Anon

The colours of the world have lessened in saturation
It's a tragedy of mild proportions, if such a tragedy exists.
Shades of gray spill into sight and everyone's face is bland.

The wind's song is too faint to hear, the air is silent and dreary.
A meadow, once a beautiful lover, now but a clearing in the wood.
Even the trees have surrendered their roots to the indifference of this spirit.

Abandoned by the ruling power of desire, all are orphaned, all are alone.
In this thought we reunite, we come together.
Cherishing the scent of the oak and the lilies we seek a mere drop of purpose.

By the side of the barn a bird's conversation with the leaves is heard.
A freeze of hesitation, we finally approach him, ready for his wisdom.
He says to watch, smell, hear all we can as one day these abilities will desert us.
The colours will come back to you, he says. The wind will sing again.
A beautiful meadow will make love to the flowers and lift the dull souls from the dirt.

The pollen tickles our faces as it's blown through the air and we smell the breeze's breath.
The scent encourages our memories and we're reminded of angelic days.

Looking up at the blue blanket over the world, we see the paints of the wild anew.
Indifference has become the orphan now. Indifference bares shades of gray.
We have found our mother now, she bares but one name: our beloved Mother Nature.

Uncertainty. A demon defeated.

Uncertainty. It's the darkness staring back at us through the door frame... and we are often too afraid to walk through. We hesitate when we aren't sure of what's waiting for us on the other side. We turn around, ignoring our curious nature, ignoring the intrigue, ignoring the attraction to mystery and exploration. We turn around at times when perhaps we shouldn't have.

I'm guilty of closing doors before I have a chance to discover anything new. My immediate reaction is often that of regret and curiosity of "what may have been." I run, fast on my feet, avoiding the unknown. Two years ago, bored, unstimulated, and numb of my daily routine, I had a moment of spontaneity. I decided to take a blind leap and move across the country at a time that was both irresponsible and completely inconvenient. I had no money saved, no job lined up, no place to live and no plan. But I felt compelled. The uncertainty didn't phase me because I didn't take the time to think about my fears. I wasn't fearless by any means, I was most certainly afraid, but I didn't focus on the fear because I knew it would keep me from the freedom of discovery. I walked through the dark door frame and on the other side I found everything I was afraid of: loneliness, homelessness, poverty, and great responsibility. I told my thoughts to slow down so I could take a moment...

I looked up and remembered where I was...I was in the mountains. I made it. I held my arms out to hug the landscape. I made a promise to myself that day. I promised to conquer it all, regardless of uncertainty. I promised to myself that I would never turn away from an open doorway because of something so small and petty as "uncertainty." Because if I allowed uncertainty to consume me this time, I wouldn't have found myself surrounded by this inspirational beauty.

We are a very fortunate species. We possess the freedom to discover all that we want in our lives. Perhaps we have technology to thank for our jet set adventures, perhaps even without it we would have always found a way to embark on our journeys. Perhaps if we are passionate enough we can achieve true nobleness of character. True to ourselves, always. But we must take advantage of this incredible freedom because it embraces our nature and our spirit. The world can give us so much if we give it a chance.

I feel words

In the last 2 months I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen my friends. I was working 6 days a week, 10-16 hour days, and met someone I wanted to spend all of my free time with. After the first month I noticed my cell phone wasn't ringing as regularly as it normally would. The texts and invites to parties and social events were growing thin...a very strange thing in Whistler. I couldn't blame my friends. I made it a habit to be absent. Friendships are incredibly important to me but I knew I had to rearrange my priorities in order to focus at work. And focus I did.

Once the two months of hard work had concluded, I felt abandoned. I felt alone. I thought that I'd be happy to take time off for myself and spend some time alone. Oh I was mistaken. Last week was terrible. Down in the gutter of dark thoughts, I dwelled and held my head in my heads several times a day. No work. A man far away. And friends with whom I'd lost touch. As the week came to a close and the melancholy infected my mind, I decided that I would take a trip down to Hongcouver and reconnect with my favourite gay couple, Matt and Adam. The next day I packed a bag and dashed for the city. The moment I entered their apartment I knew I made the right choice to leave Whistler for the night. Warm hugs and incredible conversation came into play immediately. The night flowed splendidly. We inhaled a bottle of rouge and relocated to a live jazz lounge in Yaletown. The band encouraged a sense of time travel...A sense that I had disappeared into an era of flappers and feathered headbands. I ordered a 20$ pizza and two vodka waters. When my pizza arrived I had been prying my eyes open and my cheeks were flustered. I was drunkity drunk drunk. Matt and Adam witnessed my fatigue and suggested we go home once we were finished eating.



