A Thought or Two: Trusting Strangers

The other night on the short walk home from the subway station after a slightly overpriced dinner with a great friend, I had two encounters with one thing in common.

A gentleman with a probing cane for vision impairment was walking right into a poorly delineated construction zone - essentially an odd maze of pylons right before a small step down to the next walkable surface. I stopped when it seemed that he may not be able to tell what was happening and offered to direct him out of the funny little pylon zone. He accepted the help and then asked me for directions to the subway and I offered to walk him there. I then offered him my arm for guidance, again he agreed, and allowed me to lead the way through traffic and intersections back to the subway station. You never know what level of vision someone has, even if they have a probing cane, so for all I know he had some vision, or entirely none. It didn't really matter - we chatted and introduced ourselves. The moment that changed my perception of this encounter was when the ground dipped just a little and had some uneven bumps from shoddy pavement work. I felt him hesitate and realized he didn't truly know where I was leading him, or what was happening under his feet. I assured him it was just a matter of bad city infrastructure, an explanation he seemed content with.

Something that has really struck me since moving so near to a subway station is that I now encounter persons living with homelessness almost daily. There are several regular frequenters of my area and I am always a bit hesitant to pull out my wallet to dig out some change - a bi-product perhaps of living in Paris and traveling alone, where you never flash what's in your wallet to strangers around you. I've been thinking about ways to have small change easily accessible to help when I can. This time, on my way home that same night, I had leftover chicken pot pie from my dinner. There was a woman who reached out to me, sitting next to the door of a busy fast food spot. I asked her if she was interested in some food. Immediately, she reached out both her arms, head nodding. She did not hesitate for a second to accept the mystery box of leftovers I had in my hands. I assured her any way - telling her it was a really yummy chicken pot pie and that I really hope she enjoys it. She didn't seem to need to be reassured and was just happy to accept it nonetheless.

I wondered, truly, if I would have been as trusting of me if I were in their shoes. I found it remarkable that these two strangers trusted me - a random person out of hundreds walking by. The first gentleman might not have even been able to see what I looked like and essentially trusted me based on my voice and the touch of my arm and my hand. The woman who accepted my food had no idea who I was or what my motivation might have been in offering food. For all she knew, it was an empty box or filled with something inedible. And yet her arms reached out so fully and openly to accept what I offered. I think I would have been so much more skeptical if I were either of these individuals.

Helping others always feels good - I admit I felt like I had done my good deeds for the day and definitely felt like a good person. That's not really what stood out to me though and not what I hope to relay here. It's important to remember that it was these two individuals who allowed me to help. It was SO powerful to be trusted by two strangers like that. We spend so much of our time - especially those of us who are young women - focused on self preservation and our personal safety. Approaching strangers on the street is something we are taught not to do at a super early age, and just like my aforementioned wallet neurosis, we learn so many tips and tricks to avoid risk from strangers on the street.

These risks are real. The consequences and fears are valid. However, there is beauty in the moments we let down our guard, too. I'm not sure what my conclusion is here, but it just felt good to let my wall down a little and to have others let their walls down for me in return. These days my brain is swirling with relational theories and how to make the world more relational - as you know if you've read this blog recently, so I can't help but connect these experiences to some of those ideas too.

What would the world be like if we were more trusting to those we pass on the street every day, whether they are helping us or we are helping them?
(I'm serious - tell me your vision in the comments!)

A Thought or Two: Relationality in Art

I've felt this heavy shift in the last half of a year. Heavy in the good, planets shifting, mind bending kind of way.

My research and work is in relational caring, relational philosophies for working with persons with dementia. The theories resonate with me, they parallel something deep down in my psyche that I've not ever been able to put words to until now.

Relationality is how I live my life.

My relationships are a central part of my life, organically, naturally, always.

I thrive when I'm connected with others. I have a suspicion that this is how all humans thrive. So do all the relational theorists!

So how has this changed my art practice?

