Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it.

California Boy

2011-04-29T21:40:00.001-07:00

I smell the ocean in your breath,

when you whisper on my ear,

a secret only you and I will share.

Your light blue blooms wink back at me,

against sun kissed, rolling crests,

that wave and dance in never ending pairs.

Those strong, broad palms spread over me,

A child in your soothing shade

That warm and cool in perfect, balanced care.

I too have brought a gift for you,

a fresh canvas washed in white

to pour on all the colours of your dreams

And on this virgin stretch of sand

I will listen for your song

And wander where the wonder’s meant to lead

Rebirth....

2009-12-22T22:43:00.000-08:00

"Every person is born twice. The second time is when you earn your place among the people forever."

I am about to be reborn. And, I am finally starting to see why I subjected myself to the countless thrashing waves of an angry sea.... for as I stood and breathed on shore, feeding only on the fuel of ignorance and innocence, i could find no steady ground. There would be no rebirth without first a walk through the fire of transformation. So, I chose you to be my destroyer. I knew you would not hold back. You would not wipe away my tears with compassion. You would not hesitate to tear the flesh from my bone, to bleed the body and damn my soul, poisoning my every dying breath. But, now the trials have sounded their end. Rebirth is underway. You fed on my humility. But, it is I who now grows hungry for the wilds that lie ahead. I am not afraid. I will lead if even only one should follow. There is work to do. And, the fire continues to burn, extinguishable not by the fiercest of winds nor driving torrents of rain. This is the new world I have long sought and there will be no looking back.

Letter to a friend..

2009-10-17T08:44:00.001-07:00

The path you're on is the only true real path. There is no other path. It is the culmination of every decision you have made to this point. It is the foundation for every decision you will make from this point forward. It is an expression of everything you are and aspire to be. There is no other path. It IS the path. It is neither good nor bad, right nor wrong. Don't curse the road for the potholes or dwell on the faded yellow lines. You will miss the brilliant fall colours that dot the landscape. You will miss the cotton candy clouds that dance on a carousel of autumn wind.

The moment you accept that you are exactly where you need to be, you start to live this moment to the fullest. If you truly wish to be somewhere else, you will find your way there. But, to reject the here and now is to stop living in the moment...which is essentially to stop living, since we can only live in the here and now. To live anywhere else is to take yourself out of existence, to give up your consciousness and float in limbo.

If you conquer the little things, the bigger worries will take care of themselves. Pull the weeds and the flowers bloom higher. Do the little things that bring you joy and joy will find a home within you.

I know it is our nature to to worry, to feel at times helpless in a seemingly chaotic world. But, that is an illusion. We are whatever we choose to tell ourselves we are. Forget about changing the world, change the routine that wears you down and you will have begun a greater transformation.

Right now you have mobility, you have a place to stay. You have friends who would welcome you and support you. You have years of experience in your chosen field and health and time enough to choose another and begin again. You have family. You have the innocence of a child to absorb. talk to that child...see what makes him laugh and laugh with him. You have the beauty and tranquility of the countryside, absorb the lessons it has to teach. There is nothing stopping you from attaining anything you want but worry and self-doubt. And, it is in your power to reject both or embrace both and wallow in the misery they offer. Don't second guess others or have expectations of them. Just go with the flow and create joy. Go to the cottage and create fun. There is absolutely no reason to worry that someone isn't catering to your ego. That is counter productive to creating a mood of joy and fun. Reject the sensitivity as an outdated habit that allowed you to hide from the things you want most so you can later get attention by playing the victim. Reject being rejected and you will be the life of the party, even if you are outside watching the leaves while everyone inside gets drunk. It won't matter. You will have found a place in the group dynamic where you have found your own kind of joy. I say this to you out of love and friendship. Embrace the possibility, not the potential for disappointment.

The moment you accept that you CAN do anything, is the moment you will begin the anything that you choose to explore.

There is nothing wrong with the darkness the funk, the quiet. With out these, there could be no joy, no noise, no light. We are creatures of relativity. We are creators! So create. When you hit a wall, when you hit a block......punch through, go around, knock, or read a book and wait for the owner to come home. never think there is someone on the other side working against you. Even if there is...he/she has no power to stop you. There are a million different doors, and a million different answers. But, there is only one path. And, it is the path you are on. It is the path that you have chosen to walk. And, it is a glorious path. Smile. You are amazing!!!!

xxo
Billy

Notes On A Train

2009-02-06T18:07:00.000-08:00

I can smell the ecstasy of creativity.

It is earthy, musky and yet, somehow sweet.

As I breathe it in, it coats my tongue and makes it moist.

Comfortable is almost as painful as chilled.

Squeezed by the weepy eyed grip of stability.

I can hear you....somewhere out there.

Dancing in the unseen world.

I don't know how to find you.

But, you seem closer when I close my eyes and when I let my thoughts float away.

Maybe you'll glow brighter when the lights outside have dimmed.

Our lips are bound to touch the same few frames of sky.

Darkest Before The Dawn...

2009-01-20T15:52:00.000-08:00

What treasure lies within the dark,
caressed by only hope and faith.
a candy flavoured warm wet kiss,
yet born of unfamiliar face.

So little light shines on this day,
and choking on the dust of ruin
I"ll prey for gentle providence
for morrow's sweeter sounding tune

A New Year's Wish

2009-01-01T07:42:00.000-08:00

Fill your heart with the hopes of tomorrow.

Find sure footing on the ground that offers joy.

Escape the never ending landslide of debris and disappointment

that comes from holding on to things best left behind.

Answer the call of those wish to include you in great new adventures.

Don't waste time pining for those who don't.

Begin the journey that leads to your dreams,

and savour every minute along the way.

Happy New Year! Best wishes for 2009!

You Are My Kryptonite

2008-12-13T14:00:00.000-08:00

The healer can not heal your wounds

And, dealers do not deal your high

Leaving me to lay adrift

beneath a golden glitter sky.

Your taste still lingers on my lips,

though time has watered down its kiss

fermented in a cask of loss

though not completely robbed of bliss.

I feel you watching when I dream,

adding colour to my thoughts,

Wondering why we stopped the dance,

why friendship bloomed, then turned to rot.

But, distance does not disconnect

two souls so fatefully entwined.

The summer's long forgotten sun

can still the winter walker blind.

You are my kryptonite, my friend.

Your reach extends into my being,

with power to keep the wall intact

or find me by the faerie tree.

Thirsty

2008-11-21T18:04:00.000-08:00

Wind swept craters wink at a drought weary sky,
tongues of black fanning out from their lips,
bathed only in moonlight,
on the earth's pock marked skin.
Where is the scorpion?
She pulls all the strings, the temptress,
the trapper, the villain, the judge.
Reborn at day's vigil,
to feast on the night.
The embers have long since rescinded their glow,
The stars hang like voyeurs at back alley shows,
an irregular rhythm comes over the land,
regret purged in shivers, shallow breaths, shaking hands.
Each minute grows colder,
more muffled each sound,
as the sand shifts and stirs to make room
in its bed.
I'll oblige, I'll accept. And, rest for a while.

