good night sweet prince

just keepin' it real

Ike came to me 15 years ago.
I was on my way out the door to work on a shoot. It was 6 am so I almost didn't see the tiny ball of black fluff on my doorstep.

At first I didn't know what to do. I already had 2 cats. But I took him in and put him in the bathroom until I could get back home at the end of the day.

He loved me right away, but I had no intention of keeping him. I looked for a home but had no takers. In a couple of days I knew I was kidding myself. We were in love and he wasn't going anywhere.


Ike was the strong silent type.
He was a one-woman man.

But as we know, the things we love, we lose.
On December 22 he left me.

He was declining, probably with cancer, and I had to make the hardest decision I had ever made. But it was the last kindness I could show him.

Dr. Julia of the Atlantic Cat Hospital was wonderful. She came to my house so that Ike's last moments could be in his familiar surroundings. His last moments were spent in my arms as I told him how much I loved him.

How fortunate for me to have had this beautiful soul in my life for so long.

Good night Big Man.
I won't forget you.

Thanks for all the love and comfort you brought me.

the power of one

Tonight is crisp and clear. One of those true Autumn nights for sweaters, scarves and gloves; for walking through leaves and the wafting smell of woodsmoke. There is something in the air. More than the vibrancy of Fall. There is a buzz.
It has taken over social media, coffee shops, offices, grocery store line-ups.
It is the topic on the lips of many citizens.

It is election night in Canada.

The road to this night has been long- the longest in Canadian election history. It was a battle. We are tired and bloody. But we didn't sit in apathetic trenches, my friends. Oh no. We fucking fought back.
Somewhere, somehow, some time ago, Canadians had become apathetic to the democratic process. Some said it was the youth vote that was missing. Voter turn-outs have been dried to a mere trickle.
And we had a man in power that left us feeling powerless.
But the cry went out, and we didn't turn our heads back to the Blue Jays game. We stood and we voted.

I have never been so proud to be a Canadian.
I have never been so proud of us


For 10 years we had a Prime Minister who did great damage to our country.
Steven Harper brought out the worst in us. He played on our fears and turned us against ourselves. We became suspicious. We placed blame. But sadly, it didn't take much.

We lived the fairytale that had gone wrong.
As in all fairytales there is a smiling villain. And as all good-hearted villagers, we succumbed to the curse that turned us into mindless sleepwalkers. Of course we knew that things were wrong but the villain just turned his mouth up at the corners and ignored our protests. But as all villains, his downfall was his arrogance and he underestimated us.

And we stood up at the voting booths. And we are being heard.

Steve didn't count on the people he discounted, banding together. Each group he overlooked, deemed no threat, unimportant.. Aboriginals, women, Muslims, artists, students, the poor.. all united with a common goal.
A feeling emerged: Don't get mad, get Stephen.

And we did.

As I sit here watching election results there is a red surge- The Liberal Party is sweeping across the country. It's greater than any of us could imagine. A majority government.

Honestly, I would have preferred to see a minority government with an NDP opposition, but I'll take what we can get. One thing at a time.


There's a huge mess to clean up and I hope that Justin Trudeau can reverse some of the damage, from environmental to economic. But for now we can all just breathe in relief. The oppressive regime is dead. We the people have spoken.

We may be polite, we may be peaceful, but don't ever underestimate us.
Don't ever disregard The Power Of One.

once more with feeling

Best part of the whole weekend

One more ocean swim.

It might be the last one of the season so it is fitting that it is on Thanksgiving.

Thanks Ocean, you've been amazing, as always.

unplugged

I unplugged

This long holiday weekend was spent with no phone or social media or access to news of any kind.
I lived in my little holiday bubble.

At first it seemed so simple, but then I realized I was automatically going to check email. I did this frequently. I made a conscious effort to note how many times I went to check email. Or Twitter. Or Facebook.
Conclusion: A lot.

At first I turned off the computer, but then realized that I could accomplish some writing and cleaning out photo libraries, so I turned off the wifi instead.

