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And that’s why I spend so much time with people now, why it’s a little easier to bend each pitch, and why I don’t mind hazy night drives through purple sky and deer warnings as long as Mogwai is on. Everything I do is an attempt to be whole again, cause I still think of you with me at every dinner, movie, episode, nap, ride, gathering, and concert.
But surely you can’t be the same person I see in these photos taken so long ago. You’d be a little wiser from the years, a little stronger from the experiences, almost certainly sporting a new haircut, but I bet your heart would always be the same. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to let go. I realized that no matter what happens, regardless of how people grow and change, I’d always love that heart. That’s the only reason I understand what you meant by always have a weakness.
I filled the void you left with the rest of my life, but it’s still hard to be whole without you.
He’s a great guy who looks particularly nice in a skinny tie. His deep, smokey eyes seem to slay every woman he meets, and even the ones he hasn’t yet. There’s a strapping masculinity that you like, carried in the angles of his face, but a gentle smile reveals his true personality.
He’s intelligent enough to challenge that mind of yours, but so down-to-earth that you’d never feel inadequate. He’s constantly creative and a musical genius, and I know you’d appreciate his work as much as he’d appreciate yours, even if they’re in different mediums. He can let loose and have a great time, but he’s responsible enough to know when to stop. He’s confident, but modest. Funny without being crude or clownish. Thoughtful and kind. Generous with his time, his thoughts, his possessions, and his life. He’s the total package, but most important of all, I know he’d make you happy.
And while I’ve always been unbearably jealous when I think of you with anyone else (and maybe I chose him cause I like to think he reminds me of myself), he’s the only guy I wouldn’t mind you being with if it can’t be me, cause it would be such a waste otherwise.
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I have a feeling this day will be the new dividing line in my life, something that was previously pre and post-kiss, and now also a separation between who I reached out to and who I didn’t call. And, oddly enough, this song will forever remind me of what happened, some Canadian indie-rock hit from ’94 I had on repeat the whole day.
Things are going to be different now, even though nothing’s changed. I just wish I knew what that meant.
(I was going through some old e-mails when I found this missed connection post I wrote years ago. Aside from getting in touch with the person I was writing to, one person replied, “I am not her… but I read this page hoping that one day someone would post something this nice about me after a random smile exchanged on a street corner. Well Done.” Don’t we all.)
I was walking north on O’Connor around 5pm yesterday, lost in a thought, when I turned the corner and saw you looking at me.
You gave me an uninhibited smile, the likes of which seemed to convey a strange familiarity. Like we had seen each other at an office party but were never formally introduced, so we knew of each other’s existence but were too shy to be the first one to say anything, and relegated our communication to giving each other quick glances when passing each other in the hall.
It made me think of this line that Emilio Estevez says in St. Elmo’s Fire:
There are several quintessential moments in a man’s life: losing his virginity, getting married, becoming a father, and having the right girl smile at you.
Okay, so maybe Joel Schumacher got the entire concept of St. Elmo’s fire wrong in the movie, and sure, Andie MacDowell’s role was as challenging as putting butter on bread, but she was perfect for it. She had a fresh face with the right amount of charm and mystery to be the love interest of the guy who played the popular jock in The Breakfast Club, and for a moment yesterday, YOUWERETHATGIRL. If that makes me the crazy, obsessed waiter-cum-law student then so be it. At least I wasn’t the wild frat boy with a bastard son who couldn’t hold his life together that Rob Lowe won the Razzie for, right?
You were the girl who defined one of those four quintessential moments, and it came at the right time, as I had just spent so much time cursing Ottawa for having such inconsiderate drivers and inaccessible downtown parking. I was the guy you smiled at who probably lives a little too vicariously through 80s coming-of-age movies cause I was never cool enough to have any “real” problems, and your smile stopped me in my tracks. By the time I gained the clarity to turn around, all I could see was you walking away, in a long black coat, black hat, with red hair.
All I need now is to lose my virginity, get married, and become a father. Maybe you could help me with those too.
Context. It’s 19°C in the house. I keep an electric heating pad under my hoodie, the guitar is slung around my body, and my headphones are connected to the computer. I’m wrapped in chords, with a winter scene perpetually outside my window.
I know this won’t last forever, so I’m indulging in these little rituals. Trying to enjoy all the little things I started taking for granted, like car rides at night when the roads are clear and the car is warm. I’ve lost myself in the shuffle. I know I need to recentre myself, but I’m waiting for things to settle down first.
There’s so much I don’t say to my friends. Not because I don’t trust them, but because my news never feels important enough to bring up. It’s stuff they stopped talking about years ago, cause they’ve moved on from this part of their lives. Well I’m still here, hoping everything’s going to work out in the end.
Martial Coup: Put X 1/1 white Soldier creature tokens onto the battlefield. If X is 5 or more, destroy all other creatures, and win a box, a booster, a pack of nice lands.
I realized that I don’t spend that much time with my core group anymore, but I do hang out with a revolving group of friends. It seems like there’s always another person to catch up with, another meal to share, another night of gaming with the guys. It’s keeping me occupied, for which I’m thankful lately.
