Celebrations :|| (Airdrie, Yoho, Kootenay, Seattle)

“Are you having a party?

Yes.
It’s called
’the rest of my life’”

June 26, 2023
11:07PM Airdrie 2:07 Lunenburg

I love it.
It’s so cozy.
The firm bed. Familiar sheets, newly washed, smell of fresh laundry, cool evening air. Silence.

Same space, new colour - soft rosy pink.
Slightly rearranged mementos, old books reappearing in new places.

That anime poster. Eden of the East. Merry, merry go round. Round and round in circles. Overlooking city on water destruction in fuzzy pastels, a gaze, together, into the distance, across the horizon. To what?

The feeling of rest.

That. That is what home yearns to be. Can be. In refreshed moments of perpsective.
That’s why we return. After so eagerly escaping.

Lady bird.
Flying far away just to come back. Just to rest. To be loved. To remember small monumental loves, of the familiar.

I love it here.
Finally, time, to sleep in my own bed.

No matter how else blissful, magical, exhilarating - those other worlds -
”I would still choose this one here.” With you.

Back. Hello again. It’s me.

June 27, 2023
7:23AM Airdrie AB

I wish you the best. That you continue to be grounded through people who love and need you. That in your stability you are wild and free, and safe, and at peace.

Lady bird. Highschool scenes that tuck at our nostalgia.

We wandered like that. Loitered around.
We fought with our moms like that.
We wasted time and partied and acted selfishly without giving a damn about others like that.
Laughing endless empty nights away.
Dreaming rebelling living in some wildly different freedom.

Today I’d like to take a moment.
A long moment. Myself.
Finish archiving, “catch up” on journaling. Write thank you notes.
Let it be complete.

And then, next. Allow yourself to continue being in the moment you are in.

There’s a time for reminiscing. There’s a time for living.

I am humbly proud - of this blessed blissful time of my life. We were, are, living the dream.
This is it.

Different eras, different wildness.

Hop, skip, and a jump away. Stuck in my head.
”It’s (still) an adventure”
True. Let’s keep just being silly, childlike. Live. Eat. Music.
Thanks Keji. Thanks turtle.

“What does the Bluenose know?”

June 28, 2023
7:20AM Airdrie AB

A bookstore owner, caretaker. A little space, safe space to facilitate, nurture connections. Knowing these old friends who pass through- the pages, the stories, the people.
Having a simple ‘daily’ life.
Is that what you would have imagined? 

A little huge heart. Waterfront nook to inherit, honour, call home. Day in, day out. Pop by the market, stroll along the boardwalk, read reread all the ancient languages and memories, being a connector between the books and their new friends. 

That’s a kind of magic. 
“Settling down”. 
A career. A family. A duty. A role to play however large however small, in comparison to what? 
We just need to live humbly. 
Do something worthwhile, through consistency, commitment. Care, love, attention. 

We could put a piano there.
We could have concerts, poetry readings, open mics, jams, art classes, workshops, parties, cocktails, tapas, boardgames. 
A space where people are welcome, where people feel the lineage of warmth before even one word is exchanged. 
It’s not about changing the world. 
We don’t have to run far for all our adventures. 
Simply. Simply profound. 

Could it be? 

June 29, 2023
7:33AM Airdrie

2012. Darvn was so small then.
Can’t breathe. Laughing. Garbage bags sucked up to our skins. Wind percussion, rain percussion, thunder, fresh breeze, smell of cement freshly showered, heat evaporating. 

I love thee way you decorated the green room.
Look at those photos, the newspaper articles. How lovely. They will also become part of the house in another 10 years. 2032. 

We don’t actually need to possess anything. 
We belong to everything. We don’t exclusively own any part of this creation. What a silly game, though fun. Playing pretend, accumulating this house, that land. Assigning ourselves ‘ownership’. 

A land of our own. 
Why? 
We all just want a space to belong to, to rest. To be allowed. Or is it for some, a desperate attempt at control again? At weighing and measuring meaning and value? 

If it’s ours we can protect it. Stay. Root. The terror and longing for permanence. 
So what? 
Is having really better than imagining? 

