In between the lines
I sit cross legged and watching
Patiently kinetic
curious
The pressure mounts
champagne
bursting
I sit between the lines
and watch for my opening
to reach through
to
the lines
and pluck them, listening
for a tune
the assemblage of tones that
connect
where the lyrics bind
and words are kind
where brutal honesty
doesn't hurt.
I am here...
still
between the lines.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Can't sleep poetry
Quiet masses of balled up impertinence
I see your eyes watching me
The liquid state from which you evolve
Into your gaseous expulsions
I see your eyes watching me
The liquid state from which you evolve
Into your gaseous expulsions
Carnivorous expressions of thick interest
Tied up in tendrils of innocent notions
Lick the sweet nectar of sweeter relief
The silver platter of revulsion.
Tied up in tendrils of innocent notions
Lick the sweet nectar of sweeter relief
The silver platter of revulsion.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Poetry: A blip in the timeline
A blip in the timeline,
really.
One pulse on a heart monitor,
thump.
One memory for the books,
shut.
An echo that reverberates near,
further.
The sensation still lingers,
warm.
One open thought is louder,
arms.
Thumping expression I feel it,
a heartbeat.
Soft words - worried - but spoken,
confusion.
Demons screaming for release,
burned me.
Sadness tinges the relief,
truth.
I wish we could speak,
silence.
Ephemeral words to touch you...
...
belief.
can you feel
...
There could be something greater in you.
pity
really.
One pulse on a heart monitor,
thump.
One memory for the books,
shut.
An echo that reverberates near,
further.
The sensation still lingers,
warm.
One open thought is louder,
arms.
Thumping expression I feel it,
a heartbeat.
Soft words - worried - but spoken,
confusion.
Demons screaming for release,
burned me.
Sadness tinges the relief,
truth.
I wish we could speak,
silence.
Ephemeral words to touch you...
...
belief.
can you feel
...
There could be something greater in you.
pity
Friday, October 23, 2015
late night free verse musings - Overthought
Quietly now, before the indulgence of speech. When the mind pitter patters in a frenetic beat. Perceptions split and curiosities rage in an uninhibited battle for the recesses of ones mind. I ache cleanly for peaceful thinking as I wade neck deep in thick mud. Lyrically speaking everything has meaning but in the ephemeral state of thought I am lost. Constantly keening. Dreaming. Finding meaning. Where is this leading. Stop. Just stop. And breathe deeply. The moments are waiting sweetly. Patient for their time of notice. Existing serenely. I am tight, held fast in this lost and found. Eyes curiously seeking.
Now.
Break the fast.
Bursting
freely.
15.10.23
freely.
15.10.23
Thursday, September 24, 2015
my wild dream
I had the wildest dream the other night. I don't remember many details anymore, except for this one experience that was incredible to have in the vividness of my dreamscape.
I was at some sort of outdoor event. I think it was a strange sport that involved a pool. I remember walking dressed in a beautiful backless dress knowing I had something important to do. I took my seat on some bleachers and then felt an odd feeling... and I knew... I was there. Another me, who'd time traveled?
I turned around and looked at a crowd gathered in a section behind and just off to the side of the bleachers. There I saw someone tall in a light suit holding up his/her hand to their face to shade their eyes from the glare of the bright sun. And I saw a flickering reflection of light off something, making it difficult to see behind the person, but I knew anyway. I knew it was me. I wasn't supposed to make contact, but I smiled mischievously and made a small wave. I swear I saw myself wink back at me.
I turned back around to attend to the game and my purpose there. I had to do something (although I don't remember what). I felt my own eyes watching me but I new I had to maintain focus. It was important to not make people aware that I was both here and there. The dream progressed, I don't remember much except that a bunch of wild and dreamy things happened.
Then found myself in a crowd, and I nudged my way up until I was almost near the front. Someone in a pale suit was in front of me with their arm up to shade the sun from their eyes. Through the space his arm made, I could make out the bleachers and the pool beyond. And then I saw myself in my backless dress, turn to look at me, squinting to try and make me out in the crowd. I couldn't tell if she actually saw me, except that I new that she did, since I'm her, and she tried to suppress a knowing smile and waved surreptitiously, just the tips of her fingers moved, really. I winked at her... we both knew.