Here's what I did in just 24 hours:

Read, wrote, edited and cleared out hundreds of photos, cleaned out the fridge, laundry, cooked, baked, walked, organized, threw out a chair, sorted clothes, started a box for the thrift store, watched a marathon of the old Bewitched series (that's right,  I own the series... don't judge), slept


How I feel:

Amazing, accomplished, rested, calm.



The plan was to turn on and tune in today, but I have to say, I'm actually reluctant to reconnect. I'm dragging it out, the way an addict pushes for one more hour of sobriety, the way a runner pushes herself to just one more mile. Or at least as I imagine, having never been an addict or a runner. While I do not run  (couldn't even run for a donut) I do marathons of social media every day. It's part of my work, and as with most of us, part of my life.


This self-imposed retreat has been good for me.
Although I am solitary by nature, being alone really isn't the same with the reach of those social tentacles.

Maybe I'll just give it another hour...


UPDATE..
Well I did turn on the phone eventually to 17 texts and my email blew up. But qu'elle suprise, nobody died.
It was worth every unplugged minute

giving thanks (thankfully) alone

I'm off people.

Nothing is wrong.
I'm not sad or blue. Or worse.
I am simply recharging.

Life can get so congested and clogged with people; with energy. Good, bad, negative, positive, it doesn't much matter. I find it all draining. And it is difficult to explain that without hurt feelings, misunderstanding and concern that it is something more.

It isn't.

I am an introvert.
Many people find that surprising because my work is so very social, my personality outgoing.
I work hard at it. It isn't fake, but sometimes it is forced.
Other introverts get it. It's not that we are anti social, but socializing drains us. Extroverted personalities seem to thrive on the company of others. Introverts like me, not so much.

I am an emotional sponge, absorbing the energies of those around me. Not in an airy-fairy way. Or maybe it is. I struggle to explain how exhausting I find it to be around others for long periods of time. It doesn't matter the person- someone close to me, someone I've just met. People I love.
It's not you, it's me. Conversation (especially small talk) is consuming. I develop Screaming Head. This is what happens inside while the outside smiles and nods and says "No!".. "Really?" "Interesting".. and whatever acceptable one-liners I can use to deflect. Inside I am screaming "Shut Up. Shut. Up. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. " with no mouth because the mouth is too busy smiling.

This weekend was to be spent in the company of life long friends I consider extended family.
I was looking forward to being in the old farmhouse, to taking drives and photographing but then extra cousins and girlfriends of cousins and sisters of girlfriends of cousins were also coming to share our Thanksgiving weekend.

So I bailed.
The dynamic of my restful weekend changed with this information. At first, I didn't react. But my body did.
Without realizing it, my stomach, which is the center where the truth sits in me, started to ache. I didn't pay much attention but it sat quietly twisting while I couldn't quite put my finger on it. At some point I realized I was anxious. I was sweating. It didn't take long to figure out why.
In the past I would have gone anyway, to avoid disappointing people and disrupting plans. But I would have spent a weekend being miserable on the inside, fighting panic and
Screaming Head would happen.


I've shut off the phone. I didn't shut off the computer, as I do want to catch up on some writing, but I am avoiding all Social Media and news.

It is about Self Care. It is about knowing that next week I return to a busy pace and the energies of many and that in order to do that, I need to do this.


I am Thankful.

I am thankful for solid people in my life who are accommodating even if they don't quite get it, who try not to take it personally and respect my boundaries.

I am thankful for liking my own company, for needing to be alone and listening to my gut.

I am thankful for overcast, windy Autumn Sundays, for CBC Classical stations, for puttering around the house and for the smell of my own little Thanksgiving dinner roasting in the oven. For multicoloured carrots and squash and apples and all the other products of the Harvest.

too bad the internets hasn't figured out scratch n sniff yet..

And I'm thankful for world that still wants me in it, even though I withdraw so often.

mermaid's melancholy

I wish I could explain it.
Obsession. Addiction.
That's probably how others see it.

I wish I could explain how it makes me feel.
How fundamental it is to my well-being.
To my being well.

It has been said that there are those who are born with the salt water in their veins and it circulates in a briny course that pumps straight to the heart.
Without it they would die.

I believe this to be true.

When I was a child, nothing calmed me like the ocean. As an adult it is the same.

