We can be called many things. Facilitators, curators, rememberers of ancient languages before words.
Or we can all just be called Kiki. Derpy, hopeful, moody teenage witche struggling with the meaning of her magic and attempting to play some small part in delivering something, anything that brings people joy.
That’s all.
So simple yet so impossibly paradoxical, tangled, overwhelming.
Read MoreThe belief is still stronger than the doubt. The love is still stronger than the coldness. That’s how we keep moving along. A beautiful kind of reclaiming of innocence, joy, playfulness. Of love, where it all starts and returns to. That’s all. That’s everything. Everything matters. We want it so deeply, passionately, truthfully, that we will it into existence in this reality. That’s how we do magic.
Read MoreAs I’m sitting here at the airport, ready, ready, truly ready to return home to Canada, not because I am exhausted or lost or lonely, but because I am so content, fulfilled, recharged AND energized by these four months here - I’m once again repeating my gratitude, my trust, my promises to myself and through myself, all my relations. With immortal tenderness, some final snippets from a blessed last few days co-existing, co-creating with this mystical universe. It’s been magically real, Europe. Until July! <3
Read MoreWhat is it about the power that is untethered when we put on a mask, a costume? When we take on different identities, roles. When we can exist anonymously. How will we behave, act, interact? Infinitely curious, the dichotomy of dark and light, ‘evil’ or good. Throwing a mischievous prank, or handing out gifts and candy. Trick or treat, you never know. You stretch out your hand up towards these bizarre, terrifying, grinning or weeping or contorted masks, and your heart races, not knowing whether you’ll be hit next by a confetti bomb, or offered a bouquet of mimosa flowers. But regardless, you laugh. It’s all wondrously humoured. Bad or good fortune. It’s all one experience, one process. Giving and receiving as randomly as the spirit moves us. The playfulness and spontaneity and instinctive nature of it all. Paradoxes coexisting. Sublime.
Read MoreAgain, what is a Chinese restaurant?
All this variety of food, flavours, textures, nostalgic tastes, the traditional ‘tacky’ outdated decor. The ‘cheapness’. In that ‘cheapness’, all the warmth and comfort and endearment of what? Home, house, building a house, a life, a survival.
To feed people.
With a grin. Eyes squinting. Rushing back and forth.
Welcomed. Respected. Really, anyone can come. Come in. Welcome.
It’s a kind of safe haven. That you’ve created.
Theres a sublime, beautiful honour in that. A kind of quiet, understated, undervalued heroism of mothers, of immigrants, of warriors. People on the margins. We protect and feed each other.
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