I moved away, having to complete my business - my mission, whatever it was - and as I skirted around the crowd I watched the backless dress me from behind as she resolutely kept her eyes forward instead of drawing attention to me. I remember thinking, "Hm, she's really quite beautiful.. I don't know why I'm so self conscious."
Then the dream moved on, and has sunk into the deep recesses of my memory that I cannot reach.
Still, that part was so vivid, so clear and detailed, it felt almost real. As if I had actually time traveled and saw myself from both perspectives.
Wild.
I was at some sort of outdoor event. I think it was a strange sport that involved a pool. I remember walking dressed in a beautiful backless dress knowing I had something important to do. I took my seat on some bleachers and then felt an odd feeling... and I knew... I was there. Another me, who'd time traveled?
I turned around and looked at a crowd gathered in a section behind and just off to the side of the bleachers. There I saw someone tall in a light suit holding up his/her hand to their face to shade their eyes from the glare of the bright sun. And I saw a flickering reflection of light off something, making it difficult to see behind the person, but I knew anyway. I knew it was me. I wasn't supposed to make contact, but I smiled mischievously and made a small wave. I swear I saw myself wink back at me.
I turned back around to attend to the game and my purpose there. I had to do something (although I don't remember what). I felt my own eyes watching me but I new I had to maintain focus. It was important to not make people aware that I was both here and there. The dream progressed, I don't remember much except that a bunch of wild and dreamy things happened.
Then found myself in a crowd, and I nudged my way up until I was almost near the front. Someone in a pale suit was in front of me with their arm up to shade the sun from their eyes. Through the space his arm made, I could make out the bleachers and the pool beyond. And then I saw myself in my backless dress, turn to look at me, squinting to try and make me out in the crowd. I couldn't tell if she actually saw me, except that I new that she did, since I'm her, and she tried to suppress a knowing smile and waved surreptitiously, just the tips of her fingers moved, really. I winked at her... we both knew.
I moved away, having to complete my business - my mission, whatever it was - and as I skirted around the crowd I watched the backless dress me from behind as she resolutely kept her eyes forward instead of drawing attention to me. I remember thinking, "Hm, she's really quite beautiful.. I don't know why I'm so self conscious."
Then the dream moved on, and has sunk into the deep recesses of my memory that I cannot reach.
Still, that part was so vivid, so clear and detailed, it felt almost real. As if I had actually time traveled and saw myself from both perspectives.
Wild.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Musings: if I had no monetary needs
If I had no monetary needs.. I'm pretty sure my life would be submerged in art. I'd have canvases and paint at need to unleash whatever expression I had within me, I'd have studio time and exceptional musical minds to work with to develop whatever floated from our souls, I'd have pen and paper and novels surrounding me in their delicious weight, with brilliant minds to discuss, discern, and develop with....
mm.. what a wonderful dream.
mm.. what a wonderful dream.
He looks at me like he's the spoon...
Prudie: He looks at me like he's the spoon, and I'm this dish of ice cream.
Bernadette: (long exhale) It's a good thing we're reading Sense and Sensibility next.
Sunday, July 26, 2015
Stories: (Tales from my Past) "The Pirate, The Boy, and The Peanut"
A buddy once asked me to write him a story. He said he wanted it to be about a pirate, a boy, and peanut....
And so I wrote.
THE PIRATE, THE BOY, AND THE PEANUT
1080 words
By Kristina Shelden
There once was a young man, who after eating a gooseberry pie spiked with moon juice, fell terribly ill. No one in the young man's town knew what to do, for the boy would respond to no medications or treatments.
Now, everyone knows that the evil pirate, Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen, has in his possession a magical object that could cure all ailments. The boy's parents, fretting themselves raw, and knowing not else what to do, placed the poor sick soul in a fishing boat, and pushed him off to sea. In between his index finger and his thumb they placed an offering. A peanut. (Because everyone also knows Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen can resist not the temptation of a single peanut.) And they prayed to the ocean gods to guide their son safely to a cure.
The gods, being Martians from outer space, and having brought the moon juice to the earthlings, (also knowing all too well the temptation and power of such a magical concoction, and the hangover - OH! The HANGOVER), took pity on the boy and using the ocean currents, guided the boy to R.A.D.M.a.N.