Thank God for margins of error...

2008-08-21T16:42:00.000-07:00

And, then there's that illusive 1% turning glitter into gold. Well done. Indent. Margin. indent. Content. Escape. Return. End Margin. Error

Make me a garden....

2008-08-18T09:58:00.001-07:00

Of all the geniuses I’ve ever known, with god-like gifts to change the world, 99% planted their feet on the path to mediocrity, through booze and boys, girls and glitter.

Night Messages

2008-08-15T15:21:00.000-07:00

Oh Hraggy. It's like Christmas eve...waiting up past your bedtime, listening intently for the pitter patter or hoof steps....or in this case the jing jing jingle of an msn alert....seconds stretched to minutes, minutes stretch to hours...and suddenly you grow fearful... "Did I not leave Santa Hraggy enough milk and cookies? Did I address the letter to the north pole with the correct postal HOHOHO?" But, only silence and the echo of a Christmas carol dancing in the darkness on a wave of anticipation... "Surely Santa Hraggy wouldn't miss this one small house, on this quiet, empty street"....An idea..Light a candle to guide Rudolf Right Hand Finger Digits to the keyboard. But, alas. The only percussion this night is the breaking of a little elf's spirit.....Sorry Virginia...there is no Santa. No Santa Hraggy that sends candy coloured witticisms to children from coast to coast...He's now relegated to the abyss of Tooth fairy Gary and Harry the Easter Bunny. I guess I'll suck some sugar plums and let the calories pile on my pudgy pelvis...soothed by sugar into a senseless stupor....wondering where lions are, and why all the superheros have gone home to Salmon Grande...........

She takes Pains

2008-03-15T15:23:00.000-07:00

She takes pains to make you understand the way she feels.
She takes pains as compensation for time she thinks you steal.
The problem with the way she deals with things she can’t control...
Is noone heals, we all just fall, we all just fall

She runs wild with words, saying that she shares yours dreams
Then closes all the doors so you’re left silenced and unseen.
If you try to build a garden in the shadow of a wall,
then no one shines, we all just fall, we all just fall

The Search

2008-01-27T19:16:00.000-08:00

After about a year and a half exploring Sharon Shinn's mythical world of Samaria, I've finally turned the last few pages on her incredible fantasy trilogy. I think I'm actually in a period of mourning. Stealing a few minutes a day from my overtaxed schedule to reacquaint with Angel and Endori, Mandavii and Jacobite was quite literally a divine escape. In the future, I think I'll plan it out a little better; to leaf through the last chapter midway through Spring. Late January begs to be mated with a cozy curl in a cushioned arm chair, a warm tea steaming quietly on the side table, a fleece blanket embracing snugly from behind. But, scanning through the book shelves at Chapters to find a new book after just completing ones you've loved is a bit like surfing through the adverts on an on-line dating site. Sure. Friends can offer you their sloppy seconds. Oprah can guide you to the next pop culture phenom. But, I tend to like the hidden gems, the stories woven so cleverly that the subtext is lost on the masses, the characters so charming and coy that they almost choose to lie just below the radar. I do have a few friends a little left of cliche with whom I may have to consult. But, then again maybe I'll just let my wandering mind swim over the stacks, let my intuition guide me towards the next novel adventure.
I've had an inkling that, upon finishing the trilogy, something or someone would weave their way into my life and redirect my course. Perhaps that's why I've nursed each page like a jigger of well aged whisky. I think I'm ready now. I'm not sure if it necessarily has anything to do with the next book I'll read. Maybe some inspired passage will point the way to a future home. Either way, I'll have to trust my gut and the forces that live between the lines of space and time and stanza. Spring will soon arrive to wake us from our winter slumber. It's hard not to smile when considering the sweetness blended into that new wave of life.

Chapter 1...

2007-09-25T18:04:00.000-07:00

NARRATOR:
There are times in every life when the winds of change blow stronger than the storms we've come to know, rising from the calm with sudden, wild fury. They steal away our creature comforts. They choke us of our easy breath and threaten to tear apart the very fabric of our souls. But, if we survive this darkest night, the brilliant sun of morning sings the sweetest tune, a serenade of fresh hope...and salvation born of new beginnings......

Eddie had an acute sense of when such storms might come to pass and thought perhaps their magic may have been spun from the flapping of a butterfly's wings right there in his own secret garden...........He greeted them with trepidation...but never sadness....Sometimes he even welcomed the adventure and the transformation that almost always ensued.

This time though, there seemed so much more to lose. Something in the shadows was racing at him, clawing and screaming, amplifying with every breath he took. It had been a long time since he’d put these kind thoughts to rest. But, they were rising from their slumber, pricking him with the sharp edged fragments of things left incomplete. There was no avoiding it. He’d met the daemons years ago. The ones that followed him into quiet thoughts. Back then he was alone and unprepared. But, so much had happened since. So, many more prepared to bare arms in his defence. And, even if the last of these were to fall, he was sure he could engage alone, endure and exercise the darkness from the subtext on every page he read. He dug under piles of well worn clothes, in boxes filled with forgotten sentiment, discarded games and trinkets saved from summers past. He searched under year books and dvds, ticket stubs and birthday cards. There it was...bound in black, thick with random thought.
He stopped. His expression hardened. He sighed, questioning his real motivation. Shaking his head, he moved to bury the book back inside the past. And, then a leaf flew free of its hard covered tomb. It came to rest on its face. But, ink seeped though. Scrolled backward, he still recognized the phrasing. At least it wasn’t that swirl, the doodle that represented all he ever feared.
What harm would it do to read a little. He sat on his bed, and raised the sheet from the floor to his lap and read a poem addressed to him when he was someone he now barely recognized.

IN Winter Dreams.....
... I'll watch the snow
that dances through the starlit sky
and follow down its secret path
laid there for you and I
IN Winter Dreams....
....I'll kiss the wind
that whips its tail on ghostly chimes
and warm a whisper with my lips
to feel your breath on mine
IN Winter Dreams...
....I'll climb the tree
that glows in quiet solitude
and lay my head down in its arms
imagining its you.
IN Winter Dreams....
....I'll take the hand
that guides me towards your perfect smile
and court the star seeds in your eyes
that light the coming mile

Quest for Greatness...

