West Coast Ways – Day Three.

I asked a friend the other day, ‘how’s that bucketlist of yours looking?’ I found a version of mine folded up in the back of my journal this summer with the date 2006 on it. The wild part about it was that I sat there ticking off some dreams that became reality when I didn’t even realize I was putting energy into making it happen. Some were small like surf in Malibu and my continuous quest to hit every baseball stadium across the states which is a work in progress. But some were on the next level scale like host my own TV show and get a photo professionally published. I’ve been given the same advice more than once in my life from people that I admire with great respect; write down what you want even if you don’t know how you’re going to get there. And keep writing because as the pages fill up things with scribbles and scratches, things will become clearer and you’ll find yourself checking off bucketlist dreams one day too. I challenge you to try it.

One of my little wishes was visit wine country in California. So the ladies and I set foot on Sonoma Valley soil on a Sunday funday last month. Check. -k

What you think, you become. What you feel, you attract. What you imagine, you create. -Buddha

DSC_0068DSC_0079DSC_0078DSC_0083DSC_0085DSC_0096DSC_0089DSC_0102DSC_0101DSC_0106DSC_0114DSC_0082

Signs.

photo-16What if I fall? Oh, my darling, what if you fly?

I do believe in signs from the universe as guidance in verifying that you are in the right place. Mom always said they’re out there, you just have to ask for them. She also said white feathers mean that your angels are with you. So white feathers are kind of a comfort thing. -k

West Coast Ways – Day Two.

It’s Friday night in Toronto and I’m sitting on my balcony while the rest of the city says cheers to the weekend and fights the urge to tame the wild child inside of them. I’m watching them chase each other down the street six floors below. It makes me kinda happy because I know that buzz of being in a good place. That feeling of letting the bad shit go.

Saturdaaaay in the park was pretty perfect in San Francisco. Dolores Park reminded me of Trinity Bellwoods here in Toronto. The eclectic people pulling together parties of four or five or fifteen on a patch of grass with a view of the city that you seed with hopes and what ifs and scary but reachable success. I’m at the age where I flutter between back then and the future, unsure of tomorrow but sure of what I want tomorrow to be. The ‘on top of the hump’ part with the anxiety but excitement for the free fall. And these mini time outs from reality to relax and laugh and discuss where you are and where you want to be with people in the same boat kind of fuel your drive. I spoke with people that ventured from across the states and Canada that all met on one blanket and unknowingly said cheers to getting here.

And the view? Well that just adds to the awesome… -k

DSC_0017DSC_0019DSC_0022DSC_0023DSC_0034DSC_0037DSC_0046DSC_0051photo-14photo-15photo-12DSC_0055DSC_0066photo-13

Hello Stranger.

Hey, good lookin’. I haven’t visited you for a few months. I just took a glance from your head to your toes. Your pretty pages of you. Ran my tired eyes over the wild wordplay and soothing snapshots of your yesterdays. You’ve done good for yourself, kid. You trusted your feet to dance upon unsturdy beams of unknown pleasures and didn’t stop words that you believed in escape from your throat. It looks like you’re smiling, kid. Keep smiling, kid.

It’s been a minute. I just lit a candle and poured a late night glass of red. As the clock ticks towards Monday, I sit here with the intention of continuing for a moment the simple silent bliss of a nothing special but very special type of weekend. Diving into heartfelt nostalgia is hard to fight when the moon takes flight. Sometimes I sensor my sensitivity. As the days progress I’m more thankful for feeling things others may not. And thankful for pages to purge growing up observations on and having the guts to do so. I know we never stop growing up physically but what about internally? We are constantly rearranging our beliefs and values. The way we handle a negative conversation or disappointment. The way we treat people no matter their status or stigmas. The way we handle success.

It’s been a whirlwind of a month or so. I feel like those words settle on these pages often. It’s an exhausting and therapeutic kind of flow both mentally and physically. And if you ask about those advocates of “me time”, I’m standing front row nodding my head at it’s importance. I’m reflecting on the wonderful before I tuck it away under my pillow. A couple of so called ‘days off’ fell into my agenda this weekend and I filled them with things I needed for my soul. You know, fab friends and family phone calls, photography, french fries and fairy tales. We went for a walk in the park. We danced in front of the fireplace when 2 o’clock was the new 1 o’clock. We watched Sunday football and I instagrammed pictures of the simple places we had been. Damn those simple things are simply so good.

As the calendar flips to a new month here are the things I’m working on:
Not worrying so much about what other people think.
Trusting that my talent and beliefs are enough.
That it’s okay to disconnect for a moment or two.
A new chicken recipe.
Getting back to my running pace. Damn you, injuries.
Remembering that worrying is silly because in the end it’s going to be the same outcome.

And these are the things that I am thankful for:
Opportunity. Whether it’s comfortable or scares the shit out of me.
The eight Raptors seasons that I’ve been able to be a part of and the opportunities for growth and change over them all.
My family for attending all eight home openers with support and warmth. I think I waved at them like fourteen times.
Inner city vacations.
People coming into your life for reasons you don’t realize until the awesome aftermath.
The crazy way dance keeps coming into my life even when I swore I had retired from rond de jambes.
My mom giving me her banana bread recipe. (My boyfriend and roomie are thankful too.)
My friends, whether new or old, for their constant support during my crazy artistic endeavours.

It’s still hard for me to press publish sometimes. I’m still growing through the self doubt pains.
But when you get to do what makes you tick, life is good.
And I won’t be gone when the morning comes.
-k

I wrote this for those who are like me. -Tin Star

photo-93