To take that first plunge, to feel the water surround and support every part of me, it is like exhaling after holding your breath for a very long time.

I am weightless. I belong to something.

So it is hard at this time of year, knowing each swim, each visit to the beach could be my last for the season.  It makes me edgy, uneasy. I am in denial. Panic rises like the tide.

But not today. Today there is reprieve. The air has cooled but the water is still warm (ish).


Today I can swim.

summer lovin'

Life has handed me a glorious opportunity this year.
I have been able to take the summer off.

There were a couple of days here and there to which I had committed but for the most part, me and the Summer were gonna make out in the tall grass. We were gonna frolic in the sand, exchange salty kisses in the ocean.

Winter was like a bad long-term relationship and once we finally broke up, I flirted with Spring, but really, Spring is just a fling... but Summer.. oh we had something special.
We had plans.

It couldn't have been simpler . There were only 2 things on the list:

1. Swim

2. Write


I swam

1 out of 2 ain't bad.


Sorry, Unfinished Novel, perhaps you and I will snuggle when it gets a bit cooler.  But Summer and I still have a lot of hot dates.

happy solstice

Five months ago I sat here in this cottage by the sea while another winter storm beat at the windows.

Today sit on in the garden, listening to birds in the trees, frogs in the pond and the waves saying hello to the shore.

Today the sun seems to stand still. It is the longest day of the year.

We've come through the darkness.

Hello Summer.

life

deliciously obvious metaphor 

at the feet of giants

For me, the most moving monuments in Washington were the Lincoln Memorial and the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial

Here were two men, fighting the same cause, 100 years between them. And both men were killed  for what they believed. 

I found it very humbling to stand there at the feet of these great men of principle. 

Also impressive is the memorial to Thomas Jefferson, who opposed slavery and whose eloquent words helped shape a nation...

I am always amazed at those giants who have left their mark splashed across history's pages

and there it was

Spring came in a breath.
It flew in. Or rather, I flew in to Spring.
And it was as lovely as I had hoped.

Washington DC played host to millions of people for the Cherry Blossom Festival.

It truly is a wonderful city. The last two times I have been in DC I've didn't have a chance to explore and appreciate it as I did this time. It is so wonderful to see in person the monuments and landmarks that appear in so many movies, television shows and photographs. And history.

And seeing it through the blossoms of thousands of cherry trees made it even better.
It was a photog's dream.

Everywhere was a cloud of pink and white. 

The majority of the trees are around the Tidal Basin, accented with the sight of many familiar landmarks and monuments. 

nothing says spring like blossoms bursting around a great phallic symbol 

millions come to see the blossoms.. I believe they were all there on this day

It was so uplifting to be where everything was growing 

When I left Halifax there was three feet of ice. A few hours later it was soft spring perfectly popping pinks.

Instantly joyous. 

springing spring

a real snow bird

This morning it snowed. Again.

It started in January and it hasn't stopped. 

Piles and banks of snow.

And this morning it snowed again. 

Many Nova Scotians woke up bitter at the sight.

As for me,  I've done what I've done for the last two months- I've decided to see the beauty in it.
And then I take photos. 

even the birds be like "what the f-??"

But there is another reason I'm not bitter about the weather. 

Tomorrow I won't have to worry about the snow. 

Tomorrow I will see Spring. 

Tomorrow I will head to Washington, DC for the Cherry Blossom Festival. 

I realize I may sound smug. That is not my intent. 

We've all hated those people hitting the tanning beds for trips to Cuba, DR or Jamaica this winter.
I don't mean to rub it in. 

But at this point it is every snowman for himself.
It's not about a Caribbean vacation, it's about seeing something bloom. 

Although I've been to DC before, I have never been during cherry blossom time and I look forward to taking so many many pictures.

not my picture, but I hope to take lots more like it

The last time I was there I lost all my photos of the monuments so I look forward to getting those shots again.  But mostly, I'm looking forward to the smell. The fragrance of grass and mud and blossoms. The smell of Spring. 

I'm also looking forward to not wearing boots. Or coats. Or layers of clothing.
And temperatures above 0 °C

um.. I'll take the one on the right please... my right.. 

