I'm tired of being angry.
I know it's not your fault. These things happen. It could happen to anyone. I'm still mad at you though. Perhaps it's not the actual event. It's the way you're handling it. Your reaction is out of my control. You're not mine anymore. Maybe you never were. I'm tired of being angry. A friend of mine in Toronto shared this slow jam from his friend, Vivek Shraya. It's the perfect end to a long day.
My friend is trapped in a love triangle. Luckily she knows how to get out of it.
We talked today about all of the rich adventures in each of our lives. In her case, she is in love with a man who isn't ready to return that love to her. In the other corner of her love life is a different man who is crazy in love with her. However, she doesn't feel fire for him. Sometimes love can get overwhelming. Especially when you're torn between two loves. Mind you, when neither situation is really working out, the answers become increasingly clear. For my dear friend, it won't do any good to settle for either of these lovely men. They are both gems, that much is true, but timing and chemistry are not lining up. I know that in her heart she holds all the answers she needs. She inspires me to remain strong and trust my instincts. Thanks for catching my eye on the sidewalk today.
Not everyone can unabashedly hold that gaze. Thanks for singing that love song today. When your eyes close and your mouth opens like that you're embodying freedom. Thanks for calling and leaving that message today. Your love over the years has been like no other. We don't have to talk everyday to know. Thanks for listening to me read those stories today. It tickles me to see your delight at each twist and turn. Sharing that laughter makes my day. I look into your eyes and the answer is illuminated. I open up your hands and the stories tumble out. You look into my heart and the quiet calm surrounds you. You open up my mouth and the words spill out, a waterfall of truth.
I love you. I love every cell. I love every organ. I love every compartment in my human machine.
Before my head eases onto my pillow, I have to express how grateful I am to have so many talented people working with me. People that I love, people that inspire me, people that support me and guide me. I live a rich life. Thank you.
You've set a date.
A date for dinner. A date for marriage. Spring after winter. You've picked a name. A name of virtue. A name of stones. They'll never hurt you. A week and a half ago, I wrote about someone I knew in Scotland a long time ago. I had feelings for him back then, when we were young and wild things. While I was producing my film Crosstown, I thought a lot about my time in Edinburgh. The film addresses loneliness and that was something I struggled with a lot on the other side of the world. It got me thinking about a lot of things, including that young gentleman.
Well, if you're wondering what happened to that fine Scotsman, I have an answer. I reconnected with our lovely mutual friend and she informed me that he's living in a beautiful place, he's working in a great field, and he's engaged. Engaged. Mystery solved! No more what ifs. I'm glad that I enquired. I think it's important to keep asking questions all the time. I don't want to go through like wondering, hypothesizing, or fantasizing. If you want answers, ask the questions. All the best to you, mister. Thank you for popping up in my mind recently and thank you for your kindness so long ago. Bodies are complex machines.
When you're living in a man-body, it's nice to get advice from other men on certain issues. Two of my close male friends helped calm my mind today when I had some questions about my body. Thanks men! There are times when I don't want to write anything. I said I would write about love for a hundred days. Why? Why is it so important to me? Some nights I sit at my computer and think, who's stupid idea was this? I'm not in love at the moment, I don't have anything profound to say, I don't want to be rambling on about sunshine and rainbows and drive my friends crazy.
Yet I'm still doing it. Even if some of my ramblings are short, I'm still sticking to this project. I think the angry side of love comes out in me in these moments. The jealous side. Why am I single? Why is everyone else married? Well, why not? I haven't been going around proposing to anyone lately. Ever. Perhaps that will be the next instalment: I'll spend a hundred days proposing to a hundred people. Or not. When I get jealous I get sad. I have a little pity party for myself. I think about how the whole world must want to shut me out. It only last for a moment. But it's a party that wants to be thrown occasionally. A party with a guest list of one. One big moping sourpuss. It was turkey time today. My parents made a delicious feast. I got my first hug from my nephew before he went to bed. Successful Thanksgiving.
Love is that phone call before bed.
Saying goodnight. Goodnight moon.
This week has been filled to the brim with meetings. Meetings with editors, composers, co-producers, writing consultants, casting directors, scene partners, musical partners and stylists. Shit's getting done, son!