I still enjoy a good hours-long paint session, with good music, just me and my materials and ideas.

But I get a much bigger kick out of making art collectively, collaboratively. At work with my seniors, I work side by side or in collaboration with people all day. It's a freeing space, it lets relationships flow and grow. 

Knowing how good it feels at work to be in connection with others while making art and being creative, it made me wonder how I could translate this to my art practice. For one, I've been trying to make art with friends when we spend time together! For another, I've been re-reading all of my art school materials on relational aesthetics, thinking about how to make it a reality with my skillset.

In May I facilitated an interactive collage installation at an arts and music event. It was a total dream come true to have people come up to my collage wall, with their collage materials in hand, so excited to contribute to the collaborative collage pieces. We made 4 very colourful, bedazzled, and fascinating pieces. I loved watching people make collage decisions I never would have thought of, watching people pair things together or fold things or cut things a certain way. It was beautiful and I can still feel the high of it when I think back to the event.

I want to do this again. And again. And again. I want to make art with people indefinitely and always. It's a beautiful and healing and magical.

So, here's to relationality in art, and artwork becoming less competitive and ego driven - instead, community minded!



~xo

On Being Serious...

... or not.

When I say the words "instagram aesthetic", can you picture exactly what I mean?
Probably.

Whether you're an artist sharing your work, a fashionista sharing your styling, a traveler sharing your adventures, a chef sharing your edible creations, or anything else, there's a particular "cool", "collected", and dare I say blasé, thing about instagram.

Lots of wistful stares at cameras and half-open mouths, pursed a little. Maybe looking away from the camera and posing half-candidly in front of a cool wall.

I'm never happy with photos of myself or my surroundings trying to recreate that instagram aesthetic. I love things to look beautiful and nice but I've placed expectations on myself based on other peoples' style and amount of effort they're willing to put into social media posts.

I love social media and I don't want to ditch it - it connects me with people, connects my artwork with people, and can be such a wonderful community. I do however want to start being more myself, stop worrying about being professional (I try to keep my instagram somewhat profesh, so potential clients can engage with it). But it just isn't me!

I am maybe the farthest thing from blasé. Ever.

One of the first things I can remember my now-fella noticing about me, during a night out with friends, was "You are maybe the most animated person I've ever met." (I can still remember skipping down Spadina street at night, around the corner from the Horseshoe Tavern and a night of nice music) This was also maybe the first time someone had said something like that to me and meant it as a positive. I skip and dance and sometimes sing my sentences. I greet my seniors at work by throwing up my arms and exclaiming HELLO with so much gusto that they stop and do the same!

So here's to being me, and fighting against that instagram social hierarchy algorithm blasé cool-girl BS! Who's with me?

</rant>

Gallery Chat: Venus/Experiencing Sexism

I recently had a conversation with someone, this person being notorious for inflammatory and outrageous remarks, and it was a surprisingly wholesome and interesting idea. Except he intentionally left out women/girls. Which was hilarious to me because there I am, a young woman, listening to this man's "great" idea for our youth, but only young men - NOT women, only men (his words). I'm sitting there wondering what he would suggest the young women do instead then - what would you have me doing right now, sir? I didn't want to know. I wasn't prepared for confrontation so I simply left the conversation. But man did I want to pull out the big guns and shred his idea to pieces.

It isn't often that I experience blatant sexism in my circle, and for that I am privileged and so fortunate. Unfortunately it also means I'm not usually prepared to fight against it, especially when it is coming from someone older than me who clearly assumes power over the situation.

