Katie Nugent Photography

A New Year happened did you know?

2012-02-08T17:04:00.000-08:00

I forgot to breathe during 2011. And I really like breathing, it's kind of my thing. Becoming a mom really truly took my breath away, in amazing and life-changing ways. I did what every mother told me not to do- I tried to be, and have, and do everything. And everything left me with nothing. No time, no room to be, no space to grow.

So for 2012, I've made space for all those important things I have love for and am learning to drop the things I don't need. Space is a most precious thing and 2012 has very much been about creating pockets of it. And with space comes room for all those things I love to move in. Including some most exciting projects and shoots coming up soon.

But for now here's some of the best space I found in January.

Something Pretty

2011-12-06T09:58:00.000-08:00

It's happening. The sneak peeks from our first ever "Something Pretty Event" are ready to launch, and I'm so inspired by all the ladies who joined us.

First I want to thank the girls who contributed their amazing talents, ideas and hands to make this event far brighter & sparkly than I could have imagined. Without Lindsay Rota, Ashley Nitti & Jenna Buchanan the night would not have been such a positive and vibrant evening. You ladies are A-M-A-Z-I-N-G and I can't thank you enough for everything you did.

And now to the ladies who attended, thank you for inspiring all of us, and for making the evening a successful & lively event.

Enjoy the sneak peeks- y'all made it so easy to create beautiful images.

x

Keij/Del Vento

2011-11-30T15:01:00.000-08:00

Here's the story: Girl moves to Buenos Aires to learn spanish (or maybe just to go for an adventure?!) Girl is given a contact from a friend. Girl initiates contact with Boy (a native to Buenos Aires). Boy then looks Girl up on facebook. Boy decides to meet with Girl. Girl & Boy fall madly in love and a few years later decide to throw an intimate ceremony/reception in Vancouver, and then another bigger, more splashy affair down in Uruguay in January. Sigh- romance is still very much alive.

PS- Girl is one of my most fabulous friends who asked me to take the photos of their amazingly intimate evening, so glad to be a part of your day, Mrs & Mr. Del Vento. Enjoy.

Morgan & Agustin had a limo drive them through Vancouver, BC, prior to arriving at the Teahouse in Stanley Park, where the ceremony & reception took place.

Agustin's brother & sister-in-law came from New York to take part in the wedding

isn't rain on your wedding day an auspicious sign?

the ceremony

Toasts & Speeches

The Sundmyhrs grow up

2011-11-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

remember this little guy? I still heart him, maybe even more than before. Especially when he zigzagged the path along the creek, amazed by every leaf he found. Yep- definitely loving the whole family even more after this portrait session.

Something Pretty

2011-10-22T08:28:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't it be nice to spend an evening with a lively bunch of girls, getting pretty, listening to funky tunes, munching on delish bites & posing for the camera? well then sign on for an evening of
Something Pretty.

Katie Nugent Photography & Ashley Nitti are bringing you a delightfully laid-back and ladies-only evening of beauty and photo shoots to remind you just how pretty you are.

Whether you're looking for a christmas gift for your significant other, or just want to capture your amazing self for your private viewing, THIS IS THE NIGHT to get gorgeous.

All ladies aged 19+ are invited to join us, November 26th starting at 3pm.

Get a group of your girls together & make a night of it.

Contact us at 250.448.1156 to purchase your tickets & book your appointments.

Visit our event page HERE for all the details.

Hope to see you then.

Elodie & Auntie Maggie

2011-08-24T13:40:00.000-07:00

My sister often babysits Elodie but recent developments mean she's leaving for Vancouver, and Elodie isn't very happy about it. She insisted I take photos of her trying to convince her auntie to stay put in Kelowna and come play with her every week. Did she convince her? Jury has yet to decide.

Orian & Josh get Hitched {sneak peek)

2011-08-16T18:22:00.000-07:00

When I asked Orian what the plan was if it rained, she shrugged her shoulders and said "there's no plan, I'm planning on having sun." And lo and behold there was sun. This was a true Okanagan wedding. Lake. Sunshine. Eldorado boardwalk. Congrats you two! Stay tuned to facebook for more sneak peeks.