We tire easily of routines, yet we are grounded by them. A little life in a cottage, or a wild adventure on the streets?

You’ve found your answer, though.
You know what brings you meaning. 

Just, 

June 30, 2023
8:02AM Airdrie 

“The Present” 
moment
gift. 

What did you do this morning? 
Welp. This is a poem. 

We stretched, arms in air, hop skip jump, talked about massaging head, brushing hair, shampoo, growing hair out, laugh, notice fishy pond water, the fresh early morning breeze, sun peaking out, talk about trees, fires, ‘normal things’. Posture, health, pain. Life. 

That’s all. 
Eat well, drink well, play well. Joy. Be. 
That’s all. “Isn’t that what life comes down to. So why not.” 

You’re energetic, you’re in good health, you’re content in some way to be here and keep on protecting your home. 

Back track - 
early morning, earlier, starting with a big hug. “Good morning.” 
I tried the corn flour you got for pancakes today. Not as fluffy but so nutty and flavourful - with chestnuts. I make a watered down latte for you. You want a cookie with that. 
It’s the summer holidays. 
Another summer, another year, another morning. 
Daily poems. 

For now, we still have this company. You will nag and worry, always. Preparing just in case. “Little heart.” You worry so we can be wild bold and free. So we can discover the unexpected in our carelessness. 
Every moment is a gift. 
Today, I really like being here. 

“Such a curious thing
to discover
pieces of yourself
in the most unlikely places 

How much we forget
“cooking projects” 

All the things we’ve made, loved, consumed 

“Variations on a theme of our humanity” 

July 1, 2023
2:20PM Kicking Horse BC 

Happy.
Sleepy.
Noon beer in open air. Homemade 包子, pizza, discount sushi, hammocks go up, mom giggles like a schoolgirl. “I’m looking at the sky, the trees, thee clouds.” Darvn laughs like a clown. Dad hammering nails into the tent. “The last time we all camped together must have been over 10 years ago, right?” 

Simple. 
Spoiled. Mom and Dad taking care of everything. Cooking, packing, worrying and getting up at 5:30AM so we don’t have to do a thing. 

Nap, eat, swing suspended between trees. How curious it is to be elevated from the ground, floating, rocking to the natural rhythm of the wind, of gravity. 
Majestic rocky mountains surrounding us from all sides. Milky white stream. Wind whispering. Sound of the highway, distant trains. Gentle breeze, sun peaking in and out. 
A book. Pen. Notebook. 

That landscape of West Calgary. On the way to Banff - it still doesn’t get any more ‘perfect’ than that. Perfect as in, the most tender, warm, precious part to my heart. That endless open field, farm, prairie land with mountains in the distance. The cows and horses lounging, wandering leisurely. The space and calm. This kind of curvature of the earth that is only felt here in this little part of the world. 

It’s always a ‘hassle’ to get started. All the work, thought, preparation. 
But hey, now, we’ve set up camp. 
Now we nap, stroll, build a fire, grill lamb skewers, pop open cold beer, play cards, and lie under the stars. 

“That’s all.” 
That’s all it ever needed to be. 
Thank you.

“A Walk in the Past”

Old hemlocks, sweet
pines, rock paths
climbing uphill to open up
to the formidable Rockies
and
the screeching of
the cargo train
1881

history in the tracks,
memories, people,
now
our silent laughter
climbing the train latter, balancing
on the metal tracks

Walking on time
energies, spirits,
Who have sweat and bled and laughed here too?

The train departs
We descent

Now, living the dreams we promised
Smell the crackling of campfire
gathered around the warmth
miniRig playlist
Lamb skewers
bantering, nagging, arguing

This kind of familiar blessedness

July 2, 2023
7:43M Kickinghorse BC

Crackling of campfire warming our feet. Fresh mountain morning air. Smoke, ash, cast-iron, black sesame pancakes, hot almond milk. You’re happy. You just want to play fire, you say. Everything tastes different, better on the open wood fire flames.

The light changes infinitely each time we go wash dishes. Waning, cloudy, dusk, the unexpected golden rays only lighting up the peak of the mountains. The deep mysterious hint of blue and residue glow at 11pm. Now, the soft rising, early morning.

