Something ’bout Simplicity.

“It’s the little things, but they all add up.”

I sprinkle that mesh of words into scenarios frequently. Because I am a big believer and lover of simplicity. Sure, I absolutely adore the big brimmed hat the shy girl on the corner of Yonge Street is sporting but it’s the way the hat tips and her coat sits and where her purse hits that makes for stronger pictures. Stronger feelings. Everything is art. 

I like messy beds and over worn pyjamas. I like the wild silence on the subway in a car full of fifty strangers. I like uneven footprints in the snow and melting flakes on eyelashes that make your mascara run. I like aged cracks in the pavement and a paper bag caught in the gutter from someone’s lunch. I like worn out edges of over read novels and fingerprints on the car window. I like holes in t-shirts and the sound of coffee brewing at 8am. I like imperfect smiles, frown lines and scars with stories. I like how you look at me. I like empty wine glasses on the counter from the night before and newspapers on the train seat next to you that have been touched by numerous hands. I like water stains on the bathroom mirror and cloudy airplane trails in the sky. I like how you make me feel. I like the souls sense of serendipity and the touch of a first dance. I like blueberry stains on my fingers and the morning after nose scrunch of a too-many-drinks text. I like the lipstick stains on coffee cups and the sound of a key in the lock after a long day. I like you.

Everything is art. -k

IMG_20150202_003002_edit

‘The simple things are the most extraordinary things and only the wise can see them.’

Advertisements

Hello Summer in the City.

Signs of summer: Now that the windows are open, at this time everyday while working from home, the smell of eggs and bacon comes through the window from the restaurant below my apartment and it’s kind of a comfort thing.

I absolutely love getting up north and escaping the concrete jungle on weekends in the summer. But I absolutely love taking advantage of weekends where there is no concrete jungle escape. So about the last one…

There are far too many choices on the Saturday/Sunday shuffle in the city. This is a trigger for my extreme case of FOMO. (That fear of missing out thing… and my continued case of trying something new. Crossfit started this past Sunday!) This past weekend some friends and I chose the west end, specifically the Dundas West Fest. Street festivals are kinda sorta maybe my favourite summer thing to do in the city. You really don’t feel like you’re in the city; visiting vendors, the smell of BBQ that takes you back to swimming in your Grandparents backyard as a kid and a few cocktails with friends at a fold up table curb side, people watching to end the day. I like it that way. While sipping on a dark and stormy, visuals of acceptance stood out in the little fenced off patio where we sat and it was so refreshing. People expressing themselves through laughter and clothing layers and love with no labels. Being able to be completely yourself and accepted is one of the biggest highs. Being loved for being perfectly imperfect. In a field where you’re ‘judged’ for your looks and presence and what comes out of your mouth daily (which I chose to be a part of), I crave what I absorbed on Dundas West some days. This morning I read this saying on instagram and it’s bang on –> Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide. SO TRUE. It was nice to hide this past weekend. And when we all had to move inside the bar at sundown, everyone picked up their own table and chairs and helped carry them inside to put away and that was super cool to me. It’s just a little thing but they all add up. -k

IMG_20140607_162756IMG_20140607_191525IMG_20140607_191633IMG_20140607_195339IMG_20140607_201729IMG_20140607_195346IMG_20140607_192712IMG_20140607_221119IMG_20140607_185705IMG_20140608_140624IMG_20140608_140558IMG_20140608_154210IMG_20140608_160958IMG_20140608_161022IMG_20140608_162817

Shh.

Sometimes you just need a break in a beautiful place, alone, to figure everything out.

I scrolled over that quote with my birks in the sand at the cottage a couple of weekends ago and it inspired the above video. Simplicity is super awesome and super powerful. ‘Summer life’, which I’ve dug into over the past couple of weeks since the basketball season came to a close, is pretty simple for me. I’ve been reminding myself of the things that make me tick and that their presence is a must somewhere between the beep beep beep of the morning alarm and setting it at sundown. Try it. -k

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