I've had these conversations with my brother about the wage gap and representation in the film industry (his area of interest). We discussed what other issues he finds important to him, and we discussed why it's hard to understand when you don't experience what women experience. The same way I have to listen to people of colour and the lgbtq community and other people who experience marginalization, learn from them, and accept that I will never understand it the same way they do, it is important for my brother to realize that he doesn't know what it's like to have someone harass him when he walks home at night based on the length of his skirt. He doesn't know what it's like to wear your favourite pair of jeans and have people visibly gawk at you when you're just trying to get some damn groceries. He doesn't know the implicit threat involved in such little gestures. He can't understand the way it feels to have male professors celebrate only the men in your class, or celebrate you for all the wrong reasons. And so on. It's nice to have these conversations with my brother because he is learning, and wants to learn. I've even had these conversations with my dad, my uncles; people who are open to listening and learning.

So how sad is it, that there are so many people out there who can't take the time of day and don't want to learn. And how easy it is to pick up on that, to clam up, and stay silent.

How easy it is to shut up when you know they won't listen.

I'm not sure what my solution is to these feelings, but I want to find more strength in times when I am negotiating these weird sexist spaces. And I wonder; how do you navigate these conversations? Do you experience them often? Please feel free to share (respectfully!) in the comments...

A Thought or Two: All Great Thoughts

(Yes, I did just insert myself into a Nietzsche quote...) 

As I procrastinate reading over my first paper of the term, I found myself reading articles for creatives. How to get inspired, how to get noticed, how to become the next Picasso.... that sort of stuff. I came across an article by Alex Mathers that I really enjoyed: Why 'Idea Adventures' Have Become the Most Important Part of My Day. It's from this article that I pulled my Nietzsche quote, and it all got me thinking about how I personally function.

Mathers writes about leaving the house, physically moving around, talking to someone new, looking at something other than your computer screen or sketchbook and the four walls of your studio/bedroom/basement... I realized that, as a highly sociable creative, this is one of the ways that I keep myself sane. When I spend a whole day without leaving my apartment? I go nutty. It's just the way things seem to go. Sometimes when I feel I have too much work to do to, or the weather is absurdly gross (we had a week of freezing rain last week...), I need to shake things up in a different way. Usually I'll do yoga, or take a hot hot shower. Just last Monday, a really exciting new idea for my Master's research emerged during my shower, somewhere in between soaping up my armpits and singing off-key and loudly to myself.

I love Mathers' notion of Idea Adventures, and I think an adventure can be something different for everyone. Sometimes it's an adventure to a different room, to the café around the corner, the park 20 minutes away, or a whole new continent. I'm taking this as a reminder to myself to MOVE, to SHAKE things up, and to ADVENTURE, whenever I start feeling frustrated, uninspired, or unmotivated. And as a last resort, I can always take a nice hot shower.

What do you do when you need to shake things up a little?

Goodbye 2016 (I'll miss you, and I won't.)

Twenty sixteen has been a ridiculous year. It blows my mind to reflect on how much happened in 365 days, and it is hard to wrap my head around where I was at the start and where I am now; where the world was, and where the world is now.

In my life, 2016 has been a remarkable year. I did have some significant lows at the start; I was an insecure, recent graduate, freaking out about not finding full-time employment, doing my best to freelance as a designer/artist while also working 3 part time jobs. Now, at the end of 2016, I am a full-swing student again, working towards my Master's which I never in a million years thought I would be doing (cue flashbacks of my teenage self telling Dad: no way, I'm going to be an ~artist~). I moved to a new city, started working as a TA, kept my once-a-week job in Toronto, met some amazing fellow students, and started learning a whole new language of academics and Recreation and Leisure.

Even before school started again, 2016 made a turn for the better. I worked on two murals, which was the most fun, and I produced two of the pieces I'm most proud of now. I also worked on some really exciting logos with amazing clients and designed numerous posters for some Toronto bands. In 2016 I also started my own business, selling my artwork on t-shirts, greeting cards, calendars, prints, etc. in some stores in Toronto and at markets and fairs. I met so many other creatives and really enjoyed putting myself out there like that. I also got so much closer with so many people around me, and I have been so thankful this year to enjoy the company, kindness, and loyalty of some beautiful individuals.

