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remember sitting across the table at a cafe with your friend? no masks, just laughter and tears and closeness...

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i walk with my head up up up.

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i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you.

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this is an image of a jet plane's trail seen from cypress mountain. it was lit up by the colours of the sunset on the opposite side of the sky. it represents need in many ways i think. i have felt very isolated during this time, as i think many others can relate to, and this singular trail looked so lonely in the sky. there are far fewer planes overhead, and the slopes of the ski hills are much quieter. there is such a need, such a craving within me for human connection, for togetherness, for unity, still, this singular trail was lit up brightly by the sun, and everyone stopped to look at it. maybe it wasn't a lonely sight anymore... perhaps it was full of meaning, and united us all on the mountain, all staring at the same sky, and at the same aeroplane trail.

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i made this for another class, but it still has meaning. this loneliness is cavernous.

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i got a kitten on March 1st 2020, and she's been a physical marker of how long this pandemic has been going on. kitten to full grown cat for her, outgoing social person to quarantine nervous introvert for me.

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this show broke me open to life and love and creativity like no other piece of television. words i associate with it : overwhelming, lively, broken, pillowy, longing, pain, anguish, magnificent, sunshine, quivering, complicated, frivolity, ridicule, touch, sensuous, smooth, hands, lipstick, openness, gasping.

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struck by overwhelming love for this city where i live.

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why does this two line poem hold so much? it's relieving to see it on a page.

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https://giphy.com/gifs/pLEbj5YhtcYDFs4zKS/html5

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i'm reading a lot of sappho right now. can you tell?

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i found this on one of my daily walks. i had never heard of the word "otiose", but now i have! it looked like a poem coupled with the "was yielding, now exacting".

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singing in a choir since the age of 5 has engrained patterns and rhythms into my body and brain to a degree so deep, it is a part of me, through and through. i live and breathe music and notation, and no longer have to think deeply about the beats on the page, and instead, it is now inside of my whole body, easily counted and measured in a way that is completely second nature. with this in mind, my poetry may begin to be guided, after years of practice, by my body instead of rigidly counting out syllables and measuring every word. i hope to reach a point wherein it flows like music out of my fingers onto the page.

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expeditiously deliciously they came to repose

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i came across this log while walking at the beach, and it reminded me of a snake, with its clear pattern and smooth texture.