2007-04-05T14:24:00.000-07:00

"Some are born with greatness. Others have greatness thrust upon them." But in the analysis of why some lead and others follow, let us not forget the few who walk the warrior’s path....those courageous souls who search out greatness with out being born into it or having it thrust upon them.
There is a social gravity which seems to want to force everyone into their place....growth at a controlled, manageable pace. Guidelines, limits, boundaries....some common sense, some common courtesy....others just tools of unconscious suppression. For without followers, leaders are weak.... at least the leaders who are born into power, or those who have it thrust upon them.
Then there are the peaceful warriors. Theirs is a greatness of ideals, of philosophy of determination. Theirs is a path divergent from the mainstream, living outside the box, dreaming outside the night, creating outside the machine.
We are the artists, the dreamers, the philosophers. All of us. That moment of idle thought, where eyes drift from the stacks of paper climbing the cubical walls. The smile which owes its life to a different choice. The cheers that roar from crowds not yet gathered. The flash of "what might be" processing in the minds eye.
Why do so few stretch this window of enlightenment into a purpose driven life...? Why do we forget that we are not just here to serve, but to contribute and maybe even inspire? Why do we lose our way in the comfort of routine? Why do we waste so much time and energy on wayward and soul destructive pursuits?
Maybe it’s our concept of time. We wake up with the expectation of what the day ahead will hold...of a "Monday" instead of a "New" day. We thereby live in the past and not in the moment. How is it possible to rise to greatness, if one is barely moving forward. For most, there is no road ahead to navigate..only a cycle repeated.
I wonder if many of our social constructs have doomed the masses to lives of mediocrity. I wonder if that’s why I’ve always rejected the idea of working 9-5....Maybe punching into passion instead of a time clock will save the soul of humanity, creating leaders of us all and real progress on the road to greatness.

Enough with the drama, just make me laugh!

2007-03-14T12:56:00.000-07:00

We get so excited to unlock locked doors. Tear open the blinds as if expecting to see a vista changed by the quiet hands of night. Codes and cliques, rules and recitations, trying to control who sees the answers, thinking it will mean more answers for ourselves. Not all challenges are worth the pursuit. But, we pursue regardless. Experience after all, is the only way to truly judge.
I have walked a thousand paths, and regretted very few. I never feel more alive than in the midst of a seemingly random adventure....standing on the precipice of possibility. For it is here where I have the power to create anything. But, do not mistake my child-like wanderlust for an aura of drama. If that's the case I'll zig while you zag.
I've discovered what brings me delight. And, it ain't that complex. An idea shared with a friend over coffee. A hug with someone I love. words spoken from the heart, the creative process at work, opening my eyes on an exotic landscape. Sitting by the water on a warm summers day. closing my eyes to hear the crickets court. Losing myself on a dance floor. Losing myself in a photograph. The lap of ocean waves on a beach. the tapping of rain on a cottage roof. Laughing with friends around a bonfire. Getting silly with a group in which I can be totally myself. The chill up my spine walking towards a gate a departures. Random acts of kindness. Random acts of inclusion. Walking alone. Walking with someone who just wants to walk by my side. Dinner parties. House warmings. martinis. making plans. letting go. consistency. trust. freedom.
It is a duality that makes me unique. I can be one of the most laid back, easy going , patient person you could ever hope to meet. But, I also live with a sense of intensity, passion and sometimes urgency. It is my excitement on display. My soul on my sleeve.
If I am truly following my bliss, I know the universe will continue to shift and morph around me. And, I will embrace the smiles. I must embrace the new landscape even if habit hopes I resist. Step forth if this resonates with your soul. Walk with me, even just for while. Let's leave the drama behind and discover new worlds, new laughter, new smiles.

Friendship

2007-02-17T06:15:00.000-08:00

As a new week prepares to launch, one last look back on the lessons of the last. More than anything, it seemed to be a study of friendship. Commitment and compassion, more than convenience seemed to win my warmth, regardless of distance, drama or disability.
A quick look at the word;
Friendship is a term used to denote co-operative and supportive behaviour between two or more social entities. This article focuses on the notion specific to interpersonal relationships. In this sense, the term connotes a relationship which involves mutual knowledge, esteem, and affection. Friends will welcome each other's company and exhibit loyalty towards each other, often to the point of altruism. Their tastes will usually be similar and may converge, and they will share enjoyable activities. They will also engage in ..fs24field behaviour, such as exchange of advice and the sharing of hardship. A friend is someone who may often demonstrate reciprocating and reflective behaviours. Yet for many, friendship is nothing more than the trust that someone or something will not harm them. Value that is found in friendships is often the result of a friend demonstrating on a consistent basis:
the tendency to desire what is best for each other.
sympathy and empathy.
honesty, perhaps in situations where it may be difficult for others to speak the truth.
mutual understanding.
I think the ability to wrap our minds around the true meaning of friendship has been a bit warped, ironically by sites like this. Perhaps there really should only be a top4 on myspace. Or, maybe they should call it a potential friend list. However, as in all things there is a beauty in the guidelines that constitute friendship. When you keep close the ones who commit to this criteria, you are never truly alone. You will never truly be in need. You will likely never be sad for very long. And, you will always have at least a few who will rejoice to hear of your recent accomplishments and revelations.
When I was 21, a wise older friend imbued in me that it is a mistake to strain against a door of friendship that fights with you to close. We are no longer friends. But, what she said stayed with me. I didn't want to agree. But, the point that if you spread yourself too thin, you end up being a real friend to noone, and none will know you well enough to be there for you. And, if you choose to waste time on those who haven't the time or will to waste time on you, you miss the opportunity to initiate new connections with those who will. I started to get that when I turned 27 and integrated all the segregated groups of friends in my life. I think I get it more this week, to see who's stepped in to the light to lend an ear, a shoulder, an idea or even just a smile. I witnessed the importance of living in the present and not the past when it comes to friendship while watching my friend Liz battle through the emotions of a long time friendship dissolving before her eyes. I saw that "commitment" to friendship when an entire group was ready to give up their night to follow home a friend who'd been kicked out of a club, with no care for the cost of admission already paid. I saw it in a friend who saw my desire to bring the music and creativity back to my life, inviting me into his world to begin the creative process.
And, most of all I found the joy of friendship at its peak, when a far off friend heard a melancholy whisper in my words and without prompting, brought a smile back to my face and reminded me how wonderful the world can be when you hold close the ones who desire the best for you, offering sympathy, empathy, honesty, truth and mutual understanding.
Thanks again, my friend. Don't forget to take that shoreline walk at dawn. In twilight, lies the magic and answers to so many things.
Billy

Letters to Shyloe!