Swiftly the boy’s small boat approached the massive ship commanded by the evil pirate. Angrily he saw the boat approach - such audacity that anyone dare approach his ship and treasures! - and with a grace born of a man at sea, and a grunt befit only of the piratiest of pirates, he swept up a harpoon gun and aimed it levelly at the poor sick young man. Just as his thick evil finger pressed the trigger just a hairs-span in depth, his keen eye caught sight of something that instantly melted his heart.
The peanut.
Without hesitation RADMaN fished the limp figure of the boy out of the rickety craft, and placed him tenderly onto the ships deck, all the while cooing softly to the peanut.
Now his crew knew all to well the warning that was within that soft cooing sound, and slowly backed away from their dread captain, hands held out in supplication for peace. Or at least, sanity.
RADMaN hungrily licked his lips. He rubbed his hands together briskly in anticipation. He opened and closed his mouth with a sloppy slick wet sucking noise. And he grabbed for the peanut with greed in his beady black eye, (eye, in singular, because his other eye was covered with a patch, of course. Pirate.. duh.) and tried to pry the coveted item from the sick boys fingers.
But it didn't budge.
RADMaN blinked stupidly.
He pulled at it again.
It was stuck fast.
Tug, tug.
Nuthin. It wouldn't budge.
He growled and sat back on his haunches. “Yaaaaar me matey’s! What be the deal here?”
His crew looked back at him warily, none knowing the answer.
Suddenly there was a great boom and a crash from over the railing, the sound knocking the dread pirate back to land squarely on his tush with delicate little ‘oopsie!’ only befitting of the daintiest of milkmaids. (“Ahem!” he says, “Yaar.. I mean.. OOF!”)
A deep and powerful voice echoed over the wind. It was a Martian!!
“T’is the Moon Juice you great fool! It has rendered him stiff!”
RADMaN glared sulkily over at the Martian. “Stiff??” he yelled, “But I wants me peanut, yaar!”
The Martian chuckled mightily. “To get it, evil sir, you must SAVE the poor boy! Using your thingbobbit you got from your last raid.”
“SAVE?” The pirate pouted, “But that goes against me morals! What kind of pirate would I be!”
The great being grinned slyly at the prone, dread, evil pirate. “A peanut-less one.” And with that the Martian slipped silent back into the depths of the ocean.
The pirate stared at the boy, who was still, sure enough, stiff as a wet dream. Pursing his lips, he signaled to one of his crew members, who intelligently enough, scurried away to grab the thingbobbit.
After a brief wait, the crewman returned but yanking awkwardly and pulling in tow a very pretty young lady in a blue dress. Attached to her wrist on a thin gold chain, was the thingbobbit.
“But it’s MINE!” She screeched petulantly. “Daddy gave it to ME!!” Her whole body leaned back in protest, her heels planted firmly with her little toes pointed in the air.
The crewman, completely out of his element, looked bewildered and completely at a loss. The dread pirate RADMaN looked up, although hesitantly, from his contemplation of the small peanut planted firmly in the sick boys fingers. His eyes practically making a tearing sound through the air as his gaze pulled away.
“Susana Petunia O’ Indica La Entre Dam!” He boomed. “My daughter, come here now! Yaar!”
Susana stopped her futile tugging at the pitiable crew member, but didn’t move.
“B..b…but…”
“I said, YAAAAAR!”
SPOILED’s eyes turned the size of saucers. With shoulders slumped in defeat, she approached her father. With the purest expression of mope in all the land, she offered up the thingbobbit.
“I really don’t understand what’s so important..” she started, but her father eyed her sternly and her mouth popped closed, albeit with a perfect pout gracing her lower lip.
“I must save this lad,” he said, “to get me my peanut!”
“A PEANUT!!!” she screeched again, “And SAVE a boy! POPPA,” she said deliberately, “WHAT, KIND, OF, PIRATE, ARE, YOU?”
RADMaN grinned greedily. “One with a peanut! Yaar!” he bellowed triumphantly.
He leaned low and placed the thingbobbit directly into the sick youth’s mouth. Instantly his eyes popped open and he was alert and awake. “WHOOoooOOoOoo!” he breathed, “my HEAD!”
Deftly the evil pirate snatched the peanut from the young man’s still groggy fingers and suddenly burst into a jig and sang a yo ho ho pirate song.
Unbeknownst to him, his daughter suddenly turned from petulant spoiled child, to demure young lady. She watched coyly as the young man wobbily stood up. He was a fine figure of a young man, and she noticed. Blinking, he turned to take in his surroundings, and at once was assaulted by the incredibly beauty of RADMaN’s daughter. They stared at each other unabashedly.
