let's take a little trip

 In 1977, when I was almost 15 years old, 

my parents sold our house in eastern Canada,

filled a U-Haul with our furniture,

and drove the five of us

across Canada to move to Calgary, Alberta.

We had moved before, several times -

but never this far (4,600 km)

and never to such an unknown place.

We left on May 17th

and I decided to keep a journal along the way.

I have 10 pages of handwritten notes,

detailing everything from the weather

to the cost of food and gas in each province.

Why a 14 year old girl

would be interested in the price of gas

is a mystery to me,

but i'm guessing I was doing it for dad.

I know one thing.

I LOVED writing, even then.

And i especially loved handwriting.

I still do.

When I found these notes the other day,

i typed them all up, printed the pages

and gave them to my dad, 

for him to read.

When I called him later 

to ask if he had read it,

he replied:

I read it 3 times.

He loved reading it

and remembered the trip in his own way.

We had taken something like

6 days to drive there.

He said he had forgotten

so many things about that trip

but that my words had reminded him. :)

That's the joy of stories and words, isn't it?

Whether it was created from imagination

or memory,

it's such a fabulous way

to transport us back to a specific time.

To a specific place.

To a specific feeling,

good or bad.

Sometimes, is allows us to see

how much we've changed.

How much we've grown.

I've kept so many things from my past,

i'm afraid if there ever was a fire in here

the whole place would go up in smoke in minutes

because of all the damn paper in here. ;)

I keep things like this.

Yes, i do.

Because you never know

when i'll feel like being hypnotized

by pink & blue & orange rectangles

with a tiny ladder in the center. ;)

I don't keep EVERYTHING though.

I'm not a hoarder.

I only keep the art stuff.

Which is basically everything. 

(never mind). ;)

I got a bit of art done this week,

but more reading & watching movies than art.

 Still, a few sketches that were fun to do.

I also spent some quality time with friends,

which is always worth so much to me.

Another little note i found, 

from when i was doing some soul searching

a few years ago.

These were some of the things

I wanted to do in the coming years.

I've done or I AM doing most of them,

except attend Burning Man -

which is something i'd still like to do

at some point in my life. ;)

When I found this,

I was amazed at how many of these things

became reality for me.

I bought a kayak just last year

and used it regularly in the summer.

I've recently started yoga 

and i love it.

It does the body & mind so much good...

I do it at home, 

in the comfort of my living room,

because i'm not a gym kinda gal,

and there's a slim chance

exercise is gonna happen for me

if it means "going out" in the dead of winter.

I go for occasional walks outside

when the weather permits as well.

I still need to work on the "go on more excursions" 

and the "become mindful of what i eat" one too.

I'm not sure i'm too mindful

when i'm stuffing my face with a bag of chips. ;)

Thanks for being here, folks.

ENJOY the weekend!

xox

migraine, music & dad...

I spent much of the day yesterday nursing a migraine...

 

by 8pm last night, i was feeling a little better & thought i would venture into my blue room...

At this point, i knew this one was not meant to be a happy face... :-)

So i just let it go where it wanted to go.

...and in the end, it's not so bad. 

It kinda gives a face to the word MIGRAINE, doesn't it?
I just hope i don't look like this when i get them. :-) 

On another note, I want to share a little story about my father. 

My father was a carpenter. A good one. A respected one. 

He's been officially retired for several years,
although he's kept himself busy with odd jobs here & there. 

Then a year ago, he had a severe heart attack, and needed open heart surgery.

He could no longer do the things he used to do.
He needed to scale down, big time.
It took a while to adjust, but eventually he did, and within months of being back home 

he made this...

A birdhouse / bird feeder.

Dad doesn't do anything half assed.

These little birdhouses reminded me that even when life changes drastically,
and so many things are taken away from you,
the need for creative expression remains.
The need to have purpose. The need to feel useful.

And for a carpenter like my father,
the profound need to do something with his hands. To make something.

I think i understand
where i get my art heart. :-)

Where do you get your art heart?