2007-02-01T08:45:00.000-08:00

I've been on holiday this week. Not the kind of holiday where one sips margaritas on a beach or skiis the fresh powder of Whistler. That's coming in April. But, this round of time off, the sleep-ins, the fresh perspective, all of it has uncluttered my mind and recharged my soul. I seem to be charting a new course these days... looking for fulfilling direction and finding it. The most recent example of this was my introduction to "The Secret". A good starting point. It's kick started a struggling engine and set me back on the path toward enlightenment. Clues and puzzle pieces keep floating down around me from Chris and Franco, Tammy and like minded individuals who've randomly appeared in my life.
And, then came Shyloe. It's like sharing the highway with someone at the same speed in the same direction for a few hours and then both pulling in at the same rest stop. Or, taking the Bus with the same stranger on the same route for more than a year and then you just decide to say hello. Well that's how it went. And, I'm really glad I opened the door. I've been presented with a wonderland of new worlds to explore. hopefully he won't mind me sharing some of the insights I've gleaned from our correspondence.
If you've seen and liked "the Secret" or "What the bleep do we know", you must get your hands on the Elegant Universe, a PBS special on the potential mind blowing possibilities suggested by the newest branch of physics, String theory. A huge light has come on in my brain. And, I can't step back into darkness.
My mind has been tripping on the mathematics since I watched it, going to all kinds of places....like what if consciousness is massless energy, like graviton particles that can move from brane to brane (between membranes or universes). That could explain new thought, inspiration, random thought, deja vu, the nagging feeling that someone is calling out to you from somewhere unseen. Maybe there are some of us who are sensitives to other universes, already trying to send messages through graviton encoding. colliding particles like a giant set of symbols, setting the frequency of the "graviton practical enclosed strings" with a resonance that can be interpreted by those with receptive open ended strings at the subatomic level in their brains. Maybe those open ended strings have broken loose from their subatomic grounding through shock or trauma or random mutations. Maybe we are moving towards enlightenment because we are being called or drawn there. It could be the greatest story of awakening ever told, following an inner voice to what is really a call from the other side of space and time.ok...can you tell I did my thesis in script writing? But science or science fiction...there is something very powerful on the horizon.
There was a time in my life that I got the very real sensation that my bubble of space and time had the ability to flux like a murmur in a heart. It only happened three or four times. But, accompanied by this sound that resonated like a whale song, everything would seem to slow down around me...as if I were speeding up. I’d look around and everything would just pulse almost in slow motion...twice it happened prior to an exam..twice just randomly. After 16, I never experienced anything like it again. But, when I was about 22, I had the most incredible experience. I went for a cappuccino with friends at a local coffee shop. We were walking back to my buddy's apt where he needed to do some laundry. All of a sudden, I felt like I was a conduit for all of time and space. I felt like a black jazz musician from the 20's, a house wife, a roman soldier, on and on and on....it wasn’t like I thought I was them...it's just as though they were all passing through me with a collective memory... like all of time and space was squeezed into a thread that was passing through the eye of a needle. I felt like the needle. And then I got it. Everything made sense. Absolutely everything. It was all housed in the two words "I am" which I didn’t even clue in at the time translates into Yahweh or God. I was fully immersed in this sensation for a good half hour, maybe a bit longer. I went back to my friend's and as he did laundry, I sat on his couch staring out the window repeating "I am" and it all made sense...everything. I tried to explain what I was experiencing. But, he simply said he wish he'd ordered a cappuccino too and said he'd be back. I was pretty naive to drugs at the time. But, I am certain this was not the result of a spiked coffee. After that half hour-hour passed, the awareness faded gently, dissipated, moved off into space. I was left with the memory of the experience...an understanding of its power, but not the ability to recall the exact bliss or full awareness.
In my teens, I also had the most amazing experiences with Lucid dreaming....where I'd wake up inside dreams, fully aware I was dreaming. I would then set the course for the most amazing adventures, reminding characters I met in a dream, that I knew I was dreaming and was therefore unfazed by their strangeness, unnerved by their ferocity. I could simply change scene if I chose.
The last 5-10 years have been peppered with interesting moments, strange coincidence and strong intuition. But, I think I've let the routine of living glaze over the magic of living the mysteries of life.
There is a definite pull again towards something bigger and more meaningful. I, too, think I'm undergoing a transformation of sorts, pulling off the carpet to reveal the hardwood, spreading wide the heavy curtains to reacquaint myself with the wonders outside. The voice I mention in my blog is undeniable...a beckoning whisper... to find the music and the bliss. Clues everywhere, and new friends to help piece them together.
I too, am still searching for the perfect balance between paying bills to survive and directing energy towards fully living. I try to tackle the little things I think I'd be stronger without on a one-at-a time basis. I keep searching for clues. And, doors keep opening. I'm someone who tries to help rid friends and acquaintances of their negative thoughts if they are controlled by them. But, in the end we must accept that the path to enlightenment is one that can only be embarked on by the willing hiker. I've learned that cutting ties does not mean a door slammed forever. But, not everyone's ready for the walk. In their time they catch up... Soo much more has been bouncing around in my head. but, I'll leave it here for now. Have a beautiful and creative day.

A Distant Dream

2007-01-16T11:16:00.000-08:00

A dream in emerald meadow lies,

beneath the wild Sumatran skies,

that lights the fire in my eyes,

and leads the way to Paradise.

A thousand stallion black as coal,

crest yonder hill in endless row.

With thund’ring hoof and death in tow,

impale the tranquil morning glow.

A lonely arbor stands in wait,

to save me from my fearful state.

And, as I run with unknown fate,

it plucks me from the earthen slate.

A light within a leafy sea,

reveals an angel watching me.

With song, he sings sweet mysteries,

with lips, a kiss that sets me free....

To dream again the dream that lies,

beneath the wild Sumatran skies,

that fuels the fire in my eyes,

and lights the way to Paradise.

Maybe all creation is both the future and a distant memory. The poem was inspired by the random thoughts of a perfectly imperfect muse. Each word on its own, each idea, singularly held no power, resonated simply without impact. But, together we built a world of stanzas, where solitude and scarcity became partnership and abundance, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, where paradise will be found in the most unassuming, yet most wondrous of all that IS... When the door finally swings open, fully open....we may realize that what we seek is already with us, and the great mystery of life is really only the ability to recognize it.

Worthy of a Wink!

2006-12-31T16:35:00.000-08:00

It is almost an outdated gesture in the world of body language these days. The "Wink". Relegated to images of oily car salesmen, grandfathers who have long since forgotten your name and that creepy guy in home room who just wants to get in your pants. Sadly, the sweet and subtle nuance that playfully masks a deeper sentiment has been distorted almost as much as the meaning of the holidays. Get Drunk, buy sh*&^, "tell it like it is...in your face" mirrors the volume of excess and aggression with which we pass from day to day. But, language is limited, so are funds, liver function and audible reach. While it is said that a picture is worth a thousand words, a look can carry universal complexities, summing up an abyss of pain or mountain of joy with apocolyptic intensity.
While I head out tonight for a rendez-vous with friends and fun, drink and delerium on a collision course with 007, I can't help but to take a passing glance in the review mirror. The '06 brought full time, a condo purchase, a kiss good bye to the Vegas virgin, a stand off with death, many lessons in work place politics, financial stress, the opportunity to bring Christmas to a family with nothing, visits from the past and far abroad, reunions, seeing family climb to higher ground, saying good-bye to friends setting sail for distant lands, a revamped designer wardrobe, tears, fights, anger, laughter, peace, self confidence, more dreams.... Here we are, standing at the precipice between the year that's passed and a blank canvas ripe with desire for the first colourful brushstrokes. I can't find the words to close this chapter on the wild romp that will be remembered on the back of photographs as 2006. So, I'll smile, find meaning in the wounds that scarred and offer a "Wink"...closing my eyes on a moment and the door to what was. With an air of grace and gratitude for all the blessings in my life, I'm ready to greet the new chapter with open arms, a D&G suit, Cesar Paciotti shoes and of course a long stem glass of Cristal. Happy New Year. May you find the path to your dreams in the year that lies ahead!