Amidst all the work is a feeling of saturation; I'm tempted to feel done in. Then I remember two things: 1. I'm working with talented people that I love. 2. We're creating art. It's not brain surgery. It can be fun. (Perhaps brain surgery can be fun too but the stakes are a whole lot higher.) Sometimes I have to remind myself to lighten up. Lighten up! Thank you for the postcard. I think that sculpture of the little king looks like you. He's got your eyes. I'm touched that you thought to send me something from all the way over there. It was unexpected. Then again, you never were one to be predictable.
When we were together, I was always surprised at how you would respond to me. Your comments always caught me off guard. They were often harsh. I got in the habit of saying things with the intent to impress you. Trying to be as witty as I thought you were. Caring about your opinion more than mine. It took a lot of energy. I don't think it made me very attractive. I kept coming back to you. I said I needed more but I kept coming back to you. You were a challenge. Underneath your harshness was a secret world of affection. A secret that few people saw. An intimacy so sweet and loving. I thought that if I held on tight enough I would bring you out of your shell. But it wasn't my job to change you. You didn't need changing. Thank you for being you. It took years to be able to accept you the way you are. It helped that you moved away. It helped that I gave up on pretending you could be someone you're not. Pretending that I could. Pretending it would work. I once told you that I cherished the distance between us and I couldn't speak to you anymore. That was a dick move. I can be harsh too. I'm happy that we still talk, even if it's once or twice a year. I'm happy that there's no tension, no wanting, and no trying. Thank you for the postcard. Tonight I had a visit from a friend I've known for eleven years. For the last few of those, she's struggled with chronic pain and illness. It's manifested in waves; she's had good times and bad times. The last three months have been on the bad side.
I saw her last week at one of her roughest moments. And then, so much changed. I've always known that she's able to get through anything. Little by little, she takes steps to get there. I knew she would start getting better, but I had no idea it would be so quick. When she showed up at my place tonight, I was amazed. She was full of zest. She shared the steps she had taken this week and all of the wonderful effects those steps had on her body and mind. I'm so proud of her. And inspired. Rain is trickling down my face.
Falling off my chin. This new knowledge is soaking in like the liquid in my pores. Fluid as we are, I know we're solid. You and I. Twelve years ago I met a man. He was charming and kind. He was quiet and thoughtful.
Sometimes I think of him. We were living in Edinburgh at the time. I remember one night at a party, I had consumed my fair share of intoxicants (not to mention a full portion of haggis). I was feeling overwhelmed. After everyone else had left the party, the charming gentleman stayed with me to make sure I was all right. We talked all night. At the time, my naïve mind didn't fully comprehend the situation. I knew I had some sort of feelings for him. I couldn't conceive that he shared those feelings. I just listened to his soft, Scottish voice and fell fast asleep. We saw each other a few times after that. As the months passed, I wound up with a heavy case of depression and found myself distancing myself from my social network. Through my muddled mental state, he was one person I always felt safe around. A gentle soul. Years later, I learned from a mutual friend that he had had a crush on me back then. I was shocked. Back in Scotland, I took the train to Glasgow to visit him. However, he now had a girlfriend. The three of us met up for drinks and had a nice enough time. Since he was in a relationship, I figured there was no point thinking about him anymore. I came home to Vancouver and that was that. Now, over a decade later, I find myself wondering what he's up to. Love is a merry-go-round.
Love is a muffin top. Love is the warm impression left on the sheets. Love is a voice through the phone at an intersection between the past and the present. Love is a hot cup of tea sliding through a relaxed body on a plush sofa in a warm house in the quiet wilderness. Love is in your cells. Love is in your muscles. Love is in your nightmares. Love is in your pumpkin pancakes and my banana chia cookies. Love is in between the question mark and my breath on the other end of the line. Love is porous. Love is fluid. Love is endless if you're willing to send the bucket down the well.
Grandmothers.
They really know what they're doing with the love. I saw mine today. She remembers so much. She is so strong. She is part of me. sparkle in the water
silence in the sky magic in the fingertips twinkle in his eye With moments of rest, creativity is able to flow back to us like air into the lungs. I'm recharging my battery and creating space. I'm making room for more connection and room for more love.
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