to the gym yesterday, i ran into a colleague from work and was reminded that this time is fleeting and so i will continue to get out there and fully enjoy it.

i have been taking photos everyday and as my fridge stock dwindles, the stack that needs to be scanned grows into a tower precariously balanced on my desk.  am going to try and come here every morning and scan those babies because polaroids were made for sharing and what better time to share than to indulge a wee bit of time into the august break.

We walked the dock and you said, “that is the life!” as your head turned towards an elderly couple sitting in green lawn chairs, saran wrapped sandwiches balanced on worn laps and I remembered a different couple, brown hair wrapped carefully in curlers at night, cold cream smeared over the wrinkles carved out of the wind and sun. I tell you stories of your ancestors and how generations, myself included, were born by the lake our souls drifting about like white washed wood embedded in tiny granules of sand.  (read the full article at life as a human ....)

i would so love for you to comment over there and share how you feel about where you grew up ... it would make me happy to hear a slice of your story.

happy anniversary baby.  you are my best friend, my lover, the one who can make me laugh until tears run down my face and who holds me gently when the world is crashing down around me.  i love you forever and always.

i forgot how much i love the absence of colour, the sharp detail of a thought that lingers uncomfortably for just a minute too long.  the awkward sense of rhythm that comes from the washing away of bright memory.

you will never really know the ripples of strength that i have, the beauty that comes from being worn down, the shifting that comes from meeting pressure and challenges face forward and heart vulnerable.  i am not who you think you know because i have changed since yesterday, since last week, last month and most definitely since last year.

i have exposed the open sores to elements and surprised myself so many times that i wonder how i still manage to be startled by my thoughts.

when i was a little girl, i thought i lived by the sea, waves crashing, seaweed drifting as i picked clams from the sand.  as i grew older, i realized it was just a large lake and i put it in the bag of smallness which i eventually packed myself into as well.  and now i find myself here.  in this place of deep knowing.  that place where pieces of my heart float back and forth and memories collide and crash and meld together before being displaced and dried out on the shores.  vast and mysterious and filled with light and dreams and love and care. 

i recently opened up the tattered bag i have been carrying around and realize with a rub of my eyes that i have changed so much that i see it all so very differently and realize my entire life has been a blessing.

and as i sniff the air and let all of that beauty escape out ... i know that i am ready for change.