Whispers from a Tree

2006-12-10T09:02:00.000-08:00

We fill our worlds with the percussion of progress, a symphony of sensation and static. White noise, green machines, roaring roadsters, jubilant jack hammers, hysterical honking, shouting, laughter, slam, screech, "move", "where are you going?", "meet you at..., hurry up, run, I'm going.." Slam, clip clop.

And then...almost unexpectedly, an invitation; a break from routine. The sounds morph, foreign to the ears...then fade. the murmur of quiet chat on a westbound train....and the rhythmic chick-chock of the undercarriage dancing from rail to rail. Past the swing of suburban scenery on the wide screen window..Staring out beyond the view. Hearing a faint and familiar voice. "Come to me".

On the platform, the clock punches out an analog 4:10. It's job is done. A moment to orient. Long Branch. Looks the same. Follow the drones towards the tunnel. Through the tunnel. Five become three. Three become 1. Lakeshore East. Flash. Dairy Queen. Ice-cream on a picnic table. Mid-summer. The Queen has died. Long live Arnold's drive in. Time for a steak burger? No. But, I muse at the thought.

A few more steps. The legion. Its tacky sign lights up the park. The grass shifts and stirs waving me close. I see the path. Like a water slide of concrete telling me I'm next. Waiting for me to just let go. The creek is running high...surfing over rocks and wood. But the gurgle isn't loud enough to muffle a whisper in the wind. "Come to me". I know you. I've always known you. Consumed by you. Burned by you. And yet there you are, the constant in the silence. "Come to me" Simple in your sonnet, yet complex in your calling. You are the balance, the trickster, the lover, the muse. You promise nothing, but offer everything. I am glad the invitation has not been reneged in my absence. You are the whisper from the tree that never fades, found in the silence when the silence finds me.

This day, I keep walking. But, you are part of me as much as the silence is part of the noise. I will be back to taste your sweetness, listen to your song, burn my hand on your fire and soothe it in your stream of consciousness. I cannot say when. Time is for trains and tables. I will pass by when the day is calm enough to remember your call, when it's safe to finally come home.

Dark Night of the Soul

2006-11-26T18:42:00.000-08:00

"While the term dark night of the soul is used broadly, its general meaning — in the field of higher consciousness — is a lengthy and profound absence of light and hope. In the dark night you feel profoundly alone."

Isolation. Sensory Depravation. Solitary Confinement. Absolute Detachment. Distillation of mind from reason. Separation of soul and sensation. Is it the road to enlightenment or the slippery slope towards insanity? In the darkness, there is no hope. Yet, without the darkness, there is no light. So, a choice made, a journey begun. I have engaged the demons, cold and afraid, slopping though the swampy abyss because the future stretches forth as an undefined and unacceptable shadow of the past. Inspiration, enlightenment is on the other side of an uncomfortable unknown. Courage, faith are my companions. Have I breathed deeply enough to get me through to the next assent above dark waters? Time will tell. The more I push forward, the less I can go back. And yet a vision begins to crystalize in the void. (to be cont.)

Colour Wheels and Comic Books

2006-11-19T09:42:00.000-08:00

What a weird and wonderful night; a collision of old and new, retro and revolutionary, favoured friends and new adventure. A destination met with smiles, a journey peppered with fanciful moments. 7:30pm. Button by button, I cocooned myself in a womb of denim and wool as much to shield from the biting wind licking at my neck as the unpredictability of the evening that lay ahead. A class reunion can be a cocktail of competing egos and sour grapes. Fortunately, 10 years can add a lifetime of maturity to even the most memorably insecure. And, the domesticating effect of partnerships and offspring added a sense of calm to the barrage of catch-up conversations..making them more palatable, though some what repetitive. I expected those who showed to be uniform in their desire to show off or size up. But, inebriation truly is the great equilizer, despite any preconceived notion. A few tall boys later and the ice was thawed, unleashing a flood of laughter and good memories. The only awkward moment was watching an old acquaintance standing in the middle of the room, staring blankly past the festive crowd at a windowless wall. Maybe he was playing the path not taken on a projector in his mind. After all, who shows up at 30 to a class reunion high on ecstasy... a question most there asked only with their eyes.
10:30pm. A night that would have only been just beginning 10 years ago was coming to a close, at least for those who now settled into a book or film on your average Saturday night. Call me Peter Pan if you will. But, I'm still a few years away from the sedentary life. There are other nights to catch Sex in the City in syndication. And, I'm on a schedule that has me waking up at 3am though the week. So, I flung my scarf with fighter pilot flair and dared the crystal sky to slow me down. Courageous words for someone who managed to snag a car ride back down town, I know. ;)
11:20 Meet Jack Dylan...a poster art exhibit tucked away in a small second floor gallery on College West. And, Meet Jack Dylan we did. We also met Franco and Alice and Jessex and of course met up with Chris "Fantastik Eddie" Lotts.... a flash from the past with a very unique flavour. Though Jeff, my old class-mate, felt somewhat out of place amongst this new generation of neophiles and urban hipsters... the colour of the characters surrounding us was almost as intoxicating as the art on the walls, the music dancing its way through the narrow space and the countless pints I'd consumed throughout the night. I was gone by 1:30, before the lights grew dim, before the remaining few stumbled down the front steps, supported by tonight's love interest and the wide-eyed exuberance of youth. I was even gone before the ceremonial splifs made their final rounds. But, it wasn't for the feeling of exhaustion. It was just the right time to go. And, that is the greatest blessing of being 10 years out of school: moderation, not for safety's sake, but to hold on to that warm glow that rewards visitors who don't stay past their welcome.
It's funny how many lives we live at once. So many different sides and needs and ways of connecting to the world that absolutely make us who we are. At 22, I had my gay friends, my theatre friends, my school friends, my Montreal friends, my work friends, my family friends. The list goes on. All these were separated by my need to segregate the parts of me that together made me whole. In the years that passed, I learned what wonderful creations emerged when I mixed and matched and integrated all these sides in one. But, on this night, I realized that the social world need not be a big jambalaya stew of who I am. The recipe's refined. I am fully realized when I am free to be the person defined by that environment presently in play. I do not bring the side of me that likes to dance and drink to a mortgage meeting with a bank. I am 100% true to who I am, that side of me which loves to wheel and deal, negotiate and charm. Likewise, I have no interest in wearing a suit and tie to club, unless it has a Valentino cut. The point? Be true to who you are until it no longer feels true to how you feel. Don't throw away the remaining soup. But spice it up with new adventure. It is possible to be free to experience the whims that make life wondrous and at the same still stay committed to friendships, relationships, goals and of course oneself. It just takes knowing who you are. And, on this night a nice reminder of all that is me... from friends that helped mould me 10 years ago to those that enter now to offer new inspiration and fuel the fire of my destiny.