Huddled inside the tent. Cross-legged. One little florescent flashlight swinging from top of the tent, barely lighting up the cards in our hands. A feast - lamb, chicken, roasted potatoes, homemade meatballs, flatbread, noodles, eggs, pizza, baozi, veggies, dips, fruits, beer…

A bat show.
Silly playfulness boldly entertaining a new community of gatherers outside. Open air. Laughter, learning. Everything.

Everything when in the backdrop of these gigantic ‘young’ ancients, the smell and flavour of everything cooked, roasted, grilled on the wood-fire.

Everything’s different yet familiar.

Crackling. The sound of warmth. Life.

We are here.
We are living. Look at that light.
The meatballs continue simmering. So many smells, so many sounds. So many possibilities being realized.

July 4, 2023
7:12AM Airdrie AB

Let’s review. How important it is to practice remembering. To one self, to one’s loves, to all the respect we must holld for our absurd little existences.

“No, we haven’t been here.” “Yes, we have.” “This was terrible, boring. I’ve already seen this trail.”
Hey.
Fresh. Fresh perspective on the familiar.

What is fresh? New? No. Not all.

How we have an experience of course depends on being in the moment. But also largely dependent on all the ways we review, process, frame, and honour that experience afterwards.
We know this. This is tested and our truths.

So, we must practice what is important.
Moments can be captured. Fragments, scents, textures, a sentiment. And that is worthwhile.

1. Sitting by the fire late into the evening with mom, toasting our cotton blanket, wrapping ourselves in fluffy marshmallow smokey warmth while gazing at the stars, catching that one bright meteor.

2. Sitting at the picnic table after Marble Canyon, Dad being so cheerful, setting up another picnic, devouring leftovers together, beer, nuts, sunflower seeds while playing cards.

3. Laughing together.
   How ridiculous we were gathered around the campfire for light and heat and still drawing cards out of a little white bucket. Smoke, ash, everywhere in our hair faces clothes. Still playing. Still arguing. Still laughing.

July 5, 2023
8:57AM Airdrie AB

60.
We spend so much energy to make something special. We hope the intention carries through. Does special make you feel more sad and alone. Or depressed?
’20 more years, and that’s good enough…’

Black forest cake, it’s called. Golden candles. Honey wine from Nova Scotia. 30 dollars! 30 dollars thin steak! A walk. Many different kinds of walks. Near car accidents. The frustration, the doom.

Knowing when to be careful and try to prevent, predict, prepare, and when to trust the absurdity of the moment. That’s the way it is.

We all tried our best. Put in the effort.
Gathering ingredients, gathering video footage. Laughing together because of an opportunity to reminisce. Making a memory capsule. 100 noodles, lunch feast. Hours of gruesome grind in the traffic. Late. Always late. Life and death late. Always behind, always choosing the wrong line wrong path wrong life.

Mediating, trying, bleeding soul energy to uplift spirits. That’s my role. I just want to go home and sleep.

We hope you know. We all tried our best. We’ve done well, the past 20 some years that I could remember. All the things we could be proud of, the things to let go.

We all wish we could be perfect pleasant people.
But better than perfect, is just
just
just the way it is. Now. Like this. Another slice of real.

July 6, 2023
7:44AM Airdrie AB

Self-pity party.
Control. Self-destruct. The wallowing, indulgence in ‘negativity’. Negative emotions. “Could be worse”. The illusion of control. Letting one have their sadness. Anger.

Pity and cuteness.
Cute self-pity. A child, a helpless being, embarrassed, weak, small, lacking control of their emotions. Feeling pity and affection, tenderness for oneself and one’s suffering.
Nobody knows. Nobody understands.
Teenage sentiments. The injustice.
Stoic romantic. How much to indulge in ‘why bother’. Pulling away. Heart shaped foam in my mug.

Selfishness. Greed. Overabundance.
Taking too much for oneself.

Sometimes we don’t want to share. Sharing is somehow letting go of control. Emotions stories truths that are no longe yours, that you can hardly remember or understand what they were supposed to be in the first place.
Supposed to be.
”Whose fault.” Doesn’t matter.