RADMaN, giggling contentedly, finished his jig and popped the peanut in his mouth with a satisfying crunch, (shell and all, Pirate’s eh?). Then, he noticed the two young adults.
He looked to his daughter, then he looked to the young man, then back to his daughter.
“Crap,” he said. “Yaar.”
And so I wrote.
THE PIRATE, THE BOY, AND THE PEANUT
1080 words
By Kristina Shelden
There once was a young man, who after eating a gooseberry pie spiked with moon juice, fell terribly ill. No one in the young man's town knew what to do, for the boy would respond to no medications or treatments.
Now, everyone knows that the evil pirate, Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen, has in his possession a magical object that could cure all ailments. The boy's parents, fretting themselves raw, and knowing not else what to do, placed the poor sick soul in a fishing boat, and pushed him off to sea. In between his index finger and his thumb they placed an offering. A peanut. (Because everyone also knows Roberto Arnando Del Montague al Noutzen can resist not the temptation of a single peanut.) And they prayed to the ocean gods to guide their son safely to a cure.
The gods, being Martians from outer space, and having brought the moon juice to the earthlings, (also knowing all too well the temptation and power of such a magical concoction, and the hangover - OH! The HANGOVER), took pity on the boy and using the ocean currents, guided the boy to R.A.D.M.a.N.
Swiftly the boy’s small boat approached the massive ship commanded by the evil pirate. Angrily he saw the boat approach - such audacity that anyone dare approach his ship and treasures! - and with a grace born of a man at sea, and a grunt befit only of the piratiest of pirates, he swept up a harpoon gun and aimed it levelly at the poor sick young man. Just as his thick evil finger pressed the trigger just a hairs-span in depth, his keen eye caught sight of something that instantly melted his heart.
The peanut.
Without hesitation RADMaN fished the limp figure of the boy out of the rickety craft, and placed him tenderly onto the ships deck, all the while cooing softly to the peanut.
Now his crew knew all to well the warning that was within that soft cooing sound, and slowly backed away from their dread captain, hands held out in supplication for peace. Or at least, sanity.
RADMaN hungrily licked his lips. He rubbed his hands together briskly in anticipation. He opened and closed his mouth with a sloppy slick wet sucking noise. And he grabbed for the peanut with greed in his beady black eye, (eye, in singular, because his other eye was covered with a patch, of course. Pirate.. duh.) and tried to pry the coveted item from the sick boys fingers.
But it didn't budge.
RADMaN blinked stupidly.
He pulled at it again.
It was stuck fast.
Tug, tug.
Nuthin. It wouldn't budge.
He growled and sat back on his haunches. “Yaaaaar me matey’s! What be the deal here?”
His crew looked back at him warily, none knowing the answer.
Suddenly there was a great boom and a crash from over the railing, the sound knocking the dread pirate back to land squarely on his tush with delicate little ‘oopsie!’ only befitting of the daintiest of milkmaids. (“Ahem!” he says, “Yaar.. I mean.. OOF!”)
A deep and powerful voice echoed over the wind. It was a Martian!!
“T’is the Moon Juice you great fool! It has rendered him stiff!”
RADMaN glared sulkily over at the Martian. “Stiff??” he yelled, “But I wants me peanut, yaar!”
The Martian chuckled mightily. “To get it, evil sir, you must SAVE the poor boy! Using your thingbobbit you got from your last raid.”
“SAVE?” The pirate pouted, “But that goes against me morals! What kind of pirate would I be!”
The great being grinned slyly at the prone, dread, evil pirate. “A peanut-less one.” And with that the Martian slipped silent back into the depths of the ocean.
The pirate stared at the boy, who was still, sure enough, stiff as a wet dream. Pursing his lips, he signaled to one of his crew members, who intelligently enough, scurried away to grab the thingbobbit.
After a brief wait, the crewman returned but yanking awkwardly and pulling in tow a very pretty young lady in a blue dress. Attached to her wrist on a thin gold chain, was the thingbobbit.
“But it’s MINE!” She screeched petulantly. “Daddy gave it to ME!!” Her whole body leaned back in protest, her heels planted firmly with her little toes pointed in the air.