Filters & Foxholes

2006-11-12T09:25:00.000-08:00

I've come to believe the simple mystery of life is this: that every possibility exists in the torrent of forward movement. I am. I connect. I interact. I can control. Simply said; choice is the filter that organizes randomness and defines the path ahead. Without that sieve, we get swept away in the flow of 6 billion, 3 lb. steams of consciousness. Remember, as alluring the ecstasy of chaos, it is the aqueduct that irrigates and nourishes, and the raging floodwaters that obliterates. We are either engineers of our destiny, lost souls consumed by the raging river or prisoners, trapped by the perceived safety of a makeshift foxhole while waiting for the storm to pass. It never passes. It is the cyclone of life.
An astute friend recently said we are approaching a time when we will revisit the items we've stored away in our journeyman's sac. Names, faces, and places will resurface, an opportunity for soul searching, sentiment, reconnecting, new beginnings or final good-byes. She said the tool for this task will simply measure the balance of exchange, the ratio of gift versus grief. The task itself is a sobering one, as parasitic friendships lose their lustre, unhealthy habits reveal themselves as taking up space where inspired thought could form, and the inventory of how much we've learned and how far we've really travelled becomes impossible to ignore.
So, here I am...no longer flitting around like a butterfly, but building wings to savour the sweetness of real flight. Here I am, no longer laid out by the darkness of doubt, but stepping up to demand my due. Here I am no longer satisfied as a fair weather friend, but willing to give everything I have to those who would do the same for me. Such a beautiful balance when the "give" mirrors the "take". When the outward and inward pressures align, even the most fragile of materials can rise to limitless heights and delve to most wondrous depths.

2006-10-17T15:06:00.000-07:00

It sure is sweet being a high roller in the land that rewards the big tip! I couldn't have asked for more from Vegas. We swam with the sharks and played with the fishes, danced with the rich kids at Ceaser’s Pure Lounge, walked the strip with attitude and took the Venetian for 10 bills in less than an hour. By Friday night I was up a grand and a half. So, it was time to shop. Walking into Louis Vuitton and paying with hundreds is pretty common in the other LV, but it felt warm and fuzzy all the same. Even the slots were kind, spitting out several hundred dollar pay-offs. Sweetest moment though had to be shooting down some loud mouth college kids who thought they could offer some tips on black jack. Half an hour later, with purple chips in hand and a personal compliment from the pit boss, they asked if they could see my strategy card. I wished them luck. You should have seen my swagger back from Bally's to where we were staying at Paris. And, it wasn't a result of the countless free Baily's and coffee or rum and cokes I'd consumed at the table. If only every day could match a Friday in Vegas. But, who's complaining. There are sooo many stories to tell from those four days...so many moments...some will stay in Vegas....others might surprize you when we meet up for cocktails. I must thank my cousin Chris for teaching me the etiquette and training me for Vegas. our comp cards show we collectively bet almost 30,000 us this weekend. I'm sure the computer also shows what we won. In the end, if you don't throw it away, you can almost always at least break even. But, bet on the fact that on the wild ride of wins and losses you can live like a king as a high roller in the land of sand dollars that won't disappoint those who can afford to lay out the big tip. Next stop, Atlantic City baby. Spring 2008.

New Adventures!

2006-10-09T15:31:00.000-07:00

Is it after dark, or just before the light? Without watches, we wander across the bridge together. i found something in the forgotten freedom. Fire at my back, BLUE fills my senses. My bag is almost full and yet so very light. There's still some room. I'll be sure to save a some room. Footsteps fading in the sand. Pure shores ahead. Almost there. Almost home. Unknown, yet known. And so it begins.

It is time to create again. The coma of chaos that numbed my mind's eye has lifted. On Thursday, I am flying into the desert. Vegas seems so cliche. But, it will be a journey of everything but. A saber of stimulation that will ignite the senses and shake me from the routine. I long to feel the e-rush of take-off. I want to dance in the footsteps of scorpions. The dry wind up my nose. The rapid fire of bandit boxes and shooter girls. A crash cart of purple chips and cuba libras.

Fear is for the fallen and forgotten. No room for it on the front line. Stepping up again. Sleep evicted from my eyes. Time to court the god of new adventure! Care to join?

Repay, and Never Repeat

2006-09-18T09:30:00.000-07:00

Hmmmm. Round and round we go! Wouldn't it be nice to just hop off the ride for a while? But, that is neither practical nor possible. So. On we go! Two steps forward, on step back. Mild progress. I'm back on the morning show. Everything about it is better except for the hours and the slightly lower ratings. I can handle the "fewer eyeballs". But, the hours. Well, that takes a bit more planning. To nap or not to nap. In the past, not napping left my just a little bit irritable. So, I'll give it a go. Nothing after noon. But, if I’m home before, why not? I'll be soo happy when October arrives. This has been one of the more frustrating, stressful months of my life. there have been some great moments, don't get me wrong. But, the worry and near financial ruin cause by the near death experience of a partner is not something easily taken in stride. Top that off with the shake-ups and sour morale at work and you start to get a sense of the energy of late. I have one more big, and I mean big chunk of change to throw at my "yet to exist" condo. Then I can start to breath again...sort of. Most of what I've spent is borrowed money. But, a little reprieve from the money collectors means all will be a little more manageable. So here I am, facing another round of uncomfortable patterns. Spending money that isn't mine and paying the price with bill time headaches. What's the answer? Perhaps, this time it's REPAY and never repeat! It's going to be one heck of a mountain to climb. but, at least I’m getting used to living paycheck to paycheck. That attitude should pay off in spades a year from now, lord willing. I think goals are key. Keep on the path no matter what life throws at you. Get the papers, keep climbing, keep building til I have the penthouse, the roadster, the beach house, the name on the marquee. If I have to roll ahead in circles, the final curve WILL be well ahead of where the round trip began. That may mean filling leaks in budgetary spending. That may mean closing doors on a few people and things that drain my inventory of energy and cash. So be it. There are no guarantees in life. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. But, when the machine that drives your day becomes a road hazard, strip off the plates and walk a while...till you can afford the glove fit formula one, that will get you to your finish line with time to enjoy the spoils.