When we got back we sparked up a canon of a joint and got silly. I mean really silly. I regret not having had some sort of recording device present. Conversation topics were plentiful. Philosophy was in the air. And laughter was unavoidable. I must have giggled the way I giggled when I was 16 smoking pot in Secret Park (that's a reference for all my Beacon Hill folk). Matt had a particularly productive high as he discovered why he's a writer. "I feel words," he said. Sitting on the chaise by the window I surrendered to dream land and left my wonderful friends behind.

In the morning I saw clouds. Too many! Another gloomy day...I just couldn't take it. I sluggishly got up off the couch and we went out for breakfast. As we walked to the restaurant the clouds parted, as to say "let's give everyone a break, just for today." The afternoon was stunning. We walked the entirety of the sea wall. With my trusty new 150$ digi cam in hand I snapped photos every few steps. I was taken aback by the beauty in Vancouver. Matt and Adam live in English Bay, a truly rewarding place to live. The two of them have created an eden of their own. Floor to ceiling windows that look onto the ocean and a magnificent city scape make for a couple's everyday retreat.

I've spent quite some time in Vancouver, mainly in Gastown and Yaletown and of course doooowntown. But this was my first true Sea Wall and Stanley Park experience. We walked from their front door, over to the Lost Lagoon. It amazed me that within blocks, just minutes from the buzzing of the city, was this incredibly calm land by the water. Matt and Adam, arms linked, walked ahead as I froze to enjoy the scenery. Like a sponge, I soaked it all in. I took a moment to evaluate the last 2 months I spent as an Assistant Producer with a television show. Naturally a deep feeling of nostalgia blew over as the melancholy planned its infiltration. But the sundance on the water and the clean air that I was breathing in formed a moat around me. I was finally able to reflect without tears, without the "poor me" syndrome, and without the feeling of desertion.

Armed with a new sense of triumph, I continued to walk with Matt and Adam who patiently listened to me meander among words about relationships. I had so much to share and their ears were approachable. We reached the Sea Wall somewhere between my babbling and our collective foot steps. Standing in front of me I noticed the oddest structure. Not quite uprigt, and defininitely taken out of context, this structure reminded me of the Crooked Kitchen. For some who aren't familiar with the "Crooked" or the "Crazy Kitchen," allow me to elaborate. The Crazy Kitchen is a very popular installation found at the Canadian Museum of Science and Technology in Ottawa, Ontario. It's designed to give you motion sickness. One corner of the room is slanted by 12 degrees, making it 2 feet higher than the other side of the room. The tiles, the countertops, the table and chairs, are all designed to seem flat and in place. So, your eyes are telling you one thing, and your body is struggling to remain upright. As I stared at this structure along the Sea Wall I couldn't tell if the logs were lopsided, or the railing behind it was angled, or the structure itself was toppling over. But I reverted to a time when I was a child and walking through the Crazy Kitchen was as good as a roller coaster ride.

Next, we decided to walk over to Yaletown, so we headed for Granville. On our way, we ignorantly stumbled onto a film set. Suddenly, all of the vehicles had European license plates, and the street signs were written in German. Even billboards were replaced with ads found in downtown Frankfurt. At a standstill, we finally realized what we'd walked into. A snotty queen asked Adam if he was wearing his sunglasses in the last shot. Confused, he hesitated to respond. The snotty queen then said, without hesitation, "You're going to have to leave." Having just worked on a tv set shot on location, I knew what it was like to tell people they needed to ditch the scene, but I'd always use the word please when asking someone to flee. This man had a chip on his shoulder and a stick so far up his ass I thought I could see it coming out of his mouth. We bitched about him for a few blocks until we arrived at Yaletown.

A little window shopping and the day was complete as we wandered back to English Bay. I collected my things and said my goodbyes and headed for my white van. The two hour drive home was a pensive one. I had a nice little getaway but it was time to return to the bubble that I call home. With honesty and conviction, I would like to say the escape worked. It was probably the perfect combination of great company, red wine, and magnificent sights, that were responsible for the quick resurrection of my fiery soul.

an introduction

Matters of the heart always bare the deepest part of us. To write about them is to write about our insides. To reveal our fears and our weaknesses. But also to share with the world the beauty and passion we've encountered. The most radiant souls confess everything... like an open book they tell tales of courage and loyalty and of course, love. At times, these tales provide hope, and others provide rationality. Oh, since when is love rational? No. No it isn't. But all things rational must exist in order to carry us through the irrational ups and downs of the heart.