Meet Jess & Bryson

2011-07-15T11:09:00.001-07:00

What an amazing way to start off the summer, shooting the wedding of my old friends Jess and Bryson. Jessica and I became friends in ninth grade when we discovered we each had the exact same class schedule. Jessica is quite possibly one of the most radiant and kind people I know, with so much heart to share with the world. So it came as no surprise that she found her match in Bryson, the charismatic and sincere South African boy she met many many years ago.

I was so honoured to be part of their celebration and to capture the images of their wedding day, held on Hornby BC, a small island located between vancouver island and the coast of BC. Hornby was where Jessica grew up spending summers, and where these two lovelies eventually got engaged.

The wedding was a laid-back, family affair that was just as gorgeous and effervescent as these two!

Orian and Josh

2011-06-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

Meet Josh and Orian, a no-fuss, honest and dynamic couple, who, amidst planning a wedding, working full-time and caring for Josh's two kids, are also in the middle of an enormous renovation to their home. Their lives are full and vibrant, much like the couple themselves.

There is an ease to their relationship, a deep respect for each other, and a connection that was endearing and true. I can't wait to shoot their wedding in August. Here's a snippet of their mini-engagement shoot.

The story of Elodie Grace

2011-05-16T13:33:00.000-07:00

It means lotus flower.

Elodie.

The lotus flower grows from the dregs of a marsh, pushing up through the junk and eventually blossoms above the surface, and floats there above the crud. A little reminder of perseverance. Patience. Faith.

She was born December 9th, 2010 at about 1:30 in the morning. We found out about her on December 10th at 11 am. Chad got the call first. A baby girl. Healthy. Birth mom wants to proceed with placing her. She's chosen you. Chosen You.

Chosen us. I think sometimes I'm a little shell-shocked that someone would choose us. Mostly because when you know all there is to know about yourself, you wonder what makes you special in the eyes of someone else. What makes you worthy of something so gigantic. Us. Chosen Us.

By three that afternoon we were walking into her hospital room, carrying an empty car seat. And full hearts, pounding hearts. Surprisingly calm minds.

I'd never been able to picture meeting a birth mom. And unfortunately this wasn't the first time we'd met with a birth mother. There was another time. One that ended in tears and aches that seemed to go on and on. Ended with walking away empty handed and empty hearted, and so empty there was no way we would ever fill up again. Guilt that still pricks the edges of my chest when I think about it.

Except. There we were. 4 weeks later. An empty car seat. A new birth mom. A new baby girl. And she was healthy. So so healthy. And beautiful. Breathtakingly gorgeous.

I'm going to call her birth mom Grace. This is the middle name they share. A fitting name, because she is a young woman full of grace and love. So filled up with it.

I thought I'd have something really poignant to say. But I think I just said Hi. And then thank you thank you. I don't know what to say. Just thank you. There are not enough thank-yous in the english language to account for the gratitude I felt.
We felt.

and then hours passed. We talked and there were tears and there were hopes and wishes revealed. And more crying and hugs and staring. And quiet. Lots of quiet. But not that weird quiet you rush to fill. This was that quiet that comes from the very depths of you. That can be quiet and respect the moment and just sit there. Light and easy.

Then it was time to say good-bye. Our Grace. It was an aching moment to know we were gaining at the expense of someone else's immense loss. And her sorrow was immense. Still is immense.

We email often. At first mostly every day. Then slowly every other day. Now on a weekly basis. With each message, we connect even more. Grace and us. Us and grace. She is our family in a way. She is part of Elodie's story. And will always be part of that story. So when people ask why we chose to have an open adoption, Why on earth we chose that route- we say because it's part of who our child is. And it isn't our place to decide for her what type of relationship she wants with her birth mother. She is part of her story and we can only maintain an open connection until Elodie is old enough to decide. It isn't our story to change, or adjust. It's her story. Some people get it, and others don't. It's a hard thing to get I guess.

And maybe if there wasn't an honest respect that went along with our relationship, we might have chosen differently. Because we all want what's best for our Elodie. For now she has a wider net of people who adore her, who want what's best for her. And that is all that matters.

