this heart's on fire

There's something about owning one of your favourite albums on vinyl. There's especially something about listening to your favourite song from said favourite album on a -20 degree winter evening like today. It gives your step an extra bounce. It makes the upcoming days seem a bit brighter and a whole lot warmer. It reminds you of a summer so many years ago where you walked into the heat and humidity all wide-eyed and new. It reminds you of stepping off one #6 into the middle of a bustling campus and how comfortable and good it felt to be there (wave hey! hello! hi there!). Time keeps a ticking, but there's always that one song that can bring you back to a time you almost forgot.

inbetween days

I have no idea what awaits me in the days ahead, or how I will survive the next seven months of school when I can't even manage to pick up one assigned book during a two month long strike, but then there are moments like this afternoon where it may be -23 degrees outside, but the sun is streaming through your window and it no longer feels like the dead of winter, rather you have to turn off your space heater and open your curtains and welcome this brightness into your room and turn up your favourite song and dancedancedance and sing "come back come back don't walk away come back come back come back today come back come back why can't you see come back come back come back to me" because you love the song and not because it reminds you of any one single person anymore.

you're the only ten i see

LIFE STORY

After you've been to bed together for the first time,
without the advantage or disadvantage of any prior acquaintance,
the other party very often says to you,
Tell me about yourself, I want to know all about you,
what's your story? And you think maybe they really and truly do

sincerely want to know your life story, and so you light up
a cigarette and begin to tell it to them, the two of you
lying together in completely relaxed positions
like a pair of rag dolls a bored child dropped on a bed.

You tell them your story, or as much of your story
as time or a fair degree of prudence allows, and they say,
Oh, oh oh, oh oh,
each time a little more faintly, until the oh
is just an audible breath, and then of course

there's some interruption. Slow room service comes up
with a bowl of melting ice cubes, or one of you rises to pee
and gaze at himself with mild astonishment in the bathroom mirror.
And then, the first thing you know, before you've had time
to pick up where you left off with your enthralling life story,
they're telling you their life story, exactly as they'd intended to all
along,

and you're saying, Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
each time a little more faintly, the vowel at last becoming
no more than an audible sigh,
as the elevator, halfway down the corridor and a turn to the left,
draws one last, long deep breath of exhaustion,
and stops breathing forever. Then?

Well, one of you falls asleep
and the other one does likewise with a lighted cigarette in his mouth,
and that's how people burn to death in hotel rooms.

Oh, Tennessee, how do you get it so right?

at the hop

BLACKOUT

The city, my city, was dark and still and quiet last night for once. Bloor Street was lit only by passing headlights and one tiger display as I made the cold walk home. And despite the darkness and ice, it was peaceful and perfect.

new adventures

What do you do when you realize you've been out of school on strike longer than you were ever there to begin with? Why, embark on a day of newness of course!








I'm still feeling horribly unproductive lately, but at least I can add first-time sushi-and-thai-cold-spring-roll-maker and haircut-advisor to my list of accomplishments during the strike. Combine these new talents with my gift-wrapping abilities and HELLO WORLD! HERE I AM!

cut out all the strings and let me fall

I may not have been fully able to capture Williamsburg on film, but there are other times when photos just don't lie. Last night, browsing through folder after folder of my old photos, I almost gasped when I stumbled upon a look I forgot once existed. There was love shining back at me from my computer screen. It was so strong and so glowing I couldn't look away or click that 'x'. It held me still. It was a look, a gaze that instantly transported me back to summer '07. I felt myself walking beneath a hot sun into always bright afternoons and evenings. I felt myself sitting across from patio tables, warm. It was a look that was once so true.