Each experience we take with us plants a seed. A seed of rational thought. It's important to allow these seeds to grow. They will form dimensions in our spirit that prove useful in the future. We're all dynamic beings. Ever changing. It's only natural to accept these growths and to nourish them because they will evolve as we do. A fair warning: not every seed is light. Not every seed possesses positivity. In fact, many seeds that are planted will be dark and grounding. Some will be humbling. Still, they are all necessary. Once we've adopted them and welcomed them into our core they are no longer baggage. They weigh nothing as they become one with us. a past lover. a dead friend. a broken window. We no longer drag the emotional anchor. Instead, we have enhanced our existence. We have enhanced our being. We've taken a negative experience and placed it somewhere it can be beneficial. We learn from the past, always, but must remember that our future is sovereign. These seeds, these growths that are within us, they're not ghosts. They push us in the right direction, they push us towards a progressive self. If we don't nourish them, they can turn on us. They'll reiterate jealousy, greed, and anger. It's vital that we don't ignore the seeds as they flourish. And when a gloomy seed tickles our ego, our emotions, our mind, then pay attention to it but don't go backwards. Don't revert to the source of the seed, because it's gone. The seed is there to represent what has past. The seed is an ambassador of the things no longer present. Only look to the seed for guidance... no further.

For the heart door to unlock we must have faith in everything that's blossomed within us. If we are not supported by internal entities, external beings will have a difficult time connecting. Knowing yourself takes a lifetime. This is not about knowing ourselves. This is about awareness and acceptance. Aware of our flaws and acceptance of our weaknesses. Ignoring the seeds will lead to failure. To acknowledge and be honest is to own ourselves. And to own one's self is noble. Nothing bad ever came from being noble, did it?

he travelled on his spirit's two feet

deeply he spoke into the cave where he saw his soul's face
it surprised him with its resilient smile, a soothing sight it was.
not all are as lucky as he, for most of us have souls with no expression at all.
he knew how fortunate he was and so set forth into the cave.
he was searching for a life force stronger than his own
but what was there at the end and into the deepest part of the earth
was nothing more than everything he already knew.
nothing more than his memories. his emotions. his most promised ideas.

"why have you come here?" the cave asked.
and he stood there, boldly, with nothing to say.
she demanded words or she would strip him of his humanity slowly.
a threat so large he froze and a tear of ice fell from his eye and his eye bled.
recognizing the man's perpetual passion for life and the human race
she urged him once more.
"why my dear creature have you sought me out?"
a calm flowed through his veins and encouraged him to speak softly to her.
"I've come to find the seed that grows beneath my spirit's feet."
with a gentle grin she responded with great wisdom
"It is there, up there on the surface. somewhere near and dear to you. it is with you everyday and in the air when you breathe.
it is not in religion or adrenaline. it is not in books or the arts. but it is strong. and it is yours forever."

wounded by her words he left the cave with a sense of dissatisfaction
he would spend the rest of his life searching for the seed that grows beneath his spirit's feet
and it was a task that gave him a sense of fulfillment and ambition until the end of his time.
and he never, not for a breath, not for a thought, questioned himself again.

the monogamist's throne

What is it about pairing off as the end all be all to our personal success in life? Why do we feel complimented, justified, complete, when we find someone who loves us, cherishes us, and wants to grow old with us? What's so great about someone loving you romantically? Isn't it sufficient to have friends in your life who would die for you? Take a bullet for you?



I think humanity has a serious ego issue. This is probably why women in relationships often don't get along well with women who are single. Not only do they believe every single gal out there is on the hunt for a man, but they tend to think that every woman who talks to their spouse is hitting on them. Sure, they might be insecure, but does that really vindicate the dagger eyes? Perhaps. Circumstances could ask for it I suppose. And why is it, being single inspires pity from other people? "So, are you seeing anyone special? No? Oh, don't worry, you'll find someone soon, you're a great person." Thank you, I know I'm a great person, I don't need a ball and chain to legitimize my existence in this regressive society!

I refuse to indulge in the hierarchy of the monogamist's union. When I enter a healthy relationship and find someone I can tolerate for more than five minutes, it will be solely for the reasons of enjoying their company. I don't need arm candy. A spouse shouldn't be treated as an accessory. "This is my boyfriend, see how well he goes with my new smile?" Just the other night my friend told me that his friend dated someone of 'high' status, which automatically makes her a catch. Um, excuse me? She hooked a successful guy so suddenly that makes her admirable? We must stop praising people for their abilities to lure men and women towards us and start praising them for who they are as individuals. If we don't, we'll only perpetuate this pathetic display of superficial relationship syndrome.