So Spring, if you won't come to me, I will come to you.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow it will be Spring. 

want to spring ahead but keep falling back

This is the winter that doesn't end.

Today is the first day of Spring, and yet here in Halifax we are still digging out from a series of colossal snow storms. We are now called Snova Scotia.

It's interesting to see the effect that winter has on the psyche- the psyche of people and of place.
It is apparent in how people act, speak, move.

this bus stop ad doubles as instructions.. climb the other side? YOU climb the other side- I'm done

you don't say

The heavy snowfall and bad weather take tolls on our moods as well. Personally, I have noticed a sadness, a discontent, a crankiness and a fatigue that I know is climate induced. We live part of the year in winter, so I try to embrace it as much as I can. Photography helps see the beauty in it. But even that can only go so far

yes, yes, it is pretty..

Now I am tired.

I am tired of boots and coats and layers of clothing. I am weary of feeling weighted down in body, mind and spirit. The urge to hibernate, to stay in bed or in the house is so strong. But that only breeds more sadness. Even I know that too much time spent in my own head is not good. Even my solitary nature  says ENOUGH.


I want to feel grass. I want to wear sandals and feel the air on my feet, to see my pink painted toenails peeking up at me. I long to hear sounds that are not the sliding of car tires spinning in snow and on ice. Or the scraping of the snow plow shovels hitting pavement. I long to feel light, not claustrophobic to the point of panic.

yes, yes, it can be inspiring..

In two weeks time I will take a trip. This is not to a tropical place, but a more moderate one.
Washington DC will be treated to nearly 4000 cherry trees in blossom, and I'm going to be there. I'm going to feel warm spring and smell fragrant air and leave my coat and boots and baggage behind.







But for the next two weeks I will try to breathe and think warm thoughts and hope it is enough to melt the snow.

meanwhile, back in canada...

My day started with a text... 

beauty beyond the blizzard

February 19 gave us a bit more snow. It's not hard to tell that everyone is done with winter.

But since it is still here and steadfast, I will continue (try!) to find the beauty in it. This wasn't hard when I saw the little church-turned-museum in Africville shining through the snow

challenging channeling changing

Being a writer is a bit like being a schizophrenic. There are alway so many voices in your head.

Mine won't shut up. They are in some limbo yard, chattering and running and jumping at the walls to try to climb over and and jump for a chance to live a life on the page. They just want to be heard.

It's easy to see how writers are prone to maladies and madness. 

The solitude from which you feed also feeds from you. 

Nourish and deplete.

These self imposed writer retreats are much that way. 

When I spend a lot of time in the head of my characters it starts to affect my mood. I can become dark if their stories are dark ones. 

This is why it takes me so long to commit to sit. 

I know that once I do, it will spread like an ink drop in a glass of water. That's how I see the darkness enter me- swirling slowly down in a beautifully hypnotic process

But if I don't let it come out through my tapping fingers, the voices won't stop. 

The only way to make them quiet is to tell their stories. It's hard to say if it is an channeling or performing an exorcism. Chapters write themselves in my head, but only seeing the words in physical form will do. 

So that's what I am doing in my little retreat by the ocean in a winter storm- trying to free some souls and quiet some voices.

And walk that thin dark line.

my sweet retreat

storm stayed stay

There is something so lovely about being storm-stayed.

As children we long for storm days (only on school days of course) and even as adults we find ourselves saying that little wish before we go to bed the night before.

It provides that permission we don't often afford ourselves, that allowance to just do nothing. Or at least, not be held to any obligations. An official No Pants Day.  

Since before this day saw light, the Atlantic region has been getting the weather that was promised. A winter storm with icy breath sharing its snow and rain in many different forms. 

We Maritimers take our weather seriously.

The day before a storm always sees line ups at grocery and liquor stores. Many times the storms don't amount to much as the ocean can cause the forecast to change, but no one wants to take the risk of being storm-stayed without the essentials. 

I am cozy.

I'm sitting in a cottage by the ocean watching the storm hit the sea and the sea throw it back. Inside, the smell of the wood fire mixes with the aroma of simmering corn chowder and freshly ground coffee. CBC fills the air with classical music in the day and jazz in the night. 

