a sphincter say what?

So it's late late -- or early (early) rather, and I'm still awake pondering. It's not the heat keeping me up (no excuses); I now have an evil machine of death (aka ac), and besides that, the nightimes are feckin' gorgeous. No, it's back to the eternal problem of what to do with my life. I can't just disappear into the woods and live as a hermit (in my woody little hermitage) -- that would be a cop-out. I want to do things that help. But lately, I've also been tempted by (meeting and greeting) new and wonderful artistic muses. There are so many wonderfully creative, talented people around that I want to stand up and add my voice to the chorus. Seriously, it sounds a bit lame, but I just have this feeling of: "Oh me too! Think of all the cool things I can do!"

Now, my conundrum. Are these two things compatible? Can I really help, can I really give something, or do something meaningful to/for the world through art (or even through other means for that matter)? Or is it merely a self-important, self-indulgent exercise in self-gratification?



Am I giving myself too much credit?

(Only five people know the answer to that question)

a sort of fear

I never thought I'd get so tangled up in temptation like this. Things look different.
We do change don't we.

Scary?


letters to the moon


he flashed that dark and sort of smile
with no apologetic circumstance
I told him ownership is a concept
and rationality was never a close friend
never more than a shroud
above my orange breasts

molecular uncertainty tipping the balance
in my eyes, t'il my hands no longer paid heed

(and I lied)

these silly games
of pleading mine
left me,
where dreams forgot
that sustenance is in memory's rapture
where windows could not penetrate
the colour of sheets
and what you meant to me

I wrote you his eyes, so you could see
how I fell to longing; that one dip in the river
was never enough

cooling

The temperature drops ten degrees at night and I feel like a normal person again. For now, it's not such a bit deal that all of the stores in Toronto seem to be sold out of air conditioners. I also came across someone else's rantings that are much more humorous (and less crazy) than mine. It's all helping to ease away the heat-induced mania of daytime.

I've also started the long (strangely satisfying) process of uploading oodles of (mostly bad -- some worthy of pride) vacation pictures.

Here's a taste of a place they call BC.
There's also a few travelling shots (I'm terrified of flying, but much to my delight, I discovered a wonderful distraction; no, not the highly publicized personal satellite television, leather seats, and friendly service a-la westjet. A hint: by the time we landed in Kelowna, I had over 100 pictures of barely visible landscapes and cloudscenes out of a plane window). Enjoy.

Alas; leaving dirty (dirty) Toronto behind...

...for a land of blue skies, mountains, and wine...



There's something about the Okanagan







Now I'm off to a land of witches and wizards.

a sad thought

I've come to the conclusion that if this heat wave lasts any longer, I'm going to crumble and buy an air conditioner. I've had it. My will is gone. I'm wracked with guilt and contradictions at the idea, but this heat is stealing my life. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't think properly. I'm angry, irrational, unhappy. I'm exhausted, but just laying in bed is excruciating. Tears threaten when I think of facing the next week like this. Or maybe many summers to come like this. I know the air conditioner will only make things worse in the longer term (adding to energy consumption, adding to emissions, and smog, and etc. etc.) but in the short term, I seriously feel I'm losing my mind. I feel weak for caving, but I feel helpless in this weather.

Reading headlines about heat related deaths, energy over-consumption, and climate change doesn't help.

Update updo

So...things have been busy.

I've been to BC and back (survived family gatherings and two plane trips).

I met some amazing people.

I floated down a river.

I met a crazy beer guru.

I drank lots of beer.

I drank lots of wine.

I biked up a mountain and got a wicked sun-burn.

I got a new camera.

I took loads of pictures (selections will be posted eventually).


Lovely, lovely times.

Happy Nationalist Day

The heat hurts. My back hurts. The fighting hurts. He says he doesn't think we're good together anymore. I can't decide if it's worth all this. The point of origin was so chaotic and fucked, that really I feel like I've only come full circle, and nothing has changed. I haven't changed. Change is an illusion; life is just a series of endless, fucked up cycles. History is the same. I can't believe in anything now.