That being said, I am so, so angry about the plethora of awful things that happened in the world this year. Certainly not a surprising or unique statement, as I know I'm not alone. I want so much to say that 2016 was amazing - but it just was not. From Syria, to Trump, to the too-long battle for DAPL, to the deaths of many childhood/adulthood celebrity heroes, to the attacks around the world too numerous to list... to be entirely honest I don't actually want to think about it all, even though I know it's important.

For me, this New Years Eve is a time for reflection, a time to remember that it's not all about me. We are individuals and we are constantly encouraged to follow our own dreams, take responsibility for our own lives and get ourselves to where we want to be. But we also exist in a bigger picture, and this picture needs some serious attention and TLC in 2017. So in this sense, with as much humility as I can muster, I say a very bittersweet farewell to 2016, and I prudently hope for a better 2017. Cheers to the potential of better things in the new year, for you, for me, and for the world!

xo

A Thought or Two: Feeling Ready

There are changes in life that come along and threaten you - they shake up your foundation and force you to question yourself. These are the kinds of change that everyone calls scary, the kind we allude to when we talk about being creatures of habit that like our routines. I've always been one to feel simultaneously scared and excited for big changes in life - for entering that 'next' phase. Excited because change brings so much opportunity for joy and for happy new experiences; Scared because I don't usually feel ready for the change. The standard mix of emotions, really.

This time around though, I am feeling so ready. I am moving to a new city I've only been to once and starting a Master's degree in a subject I have never studied before. It would be easy to feel scared for all the unknown, that's what I would normally expect, but I feel ready. Maybe it's the many transitions I've made it through in the past that has me more confident that I can do it, maybe it's the strong sense of purpose I feel and that I'm studying something that is exactly the path I want to take, maybe it's an independence and confidence that simply comes with age, maybe it's all of these things! But I feel more ready than ever.

I'm also really excited about my new apartment! My roommate is great, the room is big and bright (with large windows!) and the neighbourhood is so full of beautiful old homes. I'm excited to decorate - though sparsely as it will be a temporary place - and to cook for myself and do my groceries myself (I actually love that) and to live my own way for a little while. I will miss my parents and brother and boyfriend and friends back home, but I will also be commuting home for work on the weekends so I will see them plenty! I also took my first nap in my new place today so - that means it's home for real now, right? ;)

It's odd to feel ready at a time where my past self would feel utterly unprepared. Really nice, of course, but odd. That's not to say I'm not nervous, I definitely feel nervous too, but hardly as much as I feel excited. We will see what happens when I actually dive into school and work and adjusting to a new city all at once, but I'm going to enjoy this unadulterated excitement for now!

xo

The Seasons of Creativity

It is disheartening when the fruits of your creative labour are misshapen, slightly off, or sometimes completely rotten. It sucks when your physical self isn't able to pull off the vision in your mind, or when your mind feels completely empty, and your creative juices run slow as molasses.

I guess we call this artist's block. The oh-so-dreaded artist's block. We talk about it, we feel it and we discuss in great length how to get past it and create again. Artist's block is the bane of a creative's existence.

I'd like to propose a new way of looking at what we call artist's block. Instead of a negative, a hurdle, or a hump, I believe it is one of several creative seasons. It is part of a cycle, a perpetual rotation of inspiration, creating, thinking, observing, sharing, searching. The same way that we have lulls and preferred seasons in terms of weather (these are winter and summer respectively, for me), there are creative seasons that come and go and change the way we create. Certainly as artists, each of our minds works in a different way., so I'm sure that we all also have our own creative seasons and our own cycles. I am curious to know if mine are the same as yours!


These are my creative seasons:

A Season of Creating
This is the creative season I liken to summer. My favourite season! Every creative person loves to create. Isn't that the whole point? The thrill of feeling endlessly inspired and capable of transferring that inspiration and passion to paper or clay, or textiles, or canvas! Whatever your medium may be, it is a wonderful season. It feels like the sun has come out and life is brought to every synapse of your brain. It challenging and frustrating to not be in a season of creating. Especially with the pressures we put on ourselves to constantly create - we are also told again and again that consistency and constancy is particularly important for marketing ourselves as creatives on social media. So, for obvious reasons, a season of creating is exciting and important both personally and for our creative careers.