The crewman, completely out of his element, looked bewildered and completely at a loss. The dread pirate RADMaN looked up, although hesitantly, from his contemplation of the small peanut planted firmly in the sick boys fingers. His eyes practically making a tearing sound through the air as his gaze pulled away.
“Susana Petunia O’ Indica La Entre Dam!” He boomed. “My daughter, come here now! Yaar!”
Susana stopped her futile tugging at the pitiable crew member, but didn’t move.
“B..b…but…”
“I said, YAAAAAR!”
SPOILED’s eyes turned the size of saucers. With shoulders slumped in defeat, she approached her father. With the purest expression of mope in all the land, she offered up the thingbobbit.
“I really don’t understand what’s so important..” she started, but her father eyed her sternly and her mouth popped closed, albeit with a perfect pout gracing her lower lip.
“I must save this lad,” he said, “to get me my peanut!”
“A PEANUT!!!” she screeched again, “And SAVE a boy! POPPA,” she said deliberately, “WHAT, KIND, OF, PIRATE, ARE, YOU?”
RADMaN grinned greedily. “One with a peanut! Yaar!” he bellowed triumphantly.
He leaned low and placed the thingbobbit directly into the sick youth’s mouth. Instantly his eyes popped open and he was alert and awake. “WHOOoooOOoOoo!” he breathed, “my HEAD!”
Deftly the evil pirate snatched the peanut from the young man’s still groggy fingers and suddenly burst into a jig and sang a yo ho ho pirate song.
Unbeknownst to him, his daughter suddenly turned from petulant spoiled child, to demure young lady. She watched coyly as the young man wobbily stood up. He was a fine figure of a young man, and she noticed. Blinking, he turned to take in his surroundings, and at once was assaulted by the incredibly beauty of RADMaN’s daughter. They stared at each other unabashedly.
RADMaN, giggling contentedly, finished his jig and popped the peanut in his mouth with a satisfying crunch, (shell and all, Pirate’s eh?). Then, he noticed the two young adults.
He looked to his daughter, then he looked to the young man, then back to his daughter.
“Crap,” he said. “Yaar.”
Musings: Unfinished creations
I think there's nothing worse than having the need to create, the need to develop an idea or thought that's budding deep inside, a seed that's growing with unbridled abandon... It's a surge of desire that fills you utterly, immensely, it feels like it can't be contained. You have to let it out. You need to let it out.
But you can't.
It stays there, unfinished.
But you can't.
It stays there, unfinished.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
A big thank you from your Turtle Dancer after the 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge
 |
| Kristina E, Kristina S, and Kristin S at the 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge in support of Spinal Cord Injury BC |
This year was my first year participating in the Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge, and I set what I honestly thought was an unreachable goal of $1000. I am deeply humbled and overjoyed at the reminder of how generous and amazing the people are in my life. With your help, I raised $1,100!!!! I'm still in awe over how ridiculously awesome you all are. Thank you. THANK YOU to those who donated. I know that there are many worthy causes out there and it means a lot to me that you shared your hard earned dollars in support of an organization that means so much to me.
 |
| Turtle Dancer Sports Card for SCI-BC 2015 Scotiabank 5k Charity Challenge |
The day of the 'run' I was fortunate to have two amazing friends, Kristina E and Kristin S, join me. I'm so lucky to have such supportive and amazing people in my life. Although I had every intention to at least try to walk then entire 5k, we brought along a wheelchair just in case. After 1k I already felt serious fatigue starting to kick in. To be honest, right then I wanted to plop my tush into that inviting seat, but my amazing friends encouraged me try going "just a little bit further". And I did! Another entire kilometer in fact. I'm kind of proud of that! It's amazing how far our bodies will actually take us if we don't immediately give in.
But by the 2k point, I was pretty near falling over, and I was so far behind the pack I wasn't sure we'd even finish the race in time, so I did get into the chair. Then these phenomenal women took turns pushing me. It was actually a total blast! Both of them felt like jogging so I got to zoom past the stragglers and rejoin the throng of people involved in the 5k. I've gotta say, it's a small thing, easily taken for granted, but it felt amazing to have the wind blow against us as we moved quickly back up to the pack. And having never participated in a run like this before, I was surprised by, and absolutely loved, the cheering people on the sides of the way encouraging us on. Whoever thought to start doing that is a brilliant person. So fun!