Otherwise, I’ve been thinking a little bit about the past and a lot about the future. Trying to picture where I’m going to end up, but it’s never something I can figure out.
I’ve been deconstructing songs, trying to figure out what magical combination of pitches and timbres and rhythms can create such an intense response in my body. Every song is a puzzle when you try to fit the composition into what a person can do without studio editing or a band.
On my quest to unlock such a puzzle, I discovered Final Fantasy performing a Bloc Party cover of This Modern Love, what is now my favourite song of all time1, having dethroned Blonde Redhead’s Elephant Woman of the honour it held for many years. It strips me bare by layers and layers, and even though the lyrics found relevance in my life before I decided that distance would keep me sane, it’s only in recent months that it’s gone from being a song I never skip to a song I always play.
To be able to see how Owen Pallett reproduces it with only a violin, a loop pedal, and his characteristically frail voice is a particular treat. Not only because he can draw the same intensity in me as in the original version, but because you can see how it’s done; what part he keeps to present the listener with the essence of the song, what he’s changed to fit the tools he uses, and even where he takes his breaths. It’s like finding an elegant solution for a puzzle that has perplexed you for years.
But I’ve yet to sit down and attempt any serious covers of my own cause I’m still waiting for my musical knowledge and guitar ability to catch up with what I want to accomplish. I’ve been learning classical pieces for a better foundation, and in that pursuit I came across this particular version of La Catedral.
I enjoy classical music (though I’m really picky) cause it can evoke a specific emotion in me, but most pieces cater to only one emotion at a time, or there’s a lot of development before the part I really like. La Catedral, on the other hand, has it all, from sorrow to elation, and every bit of it is bliss. I’m convinced that this is how the old Paraguayan guitarists rocked out with their cocks out, and it amazes me how someone could write such heavy emotion when there were no metal idols, no amp distortion, no screaming back then.
I’d say that for anyone to fully understand me, they’d have to understand this song too. It represents everything I love about music and emotion and sex, cause it’s all in this song, and only Denis Azabagić plays it the way it was meant to be played2. When watching this for the first time, I remember thinking that I would make love to this man, this man who looks like some guy’s uncle, because he plays like he’s touching every nerve of my heart.
I love the way he moves with his guitar, the way he cradles the body, the way he purses his lips or widens his eyes with every swelling of passion. To be able to play like him is is exactly why I started taking up guitar; I want to feel as good as those who lose themselves to the music, and learning this piece has become another thing I hope to do before I die.
As a person who listens to almost any genre but is still obsessively selective with music, saying that I have a single favourite song is a big deal. [↑]
I never liked this song until I heard him perform it, the last 45 seconds in particular, with his orgasmic finish. Every other classical guitarist uses pauses that break up the flow of what are supposed to be relentless sixteenth notes, to the point where it feels like the entire song is ruined. [↑]
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I feel so disconnected from the world lately. It’s not like I don’t have friends who care so much that they make me feel unworthy of the attention. I just don’t relate to anyone around me. People with their lives on rails when I feel as uncertain as ever. It’s like I haven’t joined their world yet, this world of stability and regularity, where everything just falls into place.
Do pixie cuts ever make up for smoker’s hands?
I watch the movies that used to stir the depths of my emotions, listen to the songs that would grab my heart and clench to the beat in hopes that I’ll feel something more than this. Every night, every snowfall, every photograph is telling me that something needs to change, and I’m left trying to figure out what or when or how it’s going to happen.
My vice-of-the-moment is instant decaf coffee with loads of sugar and French vanilla non-dairy creamer; a chemical sludge I have every morning like dessert for breakfast. That and long showers (and maybe a bit of the sauce every now and then) are the only things I indulge in nowadays.
It’s a sign that instinct has taken me over. I do what I want, and I’m starting to suspect that you’re an adult when that also happens to be the right thing. Not when you hit an arbitrary age, or have kids, or a career, or a house. It’s when you start to take control because part of growing up is understanding that you’re responsible for the results in your life. When you discover that there’s no room in this place for old-school romantics, so you’ve gotta play the game. When you lose your innocence after accepting that the world isn’t the way you thought it was or the way you wanted it to be.
Still, it’s unsettling to be venturing ahead amidst such uncertainty. I’ve learned that you can’t wait for everything to be perfect in your life before taking a risk, or you’ll be waiting forever. There will always be cycles of stagnancy and change, calm and storm, hurting and healing. I don’t mind the changes, but part of me resents the innocence lost. Quixotism has always been a part of me, something that’s defined so many of my thoughts and passions and work. It’s like I’ve lost a part of myself — and a part I’ve always liked — to messages unreturned and the days in between.
I know you can’t save me from what’s about to happen, but I’m tired of being strong for myself. Tired of not having you in my life. Tired of trying to not think about you. And as terrifying as the future is now, you know I’m not a hypocrite, and I know it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.