A Season of Thinking and Questioning
Why am I making the art I am making? Why do I tend towards circles all the time, why do I do this art at all when no one is paying attention to it? Do I even like this art anymore? I begin to question my creative process and suddenly doubt what I've created just a week prior. I begin to analyze my creative practice and find it harder to engage in making new work when my mind is too full of the why's and the how's. I start to question whether it is a worthwhile pursuit and whether or not "I've got what it takes". This is GOOD. This is my creative winter, but it is necessary. This season is a reflection of an eagerness to grow and an unwillingness to stay stagnant in my art-making. I want to try harder to use this season constructively and be critical of my own work. I want to use it to grow as an artist and not succumb to the frustration of not being able to fluidly create. Not to fret, the creating season will come again.

A Season of Observing, Searching, and Sharing
For me, a season of thinking subsequently leads to a season of observing, searching, and sharing. This is somewhat along the lines of the usual "how to get out of artist's block" advice. Get out there, go to art galleries, scroll through art websites, read a book, read a magazine, watch some movies. Go for a walk, explore a new neighbourhood, talk with your friends, share what you like back and forth with them. Discuss. Keep an eye out for what tickles your fancy and what you are naturally drawn to. Also make note of what doesn't appeal to you. Go to some show openings and meet new artists. Look out for people doing similar things to you, and find people who do completely different work than you. Get out of your own head, and put yourself out there!

A Season of Inspiration
This is my creative spring. It is exciting, it is the prelude to my favourite season and I can smell it nearby in the air! This is a season full of inspiration and visual stimulation. The empty mid-day sky is beautiful, the light falling through a glass of water is beautiful, the buildings downtown are beautiful, the grungy sidewalk is beautiful; there is even beauty in the mouldy bread that was left on the counter for far too long. In this season I may not be ready to make things yet as there are often too many ideas in my head and too much inspiration to make sense of. But - it does feel like I'm coming alive again and that I'm collecting fuel for the Creating Season to come. Often, the season of inspiration can be just as fun and is certainly just as important as a season of creating.


Every season has its pros and cons, some more than others. Unlike our world's seasons, my creative seasons vary in length and often coincide with other life events. I have creative winters when I'm too busy and my mind is too full because of a specific job. Sometimes creative summers are brought on because of an incredible trip, or even just an inspiring museum visit.

I feel like I am just about to enter a season of creating, which is exciting! But, for maybe the first time, I've embraced the other seasons I just went through. It was time for things other than creating, and that's OK. It feels really good to accept each season for what it is.

What are your creative seasons, are they anything like mine?
 

A Thought or Two: Fear and Freelancing

Surely it is not surprising to hear that freelancing can be scary.
It's kind of the opposite of what a lot of us are taught growing up: find a job, find somewhere you fit into, find an occupation you can apply your skills to, find something stable and steady to ensure your success in life. None of these are bad pieces of advice. They apply to a lot of us, myself included.

I feel a lot of "pride" associated with freelancing. I CAN DO THIS. WATCH ME. And it's not the easiest thing to admit that it's freakin' scary, and that it might not actually be the best thing for me. But I'm gonna get nice and real here.

I have now been essentially freelancing for 8 months since graduating school. A lot of my work has been varied - I'm the only creative person someone knows so they come to me for sewing a birth banner, or for a portrait of their wife, or for some paintings for their home. Some of my jobs have come to me by sending a resume for an art instructor position and getting a response that says they don't need any more instructors, but they do need tshirt designs! Other have been by putting myself out there, or hassling my friends in bands long enough that they finally decide to take me up on my offers. It's a total thrill to land a new contract and it is hilarious how this happens sometimes.