After being given that rest, and having been reinvigorated by the fun, I decided that I would walk the final kilometer. I wanted to cross the finish line on my feet.
I'm proud to say that I did.
My friends and I had decided to turtle dance at every kilometer mark, and we fully jiggled a good wiggle at each marker, but as promised to my donators I videod my turtle dance across the finish line. I apologize for the goofiness of the video! We did try to make another one with all three of us but unfortunately it didn't work. Still, here is my Turtle Dance Finish:
**Okay so I tried to inlay the video and it wouln't work.. so here's a link to facebook!
https://www.facebook.com/kristina.luyu/videos/vob.534005474/10155764853380475/?type=2&theater
Thank you again to everyone who supported me and who helped Spinal Cord Injury BC reach its fundraising goals. Help post-injury is so needed - our entire lives change in ways we can't even explain, and it's amazing to have an organization dedicated to helping people return to full, productive, happy lives.
THANK YOU!!!!
Your Turtle Dancer
Saturday, June 27, 2015
7 years... Today's tears and tomorrows victories.
7 years ago this evening....
You know, I try hard to make my lifeaversary a celebratory thing. I'm the kinda gal that likes to dust herself off, and move on. I think it's pointless to dwell on things you can't change, and even more pointless to swim in misery for the things you can.
Sometimes, though, that's not so easy.
So, for today, I think I'm gonna allow myself a little bit of feelin shitty. I think I might cry a little, too. Yup, sure am. Oh, hello salty tears, thought you'd come by for a visit mm? Stay a little while and wallow with me. I think it's okay, today.
Sometimes shit just fucking sucks. I still remember a body that could do anything I reasonably asked of it. And although I've done a lot of moving on, I still miss it. I can't seem to stop myself, today, from remembering when my body still fully worked. It's like a sharp dagger from the past, slinking through the depths of time to pierce this armor I've built for myself, poking holes that allow me to see with a strange sort of clairty what I 'once was'. - The young woman who ran the length of long beach in Tofino, who climbed mountains in Spain, who had unstoppable passion and verve and had the ability to fully express it. The young woman who chose to walk to Granville Island from the skytrain just because it felt good and took the 5 flights of stairs up to work because she enjoyed the feeling. The young woman who kinda felt like she could do anything she put her mind to.
I've come a long way, I know... I'm proud of the person I've managed to etch out of a challenging situation - a person who in large part remains quite independent, and still finds as much laughter in life as she can.
The thing is, today, I morn for the past... I do. I can't seem to stop. Maybe that's what today is for.
Tomorrow I'm taking part in a 5k charity challenge that supports Spinal Cord Injury BC. I won't be able to run it, no, and maybe won't even be able to walk the entire distance.. but I'm going to try. And I'll be surrounded by other people who will be incredibly supportive and caring.
Maybe today is the day for tears.
And tomorrow will be for victories.
You know, I try hard to make my lifeaversary a celebratory thing. I'm the kinda gal that likes to dust herself off, and move on. I think it's pointless to dwell on things you can't change, and even more pointless to swim in misery for the things you can.
Sometimes, though, that's not so easy.
So, for today, I think I'm gonna allow myself a little bit of feelin shitty. I think I might cry a little, too. Yup, sure am. Oh, hello salty tears, thought you'd come by for a visit mm? Stay a little while and wallow with me. I think it's okay, today.
Sometimes shit just fucking sucks. I still remember a body that could do anything I reasonably asked of it. And although I've done a lot of moving on, I still miss it. I can't seem to stop myself, today, from remembering when my body still fully worked. It's like a sharp dagger from the past, slinking through the depths of time to pierce this armor I've built for myself, poking holes that allow me to see with a strange sort of clairty what I 'once was'. - The young woman who ran the length of long beach in Tofino, who climbed mountains in Spain, who had unstoppable passion and verve and had the ability to fully express it. The young woman who chose to walk to Granville Island from the skytrain just because it felt good and took the 5 flights of stairs up to work because she enjoyed the feeling. The young woman who kinda felt like she could do anything she put her mind to.
I've come a long way, I know... I'm proud of the person I've managed to etch out of a challenging situation - a person who in large part remains quite independent, and still finds as much laughter in life as she can.
The thing is, today, I morn for the past... I do. I can't seem to stop. Maybe that's what today is for.