There's more to the story. But for now this will do.

Miss Rosie

2011-04-13T08:30:00.000-07:00

This is little Rosie

She's about the sweetest babe I've met, all giggles and smiles and outbursts of joy

but what makes her even lovelier is her Wendy.

Wendy is about the kindest lady I've met, all kisses and cooing and outbursts of kindness.

Wendy is Rosie's foster mom. And Rosie is Wendy's foster baby.

You would never realize they don't really know how long they'll be together. So far it's been 5 months or so. Maybe it will be longer and maybe it will only last a few more moments. Because one day Rosie will most likely move on to another family, her forever family. And neither Wendy nor Rosie seems fazed by this.

I was awed by Wendy's ability to give her heart so fully to the care of Rosie and all her other little ones who have come through their doors. To be able to love kids you know will move forward, to provide them with love and warmth and a healthy place to stay, all while knowing they will move on, it's a special kind of person who can give of themselves, to surrender the rest. And I think we're lucky to live in a world with people like that.

Meet Cove Lockhart

2011-01-11T19:23:00.000-08:00

This little pea finally emerged from his pod mid-november and immediately went about setting little baby girls hearts a flutter. Cove was a real gentleman on this shoot, with barely a whimper when we made him lie in the buff and pulled him into all kinds of new positions he'd never been in. He even managed a few little smiles.

Sundmyhr

2010-11-30T13:50:00.000-08:00

These are the Sundmyhrs. Fredrik, Leslie and Cameron. I love them like disco queens love glitter, which means I love them so much it trails behind me as I go.

Poor little Cameron toughed through his teething and performed like an old pro, putting any model who complains about cramping legs, to shame.

After months (no seriously months) of having to reschedule because of everything that could possibly come up between two parties (like impromptu vacations, broken cameras, teething babies...) we finally settled on an early november day, right before the snow came. The sun came out and the snow stayed away and this is some of what we captured:

All photos by Katie Nugent photography

we're back

2010-10-22T16:19:00.000-07:00

Why is it that in real life a week will blaze by without you even knowing it, but in vacation life it feels like the week is stretched into infinity?

Yes there were moments when I wondered why putting on a wet, cold, wetsuit could be somehow better than sipping warm coffee on the beach, and there were a few rainy parts I closed my eyes to, and then there was the morning I busted a flock of crows ransacking the contents of our two coolers, hardtop and soft, but oh my, it was a lovely vacation.

A lovely week of nowhere to go and nothing to do, but light fires, and surf and drink coffee and let our brains have a time out. My brain likes a good time out every now and then.

I have photos but they're being processed, and I don't have that many. Instead I'll leave you with this photo... another roadtrip maybe?

via vogue italia

Bout time...

2010-10-07T18:34:00.000-07:00

Finally. Finally. FINALLY! We're going away tomorrow for our anniversary, and we're not coming home for a whole week! I just thought you should know I feel I've been crawling through mud to get to this day. Or rather, that day. Tomorrow. The day, of departure.

We aren't going far. Just hoping on one of these: (ok more like a ferry to get to the island)

via we heart it

And then motoring around til we find a good spot to do this:

via we heart it

And then onwards for lessons in this:

via aquabumps

Because truth be told the last time we did that:

via aquabumps

we were on our honeymoon, five years ago, and we very nearly didn't make it home as husband and wife. What with me accidently locking the keys in the trunk of the car. And then Chad realizing the "hide-a-key" was only useful for the car doors and not the trunk. And then having to wait for three hours for the tow truck to show up, having been stuck in the pumpkin festival traffic. And then the tow truck driver not being able to do anything anyways, but tow us to a car dealership, where they ripped out the back seat and "hallelujah" get the keys. But wait why didn't we use the hide'a'key again? And then there was Chad bossing me around and telling me how to surf "properly". And us fighting over the one "good" surf board we'd borrowed and me 9 times out of 9.5 getting the crappy "gun" aka most impossible surfboard to ride when learning. EVER. Then we got lost in San Francisco and ended up in crack alley, where we pretended not to watch some guy jimmy rig a 4x4 and some other guy crawling through the gutter looking for something suspicious and me holding onto Chad's hand so tight I was certain his fingers would come out looking wilted.