Sitting through another person’s void is such a gruesome torture. Why can’t we remove ourselves inn those moments. To know you’re an energy sucking parasite, bringing everyone down.

Mediate. Uplift.

What on earth is this cycle. Is cycling the same as being stuck? The illusion of movement. But actually,
Do we want to be stuck?

July 7, 2023
7:46AM Airdrie

Insufferable.
Wondrous whoever programmed us like this.
What a Trickster.

We can’t take so much of the heavy sighs, the self-deprecation. The isolation. Not just ‘negativity’ but something so worn, pitiful, defeated, rotting away, suffocated, suppressed.
”Old” is not the world.
Something useless, forsaken. But what is use? What after being useful. Needing something to need you?

Go. Find new beliefs. Live for yourselves, please.

Let us go.

July 8, 2023
8:29AM Seattle WA

Hodgepodge of memories.

Winter - the isolation amongst masses, alone in that Starbucks, the heartworn, eye-dried, beaten paralysis, emptiness, numb. The musical selfie with mom, top of the tower, Nutcracker with Darvn, some kind of timeless walking from the pier of the cruise to who knows where.

And we reminisce about times shared. We are still somehow the same. Time spent in boredom yet so deeply engrained. When emptiness allowed such thrilling noticing to happen.

July 9, 2023
9:38AM Seattle

A family affair.
This is what you dreamed of. These energies colliding. The mega family gathering. Like a TV show, yet right in front of you, yet as if in a parallel universe where you can’t touch or speak to anyone.

Generations across, embracing, laughing, nagging, teaming up. Two families coming together. Children, husbands, aunts and uncles, cousins distantly related. The alpha female bearing so much calm, grace, so experienced and collected at hosting, at easing the chaos, hugging, radiating warm to everyone, perfectly curled hair. Dad working away dish by dish at the kitchen, telling us to go pick the fresh blueberries from the garden. Nieces and nephews screaming and wrecking adorable chaos.

Endless crab, salmon, shrimp, pork adobo, BBQ pork, beef stew, steak and onions, mountains of cherries, fresh mango sponge cake, homemade cheesecake, pudding, cupcakes, “oh we forgot about the fruit salad!”

A prayer. Thank you, for bringing us together here today.

To be a witness of this. To be the ‘adopted’ sister who gets a taste of the life, the ‘normal’ regular choreography inside outside around within throughout a house like this. Always filled with relations dropping by, always filled with bountiful nourishment for all, always bustling with rhythms and tones and different loves and dramas and ages and smells and textures and sounds.

Mom and dad. Everyone. The warmth. The real.
”Family”. Could it be?

July 10, 2023
9:14AM Seattle

:|| repeat.

Live, laugh, love. Do it all again.
Wake up with the same person, take the same walk at the same time, eat the same breakfast, listen to the same songs, do the same chores, love the same loves. Do it all again.
Repeat.

Our love for what is familiar.

Marvelous.

At the end of the day, on that death bed, or better yet, the grass or field or snow - what we are grateful for are being surrounded by the same. The known familiar yet ever more mysterious magical unknowable loves -people, places, foods, sounds, routines.

That’s all.
That’s all.

We hear a song. We want to weep.

Fairytales.

We see a person we want to touch, hug, feel the body heat from. So viscerally. Out of some projection of our desire - to be there, to have already built that familiar through the patience, responsibility, daily work, blessing, privilege of repetition.

Fresh perspective on the familiar. Again.

The music on the dance floor still ringing in our ears. The bubbles. The lights. The feeling of moving our bodies to the beat. The joy and intense melancholy as we reach and pop the bubbles. Faces smiling laughing gleaming. Making a moment of eye contact, is it longing or tension or something imagined.

This kind of alone togetherness. This bizarre flavour.

Was that it? The feeling of a ‘crush’. The wanting of something that could be so close yet so hardly imagined. To want to hold someone. Just to stand next to someone. To toast. To be home cuddling with a kitty. To eat late night McDonalds chicken nuggets.

That’s it. That’s all.