Tomorrow I'm taking part in a 5k charity challenge that supports Spinal Cord Injury BC. I won't be able to run it, no, and maybe won't even be able to walk the entire distance.. but I'm going to try. And I'll be surrounded by other people who will be incredibly supportive and caring.
Maybe today is the day for tears.
And tomorrow will be for victories.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
Musings: an ephemeral hug
Sometimes I wish, in some magical way, you could know when someone is thinking about you. That you could turn on some psychic switch, like going online, and open yourself up to their thoughts. That way, no matter the time, the distance, no matter the reason for loneliness, you could know that you are connected - you could feel connected. Lit up in the comfort of connection in any space or time. An ephemeral hug that spans any barrier.
I think that would be beautiful.
I think that would be beautiful.
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Garlic
A tip I recently discovered:
"Did you know... To remove garlic odour from your hands, rinse with lemon juice or scrub with salt and then rinse with cold water."
My question... WHO WOULD WANT TO REMOVE GARLIC ODOR FROM THEIR HANDS?
omnomnomngh could smell that ambrosia all day.
"Did you know... To remove garlic odour from your hands, rinse with lemon juice or scrub with salt and then rinse with cold water."
My question... WHO WOULD WANT TO REMOVE GARLIC ODOR FROM THEIR HANDS?
omnomnomngh could smell that ambrosia all day.
poetry - it still looks a little raw
duct tape across my mouth
tight bindings that chafe and burn
salt tingling, drops of yearning
I look down at the space between my breasts
jaws clench in muted frustration
it still looks a little raw
my fingers fiddle with a lip of tape about my wrists
a fault in my bindings that I've worked free
and can undo
I consider that...
this space is uncomfortable
begs for fulfulment
no amount of denial, of persistence,
of repeating that the bare walls are beautiful as they are
changes the reality that I want this place different.
If only that paint were a different colour
And I wasn't fucking tied up.
tight bindings that chafe and burn
salt tingling, drops of yearning
I look down at the space between my breasts
jaws clench in muted frustration
it still looks a little raw
my fingers fiddle with a lip of tape about my wrists
a fault in my bindings that I've worked free
and can undo
I consider that...
this space is uncomfortable
begs for fulfulment
no amount of denial, of persistence,
of repeating that the bare walls are beautiful as they are
changes the reality that I want this place different.
If only that paint were a different colour
And I wasn't fucking tied up.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Help me TurtleDance through 5k's for SCI-BC!
On June 28th, I'm participating in the 2015 Scotiabank Charity Challenge at the Scotiabank Vancouver Half Marathon & 5k while raising funds for Spinal Cord Injury BC.
7 years ago, on June 27th, I was in a car accident that left me completely paralyzed. I had broken my neck. I was told I had a 10% chance to walk again, and that no one really knew how much I would gain back. By some miracle, I spent only 5 weeks at VGH, and a comparably short time of 7 weeks at GF Strong physical rehabilitation centre. I walked out. (Well, limped :p)
This date is rather special to me. I call it my "Lifeaversary". The anniversary of the day I almost died, but lived instead. To celebrate I am going to walk the entire 5k in support of an organization that helps people with spinal cord injuries adjust, adapt, and thrive. This cause is close to my heart, for they've helped me in so many ways too.
I can tell you that any help is invaluable to a person learning to deal with, and continues to live with, a spinal cord injury. SCI-BC is a non-profit organization that helps people post injury adjust to their new lives by providing resources to adaptive options such as sports, housing, vehicles, community activities, peer support.. you name it. The doctors kept us alive, SCI-BC helps us LIVE again.
Please help me walk those 5k's... it won't be easy, (holy doodle it won't be easy!!) but I want to accomplish it!
Thank you so much for your generosity and support. It is so appreciated and valued. Any amount helps! Please don't be shy to donate any amount you can. It all adds up!!
And if I reach my goal, I promise to do a turtle dance at the finish line!!!!
You can help support me by making a secure online donation using your credit card. Click on the link below:
https://secure.e2rm.com/registrant/FundraisingPage.aspx?SID=(!SolicitationID)&LangPref=en-CA&EID=154764
All pledges will receive an official tax receipt.
For more information on how YOU can participate in the 2015 Scotiabank Charity Challenge at the Scotiabank Vancouver Half Marathon & 5k, please visit us at http://www.canadarunningseries.com/svhm/index.htm.
Thanks for your support!
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