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

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Just because.

I’m just going to talk for a moment. Through text and type.

Ah. Mama told me to take a breath tonight. The final buzzer rang on the Raptors season last night. That’s the end of seven for me. I don’t know anything else since I received my diploma from post secondary. I think it’s only appropriate to insert ‘life flies when you’re having fun’ right about here. Someone instagrammed something about how incredible it is when passion and career collide. I sit here nodding my head as I type that.

You know, blogging is an interesting thing. Trusting that people want to read your tumbling late night thoughts is hard. Growing up is hard. Finding your place in the world is hard. Trusting that what you’ve become as you’ve grown up and found your place in the world is hard. Thankfully I’m a sucker for a good fight.

I feel a fight coming. And I’m okay with it. An artists life is a competitive venture. Trusting that you’ve got what it takes is hard. I’m one thousand percent that person that feels everything that breezes by them through looks and words and motions and sits on the couch or subway or office chair analyzing the shit out of it on days where I feel stuck. I don’t love those moments and I’m still figuring out how to give them the finger. It’s hard for me to type that. It’s scary for me to press publish.

I’m a private person which reminds me how whacky it is that I share my life tales through social media daily. What I wear, what I think, where I am, what I drink … cheers.

Every piece of text needs a purpose. So what was the purpose of this? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just a free falling expression of something that I needed to get out. Maybe it’s that I hope that I can connect with you. Like we’re standing side by side on the same level. That we feel the same. That makes me feel safe. Everybody’s got their something. It doesn’t matter what you do or drive or dare say. Your turn. -k

Hungry like a Wolf.

With morning coffee and a blank page waiting for me to add words of wisdom, I clicked into Pinterest as my creativity time out because my words weren’t wise and my coffee was getting damn cold. Then bam; my eyes absorbed the following:

“Nobody can tell you if what you’re doing is good, meaningful or worthwhile. The more compelling the path, the more lonely it is. Most of us are unknowingly trained to NOT trust in our own judgment. Our parents made decisions for us, our teachers told us how things should be done, and society has its own rules on what is right and wrong. After being beat down by authority for years on end, many people just become one of the sheep. They follow the status quo. It’s easier that way. The wolfs, also known as the stubborn trouble makers (I was one, still am) tend to have their own ideas of how things should be. They stand away from the crowd, make waves and piss a lot of people off. But they also find great happiness, because they follow their own dreams and make their own plans. Their lives tend to end up just the way they want them to. Wolfs trust in their own desires. They lean towards the professions that they were meant (made) to do. Wolfs are the innovators, the inventors and artists and writers. They ignore everybody. They have to or they’d never get things done.” ~ Hugh MacLeod

From my experience the path is not understood by most. And the ones that envy it don’t realize that it can be a lonely path. That dip into self discovery and self trust gives me goosebumps just thinking about it sometimes. Because there are still moments where I don’t trust what I produce. My italics, shapes, the way I express the stories in my head without opening my mouth. This morning was one of those moments. That leap into the unknown. But then those epiphany moments void all of the rest. That personal victory that can come from something so small. So as I sit here listening to nothing but the hum of rush hour traffic through a cracked window and the melody of my keyboard clicks, my coffee cup is refilled with diet gingerale and I go on with the blind race. I guess I just needed some wise words to help me with mine.

And thank you to a favourite person of mine for this thoughtful gift for future endeavours. I named her SJP. This is her first entry. -k

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Love, risk and money.

At 4:43am we talked about regret and I said I don’t regret any motives, moments or mentions because as fucked up as some of them can be they all lead to that victorious goodness that’s somewhere soon. I keep catching it staring at me but then it disappears again.

If you could do one thing right at this moment and know that you would not fail, what would it be?

Sometimes the challenge of being patient is a painful thing that I serve to myself. Currently in the middle of a phase and doing very well according to my personal patience meter.

I have an addiction of putting myself in movie type scenarios. Minus the chair with my name on it and the bank account and the Vera Wang gown. I don’t think I try to get there half of the time. Never really. Life just takes me there. Insert Sinatra’s “that’s life” mantra.

And sometimes I produce these role played scenarios in my mind. Just like the carefree five-year old in her mama’s pearls, sitting at her tea party and asking the wind if he’d like extra sugar as she stirs. They’re my desires and ice cream hopes without the selfish extra scoop because the world doesn’t have a hint. And then days go by and I’m suddenly immersed within my imaginary tales. Leading lady. Mama always tells me to write down what I want to happen. Maybe she’s right. And I don’t know who to thank. So if you’re in this moment with me… watching, reading, kicking me in the ass… mucho thanks. -k

It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.