If you find a stray pop­py­seed, try squeez­ing the oil out of it with the edge of a fin­ger­nail. It smells delicious.

1 year, 10 months ago

I almost bought a Seagull S6 Slim 6-string acoustic gui­tar today, hand­made in Quebec with Canadian ceder. #cov­et­ing

1 year, 10 months ago

Hong Kong Toaist Association plans to apply to the Hong Kong gov­ern­ment for mak­ing Lao Tsu’s birth­day a pub­lic hol­i­day”. Shaking my head.

1 year, 10 months ago

Why do ukulele strings get sharper? Is the tun­ing nut set­tling tighter? Or the wood of the ukulele warp­ing from humid­ity? #unsolved­mys­ter­ies

1 year, 10 months ago

Next To You

Found footage, cap­tured with my small CCD cam­corder. It strug­gles in low light sit­u­a­tions, but when I brought up the lev­els in post, out came this amaz­ing grain that gives it such a wist­ful texture.

When watch­ing this, my eyes tend to grav­i­tate to her hands; the way she moves them with a light, but firm touch, whether it’s get­ting Dolly to sit down, or brush­ing cat hair from her nose. They were artists hands. Not par­tic­u­larly strik­ing, but filled with del­i­cate dex­ter­ity. Sometimes, I’d kiss the tip of each fin­ger, and she’d tease me by pulling her hand away before I could finish.

It must have been one win­ter morn­ing, after a run out to Second Cup with their holiday-themed paper cups, watch­ing The Blue Planet in the com­fort of a blan­ket with a cat by our side.

Only after find­ing this footage did I start to believe that my mem­o­ries were real, and not just imag­i­na­tions caught between the haze of desire and denial.

We existed. We existed.

Even if only for a few moments, as won­der­ful as they were fleet­ing, one of them cap­tured in 24 frames per second.

Dear Hallmark: your gift bags are over­priced when they cost more than the gifts that go inside them.

1 year, 10 months ago

Loving Lisa’s Google Talk sta­tus: “Help fuck can­cer by pledg­ing me in the relay for life”.

1 year, 10 months ago

On The Path

I’ve been feel­ing serene lately.

Serenity hasn’t been some­thing that lasts for me. It comes and goes in cycles. Eventually, I fall off the path, because anger, impa­tience, love, over-analyzing, are all habits of mine. Habits that resur­face when I let my guard down.

The goal now is to keep the seren­ity going. The hard­est part is the fact that I have to be con­scious in my attempt. It’s a con­stant work in progress, and some­thing I can’t stop work­ing on, lest I fall into the trap of my old self again. I’m hop­ing that even­tu­ally, I’ll be able to make this into a good habit, and this peace will come on its own.

So often, it’s hope that gets me through. But I have no need of hope, or clo­sure, or jus­tice any­more. None of that mat­ters. Life is what it is. I’m start­ing to let go of every­thing I used to hold dear.

Wow, South Park is the last TV show I expected to hear Samuel Barber’s Adagio For Strings. And they used it so fuck­ing well.

1 year, 10 months ago

Dinner with two of the nicest ladies (and their won­der­ful accents) became three hours of con­ver­sa­tion. Business + plea­sure = awesome.

1 year, 10 months ago

How do I spill ice cream on myself every time I eat from the tub? I should just get caramel and choco­late coloured paja­mas. #ben jerrys

1 year, 10 months ago

Start writ­ing let­ter. Get angry. Throw out let­ter. Repeat.

1 year, 10 months ago

29 5/12: The Uncarved

If, 5 years ago, you asked me where I’d be now, I couldn’t have even given you a decent guess.

I never imag­ined I’d be work­ing in graphic and web design at a den­tal lab. Or that my job would shift to more of a cor­po­rate level, some­thing that hap­pened because I hap­pened to have the right set of skills at the right time.

Self portrait at 29 5/12

 

I never imag­ined I’d meet peo­ple like Bronwen or Julie or Heather, or Frédéric and Misun, or Jesse and Audra, or Shane and Krista.

I never thought I’d dis­cover bands like Magneta Lane, The Knife, From Autumn to Ashes, and Muse.

I never knew I’d start play­ing the ukulele. Or have an art gallery show. Or finally, finally, finally start learn­ing astron­omy and own a telescope.

But I’m not sur­prised at where I’ve ended up. And who knows who I’ll meet, what I’ll do, or where I’ll be? Long ago, I decided I’d stay in Ottawa until my Tai Chi teacher retired, and that’s soon com­ing. This city is com­fort­able, but it’s also just as small, and I’ve always dreamed of liv­ing in an alpha city like Hong Kong or New York or London.

It’s easy to fall into the belief that we’re in con­trol of our lives or our des­tinies. The real­ity is that we’re just trav­el­ing through life like leaves being car­ried by the cur­rent in a stream. There are so many things that can hap­pen along the way out of our con­trol. Connections you can’t pre­dict. Experiences you can’t even imagine.

I turn 30 in seven months, and I don’t know where I’ll be, in life, love, or home.

The Turning 30 Series

http://www.ibrokeup.net is a fan­tas­tic exam­ple of how to use the Wu Wei theme.

1 year, 10 months ago

Not sure how much I’d pay for a mas­sage right now, but I’d def­i­nitely be will­ing to take out a loan. #sore

1 year, 10 months ago