Not a bad way to spend a stormy weekend. It was my hope to get stranded here, to use this as a writer's retreat. 

Sure I have solitude in my city apartment, but for some reason I feel more like a writer out here. I am definitely more inspired. At home there are always distractions- I should clean this, rearrange that.

But here, inspired by nature's ocean and elements, I find I can get more done.
Don't get me wrong, I love my little desk in the city, overlooking the downtown street, but a change of scenery is always good to reboost the creative process. 

and then I saw this

just a day

So it's Valentine's Day.

This is the day that many singles love to hate,  citing it as a "Hallmark Holiday".
And they're not wrong.
Many a lover has had to face a hard heart if s/he forgot to buy flowers/cards/candy for their amore, just because calendar and commerce dictates it. And let's face it, if you've been blessed to find someone to love, who loves you in return, well then goody for you- every day is Valentine's Day.

Personally, I've never been one for the hype.

But I have discovered a new appreciation of the day.

February 14 is recognized as a day of love. Love is universal. It is not contained to romantic love. Well, yes, I suppose commercially it is. But it shouldn't be. It doesn't have to be.

Love is love. And if we can put a little extra of the good stuff out into the world, then why not celebrate it?

It doesn't have to be directed at a lover. It doesn't have to be delivered to anyone you know.
Give a stranger a valentine just by being nice. Paying for someone's coffee is lovely, but so is helping a person across an icy street. So is a giving a true compliment. Or just making eye contact and smiling.
Every little gesture that makes someone feel good has a beautiful ripple effect. I say this at the risk of sounding like a hippy wearing rose coloured glasses (of which I am neither.. no offence to hippies or anyone who sees the world through a pinkish hue..) But creating the warm and fuzzies on February 14 could radiate into other days on the calendar, other parts of the year. It could spread through your home, your neighbourhood, city, country.
World.

Now I sound like a hippy wearing rose coloured glasses sitting in a field of sunflowers (no offence to hippy's or ombre tints or sunflowers)  But February 14 is a good place to start to give a Valentine to the World.

We can spend the day as if we were in love
And that's not a bad thing.

my valentine to the world would include sprinkles..

craving colour

February 12 started with a beautiful blood orange.

I was so enthralled with the colours when I cut it open, that I brought it outside to the balcony and lay the halves on the snow to take a photograph. The contrast was so striking and beautiful.




Winter is heavy now. I feel it in my body- in the weight of clothing that has to be layered, in the burden of boots; the heat and the cold of indoors and outside.




The snow and ice are certainly beautiful, but I'm craving colour.

I'm drawn to citrus for its vibrancy, as well as its vitamins. That's the vitamin C I need right now.

either way it's six more weeks to spring

February 2 is Imbolc, the Pagan festival that celebrates the coming of Spring. Fires are lit to symbolize the warming of the Earth. That appeals to me, since an icy blizzard is banging on these old windows. So my shot of the day is a tribute to Imbolc. And Marley photobombing the shot reminded me that it is also Groundhog Day.

febuary blew in

February 1 had winds so strong they could blow a wave right off the ocean

I don't care if it hurts to stand here

from kings to rings and other things

Rather than post my shot of the day individually, I've decided to put a week together. From snow to macro, from Kings to rings.. onion rings that is... this was my week




January 27 was the day of our first winter storm of the year. It didn't seem so bad from the window so I thought I would try to venture out to work . The snow was icy pellets and the ground underneath the snow was slippery. After the bus slid onto the curb I took it as a sign to go back home and work from there

January 28 was my first time practicing with a micro lens. I tried to get a detailed close-up picture of Marley's eye, but he was not very cooperative (qu'elle surprise). This was the best I could get

January 29 was one of those rare occasions where I was craving meat. This was my first visit to Krave Burger on Spring Garden. I was just happy it wasn't Rotten Ronnie's

January 30 I spotted this card twice in two different locations in the city (what odds?) I think the Sidewalk King is following me

Seeing it all laid out like this... aaah the glamour of it all. 

Perhaps I don't have to post every day's photo...