Just to clarify here, I am not anti-monogamy by any means. I definitely prefer being in a healthy relationship than being single. But I don't think I'm any less of a person if I don't have someone in my life. And I don't need pity. I'm happy when I'm single. I'm sad when I'm single. I'm happy when I'm with someone, and I can get sad when I'm with someone. It's all the same. The key is finding things you love other than love itself.

free love -- for ashley dawn

free love is the best love.
it moves with the wind, caressing the trees, stroking the leaves, bringing life to the silent wood.
when it sleeps, it rests in the earth, where it lay, seducing you, bringing you closer.
as you open your soul to nature, free love finds a new home.it now lives within you, eternally. streaming through your soul, lifting you above the clouds of your personal burden.
that is where you will rest.
where WE will rest, as ambassadors of free love.

the riddle of the rattle

No subject is taboo between one of my closest friends Justin and I. One night, hangin' in my room chattin' away, I brought up the topic of a fulfilling life. In particular, my fear that I may never slip into the niche I was meant to find and will ultimately lead a life of pointlessness. I explained to him that I'm not really sure what makes me happy. I know what tickles me pink and what leaves a stink. But what on earth makes me, above all other things and people in the world, HAPPY. Justin believes that happiness is an illusion, one of his many beliefs I don't completely agree with but respect nonetheless. I always try to take his ideals into consideration when determining my stance on an inssue. He explained that everything is perspective. We can create our own reality. We can choose to be happy. We can choose to think positively. Or we can choose to go the darker route.

Assuming everything is perspective and happiness is an illusion, then I wonder, is ignorance truly bliss? Nobel Prize winner Anatole France once said that "a person is never happy except at the price of some ignorance." Should we agree then? This makes me think of the rattle snake. The rattle snake is one of my favourite groups of snakes for many reasons: they are one of the few snakes who give birth to live young, as opposed to laying eggs. They are venemous and can strike faster than the human eye can even follow, a trait found only in this species. Because they are often underestimated in speed and length of reach, they are damn good at biting people. But the greatest thing about them, and what makes them relevant to this here blog post, is that they can't hear their own rattle. And believe me, I've worked with rattle snakes back in the day (Little Ray's Reptile Zoo, kudos to you guys!) the rattling is not quiet. Rattle snakes are oblivious to their warning sign (the rattle). It's a natural instinct for them. Humans don't have the luxury of acting entirely on instinct. We are burdened with deep thinking, contemplation, emotions. How are we meant to find 'happiness?' Is Justin right, is it an illusion? Or is life an illusion, a distraction, from the inevitable feeling of loneliness until we meet our end: death.

Perhaps happiness is a journey. So long as we continue to search for it throughout our lives, we will find it in the end, once our life in this world has finished. Or perhaps humanity is incapable of happiness because we are observers, or at least some of us are (I know I am). My analytical side is definitely a tragic flaw. Observing makes it difficult for us to determine what reality is and how we are supposed to find our niche. As my friend Chloe, an aspiring photographer, says, "everyone wants to be a photographer." It's true, most people are searching for a unique experience, a unique lifestyle, daring to be different. But in doing so we are one and the same. Writers, painters, musicians, athletes. Chasing your passion seems to be the "in" thing to do these days, which makes it even tougher to get there. This world is competitive and having the right perspective, a wide perspective, can make or break you.

I recently read a very interesting book, Happiness: A history, written by a historian, Darrin McMahon that investigates the everchanging standard of what we consider to be happiness. He explores all of the ways in which humanity has sought out to be happy, and the dynamic relationship our species has with the things that are meant to get us there. There was a time when happiness was thought only to be attainable in the after life, and that the lives they led on earth were for suffering, serving, and sacrifice. Supposedly, the Greeks were the first to jump into the idea of 'pursuing' happiness. If this is true 'happiness' as an entity is fairly young.

While Anatole France believed happiness comes only with ignorance, philosopher Thomas Aquinas believed happiness is to seek truth. With this in mind, I find my thoughts running circles around the idea of perspective and reality. Seeking truth is unprofitable without some idea of reality, or even a belief that there is such a thing. How are we to determine what's real and what's not, what's true and what's false, if all we have to go on is our perspective?

As trivial as these questions may be, they bring to the surface many aspects of ignorance. If we do not ask these questions, if we do not question our lives, our spirituality, our competence, our meaning, our world, our consciousness, our government or even our supposed reality, then would we be happy as a species?Oblivious to our purpose, we could achieve true happiness should we be capable of distracting ourselves long enough.