My "jobs" are technically also freelance. I work for a wedding photographer once a week to edit photos, perform administrative tasks, create graphics for cards or promotions, update social media, and more. I also help on shoots occasionally. My other job is a freelance contract at a day program for persons with Alzheimers and Dementia. I do art sessions once a week. I love love love these jobs. I love going into work and being a part of a team. I love creating alongside others, I love helping people create. I love working with people! I have come to learn that my social nature is just as important a factor in my career as my creative nature is.

Which is a realization that makes the idea of perpetually freelancing quite scary. I want a workplace. I want a workplace culture. I want workplace friends. I want to be a part of something bigger than just my own work. I am not satisfied with staying at home and working from home, alone, 7 days a week. I am not quite at a place in my freelance work where I can afford my own place, either, and that's a big "want" for me. It's something I've wanted since I left home the first time and so thoroughly enjoyed having an apartment to myself.

Freelance is a fantastic way to work, and it is really fulfilling on many levels. Freelance works for many people and I am a total believer in it. I'm just afraid of it, despite doing it right now. But I guess fear comes along for the ride for a lot of good things in life.

Are you a freelancer? Do you get scared of it all sometimes?

A Thought or Two: November, Paris, Loss.

November has not been a cheerful month so far.

I thought it would be a fabulous month - I'm a part of some group art shows this month, which was exciting. Lots of work, which is also exciting. My birthday, and my sister's birthday, and subsequently lots of celebration. There was a lot to look forward to.

But it hasn't really shaped up to be a wonderful month at this point.

A friend of mine from highschool passed away, and we all found out November 2nd.
We hadn't been a part of eachothers' lives for a year or two, but in grade 12 we had a majority of our classes together. They were bird classes, so we had a lot of time to bum around and we spent a lot of time together. There was tech design class, which was first period, so I would start every day with a little dose of his silliness and constant joking. Then there was photography, where we would often slack off in secret in the dark room and sometimes even work very hard in the dark room, making chemical, photo magic happen. We would go on adventures in the nearby ravine to take photos for assignments and end up climbing trees and fences and really exploring. It was difficult to hear of someone who had once been an integral part of my every day, suddenly gone.

There was another young life lost in my neighbourhood, someone who had gone to my elementary school but was a few years older, with a tragic accidental shooting which you don't hear much about in Canada because there aren't usually guns lying about in homes. So it was really shocking for everyone in my neighbourhood.

And now Paris.

Some of you may know I lived in Paris in 2014. It was strange to wake up this morning and be so thankful that I was home, waking up in my cozy bed with my great boyfriend and sunlight pouring in through the window. Thankful that I wasn't in Paris, that I didn't stay, that I didn't go live there now. I woke up thankful, but scared. Scared that I could have been. Scared that I know so many people there, thankful that they all are safe and alive. Sad that so so many people were not so lucky. Scared to think that this sort of tragedy and death happens almost daily, in places less close to my heart. Scared for what conclusions the world will jump to in the wake of these attacks. Scared to what conclusions will be drawn fairly, scared of what this all means. Thankful that I have never known such fear, and that even now, my fear is but a fraction of the fear felt by anonymous others who I find myself caring deeply for, now.

I guess I have been having a lot of thoughts surrounding death and life and gratefulness and what really matters in the world. It's not altogether gloomy - there is a lot of beauty in appreciating the fragility and worth of life. There is beauty in reaching out to those you love and telling each other how much you do love each other. There is beauty in realizing what's important to you - in prioritizing and not letting the little, insignificant things irk you. There is beauty, sometimes, because there is also the ugly.

I'm sorry that this post is a bit of a downer/dumping of all that has happened this month. I've been making some art to meditate on these happenings and create something I can feel good about. This is a collage I made today For Paris. Some of the photos are actually mine, from my time living there. It's nice to reflect on nice memories at times like these.