Sometimes I take the bus, walk our paths, sit in our old haunts. Hoping to catch you at a distance, so I can see how you’re wearing your hair and know you’re okay. Strangers on a train, hoping in my head that you’d sit and talk to me so we can laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all.
Sometimes I find these pictures of you I don’t remember taking, in glasses I don’t remember you ever wearing, in places I don’t recognize. A strange gap in my mind in an otherwise vivid set of experiences, and I wonder if on that day our bodies ever touched.
And while I’m sure some would blame these thoughts on the season or the breakup, the simple truth is I never realized how alone I was until the phone rang today, and I haven’t taken a breath since.
I was very excited to be working with Liz again when approached me to shoot a promo video for her photography business. Since she does engagements, weddings, and pet portraits, we decided to film all three types of sessions.
Liz lists some of her favourite things as her hubby, her pups1, her shoes, and her Apple products, so I included little bits of each to give it a personal touch. I also kept the grading crisp and clean with colours that pop out of the screen to match Liz’s style of vibrant photography, of which I’m a huge fan. My main goal, however, was show how fun it is to be one of her subjects because she has a perpetual smile and bubbly personality that puts anyone at ease.
She’s Ottawa’s own dog-whisperer, and it may be safe to say that she loves dogs as much as I love cats, perhaps even a little more. [↑]
I can’t figure out why I’m so moody lately. Maybe it’s been too long since I smelled the wood of my guitar. Maybe it’s the fresh Autumn colours that tend to magnify my emotions. Maybe I’m feeling overworked, overstimulated, and too rarely understood. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had a moment to myself in what feels like weeks, with so many feelings of loneliness amongst so many people.
I always think of exile in times like this, and in particular, a stanza from Yevgeniy Onegin:
From all that to the heart is dear
then did I tear my heart away;
to everyone a stranger, tied by nothing,
I thought; liberty and peace
would serve instead of happiness.
Luckily, I’ve been reading The Poisonwood Bible, which reminds me that the only problems I have are first-world problems, and that I’m rich in ways many will never be.
I find it amazing, the immensity of it, how any single person can be responsible for a tome of such rich storytelling, observation, and wit. It’s the only book I’ve picked up in years, and I only started reading to get into her head as much as possible (and piqued by my curiosity on how she could describe a story of the Belgian Congo as sexy). Unsurprisingly, her favourite character is the strong, faithful, warrior daughter. Mine is like me too; the dark, brooding, intellectual child, dizygotic twin to hers. It makes me wonder if liking one character over all others is too often an exercise in vanity.
In the end, Onegin realizes he was wrong about exile, that he couldn’t fill himself with emptiness to replace the sadness, something he only figures out when he finds someone worth loving. That’s what’s pulling me back too, keeping me grounded amongst those dark moments of untempered emotion. I carry the image of her smile with me, the only thing as distinguished on her face as her Spanish eyes, and the reason I call her Cheeks from the way the flesh pulls up to round her face. I’ve studied this smile for so long that I can see it every time I close my eyes, and with that, I carry a strength of my own too.
Kitties are impossible to resist when you see them in every other viral video doing something hilarious or clever or just plain cute, and my plan to wait until life settled down a bit before adopting another one was as difficult as the intentions were noble.
I’ve had Byron for about a month now, and he’s already been a great companion. He hasn’t warmed up to sleeping with me at night, but he frequently sleeps in my lap, and follows me around the house, even going so far as to lie on the bathmat to watch me whenever I’m making a nice BM. He also rarely stops moving, which makes him especially difficult to photograph. Like Dolly, he can be quite a vocal cat, and will meow repeatedly when he knows he’s about to be fed or if I call his name.
I can tell he’s already grown in the short time I’ve had him. It’s always fun to see how all the parts of kitties develop at different rates; right now he has big ears and a full tail, though his big mitts are more likely due to his breed. His face is also quite mature, though it isn’t particularly striking or unique.
Wu Wei, my free WordPress theme, is currently the 5th most popular theme on WordPress.com, with over 550,000 blogs using it at the moment (not including ones being self-hosted), and it’s become so successful that the administrators have made it one of the default themes for new sign-ups. By far the most common support question I get is why the WordPress.com version isn’t available for WordPress.org users (some have even offered to pay for an update), so I’m very pleased to announce the release of version 2 for self-hosted blogs.
The theme has been updated to take advantage of new features that came with WordPress 3.x, such as custom header and custom background APIs, custom menu management, as well as various under-the-hood fixes and improvements. Tags and comments have also been included on the front page, to bring better standardization across WordPress.com and WordPress.org versions.
People have asked me why I don’t charge for such a theme, seeing as how I’ve poured a tremendous amount of time and energy into something used by so many people. I can only say that Wu Wei has brought me much luck since its release, and thanks to it’s popularity, I’ve met many great people1, received new design work, and even had a chance to visit Britain — things I don’t think would have been possible if Wu Wei was a paid theme.
There was even a case of an old ex-girlfriend finding me when she decided use Wu Wei before she discovered who made it. [↑]