In the end it all makes sense. But, in the meantime...

2006-08-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

Why does bad news always seem to come in threes? Why does it seem so patronizing when friends say "you're better off without out them, anyways."? Why do most cars crash within a mile of home? Why do famous last words never seem epic at the time they're being uttered? I guess perspective is lost in the chaos of a storm. And, a tranquil start to a sweet spring day, lulls us into a sense of complacency that offers no protection when a swarm of ill will rockets towards you like a bullet. That may seem dramatic. But, it is easy to relate to being blind-sided by the unfeeling bull run of progress or a colleague's self promotion. On the brightest days, the absence of darkness is only by chance or circumstance or simple timing. And on the darkest days, take comfort that darkness can serve as an important reminder that the brilliant days are not something to take for granted. And in the end, there is always purpose to the night.... never evident in the chaos of the storm. But the tool one crafts to navigate through the bleak path also works to open doors and shore up footing on the wondrous path ahead.

2006-08-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

Connections..... We may spend most of our days trying to satisfy our physical needs. But sometimes you just have to stop and ponder the mysteries of life and our connections to the energies around us. Why is it that some places feel like home and others make you long for it? Why are there people you instantly recognize as compliments to your life’s journey while others conjure a sense of dread? Sometimes fate will crisscross paths until you meet those you’re destined to touch. But, maybe we’re responsible for taking some of the initiative. I love to travel. I love to socialize. I love to venture into the unknown knowing not everything or everyone will set a song inside my soul. Probably it’s mostly for that reason....to cast a net as far and wide as energy will allow, to catch some fireflies, and unicorns and angel dust, love songs, wind chimes. Summer scents and starry skies. But, I can’t fully reprimand the hermit. For the net also welcomes slugs and sludge, dark holes and sharp teeth, disease and despair, soul eaters and parasites. In the moment, the course of the fully lived life is an unsettling roller coaster of highs and lows. The secret to joy just might lie at day’s end, when the wisdom to separate the sand from gold is gleaned. That is the beauty of free will. That is the power of choice. That is the key to joy. Recognize the things that steal your light. And, treasuring the things that fill you from with in. Keep just one slug in a bag of perfect apples and decay takes root. But filter out the sediment and you will always drink the sweetest wine. The hermit thinks he has no worries with the world for he knows it not. But the richer man is he who’s lived and lost and learned to chose his tools and jewels along the path. The pace is really unimportant in the end. But, not choosing is not living. Not recognizing how you connect to the things around you is like stumbling through life blind. I was never one to close a door. I never knew which one to close. The choices have become easier with time. Who knew how easy it can be to delete the darkness, stop the decay? Who knew how easy it could be to accept the gift of angels in our midst? For me, a journal seems to help to clarify how to separate the seed from stone. So too, does a long and unscripted walk. I hope these words wash up in your net. Decide later what to keep or throw. And, I hope yours continue to drift into mine. I’ve slammed a few doors shut today. Feels good. As for coffee, tea or me....? that’s a choice for another day. Today, I’ll sleep with fireflies and unicorns and angel dust, the net washed clean. Dream where random thoughts make sense again. Because of time spent pondering the path ahead, the connections to the things close by and the choices made to leave the weight of worthlessness behind.

Replay, but Never Repeat!

2006-08-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder why even the most amazing songs can become tiresome when played ad nauseam....why a refreshing rain drop to the forehead can become a proven form of torture when repeated again and again...why the most delicious dish can become unpalatable if it is the only course served day after day? I can’t help feeling it’s because of the linear nature of our present lives.... where progress on the journey satisfies...and limbo is as good as hell. The only time the status quo seems acceptable is when a period of stability eventually lends itself to growth. Such a paradox then, by perhaps some inherent misfiring in the very blueprint of our neural pathways, that so many of us circle back to places that offer no nourishment, no growth, no hope. Why do we return to thoughts of ex’s that bled us of our life force? Why do we offer second chances to those who have shown no remorse for their first offense? Why do we repeat the destructive patterns that we recognize in our parents, continuing the cycle of abuse, of drink and drugs, deception, betrayal, negligence, apathy? Perhaps this is the one obstacle along the path of least resistance. A speed-bump that seems insurmountable for some....until finally enough momentum gained from broken hearts and broken dreams, and even broken bones fills this eddy of wasted time and drives the wandering soul forward. "Replay. But, never repeat". That should be a mantra taught to the young while the map to life is clean and simple. Experience. Dream. Fall. Bleed. Laugh. Cry. But, above all learn! No one should be left behind in the patterns of behaviour that seem apparently destructive to everyone but the one circling. "Replay. But, never repeat." Thank god for friends who hear us fall and repeat those words. Thank god for you. And, yes. I have some catching up to do. But, I want to see you there too, past the speed bumps: found again. Miles to go before we sleep. And, there is much work to do...past the past....the wonder of the new.

2006-08-03T22:03:00.000-07:00

The path of least resistance.

In a storm, lightning reaches out with seemingly wild and reckless abandon. But, its course is anything but random. Never will it detour around the simplest path across an electric field from positive to negative charge. So, much of the natural world works that way. Running water passes up the road less travelled for the easy glide on a friction deficient ride. Leaves on trees reach straight for the sun unless external forces intervene. Fire follows fuel. Clouds follow wind. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned in all this. Maybe we complicate things far to much in the thirst to quench our souls. We overlook the wonder only steps away for the expectation that exotic means ever better. We so often throw away the joys we own for the mysterious promise of another. Never allowing yourself to be content may always lead to change. But, when does constant change not just become a circle dance of indecision. I don't say there is anything wrong with challenges and adventures and climbing mountains simply because they're there. But, maybe there's a lesson to be learned in the natural order of things. Try this. Take a day and follow its rhythm..... Wander with the whims of will and see where you end up. You might be surprised how far you go when you allow yourself to walk the spontaneous but surprizingly ordered path of least resistance.

2006-07-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

I typed in "Paradise" and "beach" into my google search engine and here's a sample of what came back.

I've not yet travelled to the Carribean. But, I'll buy that image of paradise in a flash. Mind you, I didn't ask for trees. But the tall trunked, broad leaved dance partners are a nice touch. I've always been partial to trees. They have a very unique energy and add character to an otherwise two dimensional land, or in this case seascape. And, how's that for spacing. Perfect hammock width, I'd say. But, I digress. What interested me in the links that came back was the variety of vistas that easily fit into the pool of what can be considered paradise. It made me ponder over all the times I felt lost, or rather found in a perfect moment. On the Pacific Coast highway north of Carlsbad, I stopped to acknowledge a flawless moment. On the hills overlooking Rome at 2am in ealy June....the chills of joy consumed me. But, I don't believe Paradise is reserved for the grandious. Icecream at the foot of royal york easily paints a brush stroke on that warm and fuzzy canvas. So too does CalliopeHill on North Tea Lake, Sandbanks with my dog, the shoreline of Lac Labelle, fireflies on Cyprus Lake, the grotto on Georgian Bay, the Automotive building at Freakin '98, Buena Vista Park in SF, Gerswin on 51st, dawn at 1500ft, the window view on a transatlantic.... It's as though paradise isn't really a place but a feeling, a perspective, a state of being, a whisper of love that amplifies as it washes over you, the wonder in the newly discovered, the realization of dream that supercedes anything previously imagined. I suppose that's why I love to travel, walk new roads, meet new minds, run boldly into the unknown. Because, through all the wasted efforts, and failed attempts, there is the possiblity, dare I say even probability of finding paradise where you least expect it. And, the only thing better than finding Paradise, is sharing it. So, I hope I meet you on a sunlit, sweetly scented day journeying down that treasured path to Shangi-la.