Rest in Peace, all of November's dead.

A Thought or Two: Water and Rain

I experienced a nice moment this past week, and I thought I would share it.

I know this is far from universal - for some love the rain and grey.

But, there are those days where you wake up in the morning and the sky is so dark that you still have to switch on the lights in your home. Those days where the wind is blowing and the outdoors are basically howling "Stay away! Stay indoors, we do not want you out here today."
And you think about leaving your house, you think about walking to work and getting rained on and being droopy and wet and cold, and you want to listen to the outdoors; you want to stay inside as though your life depended on it! Life goes on, though. Society doesn't pause for a rainy day.

Well, I was experiencing one of those days, feeling a little glum. I had work at 10:30am and was thankful to see the rain had eased and I could probably make it to work without getting soaked through and through. So off I went!

It was a beautiful day after all. The rain drops on plants glistened in the peek-a-boo-ing sun and everything was a little bit sparkly and alive. I spent the entire walk to work admiring the life-giving powers of rain and water, and thinking about how hard I am on the outdoors when really, rain is their gift to the plants and the greenery that make this earth we share a beautiful place.

Surely I can give the plants a day or two of rain so that they may thrive too. The sun will be back for me soon - it's a compromise between the Outdoors, myself, and the plants, and I think I can wrap my head around it, be a little selfless, and stop complaining when the earth is getting what it needs.

I took this picture on my way to work and am so in love with it - and the memory I have associated with it. I can't promise to love the rain, but I can say after that walk and that realization, that I won't harbour such hard feelings for it anymore.


Do you enjoy rainy days? Or are you strictly a sunshine babe?

A Thought or Two: September

This week my brother, sister, their friends, my former school-mates, and (what sometimes feels like) the rest of the world, go back to school.

But not me! Not this time!

It is a super strange feeling, to not be packing my bag with an empty notebook or sketchbook and maybe a few new pens, getting excited to see everyone's new haircuts and tattoos and piercings (the small joys of art school). Instead, today, I am interviewing for an incredibly wonderful job (fingers crossed!) and my fella comes home from a big long trip. So it's an exciting day nonetheless.

That being said, I have been speaking with several people about the sensation of "new" and "starting" that September brings us all - even those of us not in school. My step mom said she always found September to be the exciting new start, not New Years. I argued that's partly because of marketing, and the way companies use Back To School as a way to sell (because we all need back to school lingerie amiright?). My uncle reminded me that it also goes far far back to the timing of harvests and new seasons, so, the arrival of autumn. He said it had might as well be ingrained in our genetics at this point - that September is the start of something new.

I then realized that these starting times for school are very North-American specific. When I studied in France the timing of vacations and starts and ends were very different.
So it got me wondering: What time of year feels like a time for new beginnings to you, in your part of the world?

I'm so curious about how this differs for cultures and places other than my own, so please share!!

xo

A Thought or Two: Transitions

I wanted to share this photo of my fella and I wearing goofy wigs at my graduation party last weekend. It might just be my new favourite of us, in a silly kind of way. And, what better to go with a photo, than the written word, or many written words? So I thought I would also share some thoughts that have been spinning through my head.

It is such a beautiful thing to move from one life-phase to another without a need for change in your circle of people or your situation. I always fear that things will get thrown in the air at the junctures of my life; the big transitions. I view these moments as joints in a beam of wood that is really two put together as one. No matter how great of a dove tail or feather you do, a joint is still a weak spot.

Making the transition from student to... not, a student, has been a little overwhelming at times and I'm used to these transition phases being a time of re-evaluation: whether on the part of others (about me) or on my part (about others). Right now though, I have such a fantastic set of souls in my life that celebrate the good times with me, take my unnecessarily panicked phone calls in a heartbeat, laugh at all my lame jokes, and listen to me if I need to cry. I am very thankful and happy that this juncture has not shaken my relationships and that my people are in fact, my people.

I love them all very much.

xo