"Somewhere there's a happy ending, where the sand and sky are bending towards the sea of Paradise.
And if I have to spend a lifetime, chasing clouds and sipping sweet wine, is that not the perfect price,
to finally find the perfect moment, finally dream the perfect dream,
finally catch a little piece of heav'n here on earth, to share it with you when we meet."

2006-07-20T22:44:00.000-07:00

Silence...well, almost. It's one of those nights where my fingers' dance on the computer keyboard resonates with the subtlety of a lame night watchman hobbling down the hall. Where the swoosh of passing cars scream like a vortex consuming my thoughts. Click, click, click... The dish washer seems determined to make me aware of every minute spent labouring on my pots and pans. And, then a lull. Sweet silence.... almost. There's a gentle hum. Is it the incandescent light overhead? Clack. It's off. But, the hum sings on. An almost indiscernible melody hiding just below the audible. A whistle from the street below, more clicking from the maytag. Everything accounted for. A familiar tune.... But, I want to raise the volume on the city's hum.. hard to hear from up here. If it were any earlier, I'd venture out into the night. Just walk and look and listen. Taste the air. Smell the breeze. Connect. Become. It's something I used to do a lot. Just walk. Turn when it felt right to turn. Stop when it felt right to stop. Follow the hum. It always leads me somewhere new. It takes my hand and shows me things I've only dreamed or only just forgot. And, when I’m done my tour of wonderland, somehow it always sees me home. I think I'll reserve part of Saturday for a random romp, a soulful sojourn, to recharge and reconnect and fill the silence with new life, new sound, new inspiration. For now I'll end this dance and rest upon the silence that marks this lonely night. Sweet dreams.

2006-07-18T10:03:00.000-07:00

You litterally had to climb through this hole in the ground (through the overhang) to get down to the cave. But, it was so worth it. The water was pretty cold...But, it was soo warm outside.. I stayed in the bay for a long time. There was a smaller lake closer to our camsite too which was much warmer. I swam a lot this weekend. After we packed up on Sunday, I drove to my sister's cottage in Southampton and swam in lake Huron with my niece and nephew. It was a great day of catching up with family I hadn't seen since Christmas. Another three hours of driving the back roads on midwestern Ontario and it was home sweet home. I'll sleep when I'm old. ;)

2006-07-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the "grotto". This picture doesn't even do it justice. But, the real thing was a slice of Paradise capping off a very busy and exciting week! Last Wednesday, I woke up at 3:15am to race into work for the morning show. I was loaded down with luggage because right after the show...it was a taxi ride to the train station and a little via1 service.. Destination: Kingston. We filmed all day and cut a story before crashing at 11pm. Tourism Kingston put us up at the 4points. It was verrrry comfortable lodgings. The next day I was up at 4:30am and setting up at Fort Henry at 5:30 for morning and noon broadcasts. What a view! I was also hopped up on caffeine. So, I wasn't in too bad shape. At 2 we boarded the Island Queen for a 3 hour tour of the 1000 Islands. I even got to steer the boat. hehe. We had a great dinner on the tourism board at the Chien Noir...saweet. Then a bit more editing before crashing again at about 11:00pm. Up at 4:30am and down to confederation Park to broadcast from the waterfront in the midst of Busker's Rendez-vous....so much fun. After a great brunch to wrap up a great escape to Kingston...we were back on the train. We arrived at Union at about 4pm. I grabbed a rental....chnged clothes and then it was off to Midland to see the folks. The next morning at 8am I was on the road again...this ime to join Katherin, Eva, Tanya, Justin and Fiona at Bruce Peninsula National Park. I arrived at 12pm and within minutes we were off on a caving and hiking expedition that lead to the Bay. Above you see the grotto. Belove you will see the cave. It was amazing. The light was coming up through the water...as an underground passage lead out to the bay. It was like being in the Greek Isles.

Another new beginning

2006-07-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

Life.... a house built on the foundation of small wonders and new beginnings. Just when you think you’re about to master your own reality, something or someone enters your life to send your thoughts to brave new worlds.
Meet Mohave, my cousin’s 4 month old. He just came back from a summer spent tavelling Europe with his two moms. I would really like to have a chat with him. "Some pablum for you thoughts", I’d say. I think he’d just smile and wait for me to make silly faces. But, deep down I think he holds some answers to the road that lies ahead. Maybe when he’s old enough to form his gurgles into coherent sentences, he might teach me how to build a bigger house built on the foundation of small wonders and new beginnings.

2006-07-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

Trying to figure out the picture/profile thing...bare with me. :)

A New Beginning

2006-07-04T22:59:00.000-07:00

Change can often feel like sudden death and rebirth! It can be destabilizing and intense and wonderful at the same time. It can creep up on you...Sometimes it comes in small doses. And, sometimes it rocks your world. But, at some point...there is the change like no other that propels you somewhere you never imagined...opens the doors on strange new worlds from which it would be near impossible to find your way back. You turn to the past but see nothing familiar. You look to the future and see only your dreams.
There is terminology in meteorology called "point of free convection." It is the point where clouds no longer need support from anything lifting them up to fire into thunderstorms. They start to explode upwards on their own momentum..(because condensation creates heat, heat rises, rising air into colder air produces condensation which creates heat and so on)....It only happens at a certain point of altitude based on air temperature and humidity. But, until they reach that point, they need to be propelled by some external factor.. Before that, they are simply waiting for fate to just give them a push. No matter how intense their desires or dreams...they just drift and float.
I think life works like that sometimes too. You can work incredibly hard....dream incredibly big....but it seems it's up to chance or opportunity or fate to guide you to the door behind which everything ignites. That door opened up for me three years ago September. And, what a wild ride it's been. Sometimes it feels like I died the day I took a chance and walked away from a predictable future. Maybe part of me did. But, as I'm about to rocket forth one more time I wont stop to ask if I am dead or dreaming. I'll just enjoy the Vanilla Skies.
Have a beautiful day!
"Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it, boldness has genius, power, and magic in it." Johann Wolfgang van Goethe