It really was romantic.

I do hope we can recreate a little of the romance. It has been five years.

Jeffie+ Mike

2010-10-04T19:39:00.000-07:00

A month or so ago I got an email that went something like this:

"Hi Katie. I'm in a pre-natal yoga class with Karalyn and she said you did her belly photos. I was wondering if you'd do mine. Oh by the way, the baby might be coming next tuesday, as in five days from now. Ummm is that a possibility?

I was a bit fearful I might have to use the baby delivering skills I've acquired from TV Doctor Dramas, but baby girl remained where she was meant to stay, and the photo session was oh so much fun.

Mike and Jeffie were a photographer's dream. They were laid-back, natural and very much in love. Awwww. I can't wait to take photos of baby girl when she is all pink and cuddly. Until then, here are some of the photos from the session:

remembering

2010-09-17T13:25:00.000-07:00

While lying in bed last night, trying desperately to stay focused on the heavy yoga philosophy I had chosen as my bedtime reading, I became vaguely aware of the obnoxious noise my laundry was making while having a bath in the washer. And then without realizing it, I was transported to a time, many years ago, when I lived in Australia and was having a practical day of cleaning and laundry.

(this by the way really didn't happen very much while I lived there... due mostly to beer, sunshine and the wearing of my bikini every moment of every day)

first the back story...

I lived in Oz for one year, with a friend who you've seen here (PS that man beside her she picked him up as a souvenir!) We lived in many places over that year, but one of our most loved flats was in a beach community outside Sydney called Manly. At the time this story takes place we were living in a flat with 6 other girls. The apartment had only three bedrooms and one bathroom. As a side note: we are all still in touch and no one, no one, yelled at each other even once. It was a most lovely apartment with a vast array of nationalities.

This is how we often did our laundry, but I couldn't wait

Anyways, on this particular day I believe I was feeling pretty great and was, surprisingly alone in our home. I decided to freshen up the joint and freshen up my wardrobe, which, could only be freshened up by throwing everything away and starting over, but that took money, and money was something I didn't have much of. So I did the next best thing and threw everything in the wash.

I should have just bought one of these

The laundry room was more of a laundry closet, with the washer was on the floor while the dryer was mounted onto the wall. There was little room to maneuver.

La dee da there I was. Throwing my loads from washer to wall mounted dryer. During one of the many routine transferrings of clothes from washer to dryer I noticed a most peculiar sound from the wall behind the dryer. As most would do, my ears perked up and I glanced around to the peculiar noise, bringing my shoulder under the dryer.

Now I feel I should mention here that I am not a very big girl. though at this particular point in time I had been drinking close to year's equivalent of booze and lazying in the sun.. which does not a slender figure make. But still I was by no means a sumo gal.

The next thing I knew a very large, very startling crash came, and the dryer had mysteriously jumped from the wall, bouncing off my shoulder.

But the crazy part is that I caught it! Like in my arms. And then I cradled it. as in to my bosom. It isn't often one finds themselves cradling a large machine, and so one doesn't always possess the muscle memory to accommodate these types of situations.

So true!

But somehow I managed to gracefully sink the beast to the floor and we both came out unscathed. Except once the dryer was on the floor, the closet was full and the door wouldn't open.

If she wasn't on the other side of the world, maybe I could have done this

It was a rather lonely hour until I figured out how to maneuver my way out, at which point I believe I vowed to never do laundry again. But alas, there are only so many ways a girl can wear her coulottes before they need to be changed.

inspired?

2010-09-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

There's this thing about autumn... that makes me feel. at home. in me. You know?

I just think maybe I was made for this time of year. Maybe because I was made. Some time ago, right around this time of year. Right before my parents got married. Scandalous.

Anyways I've already written all about my crush of all things autumn right here, so I won't paraphrase from that post anymore.

maybe I should shut up now?

I will say that regardless of being made for this time of year, and suddenly having many more handfuls of moments to string together, I can't always find the zip to get my daydreams out from behind my eyeballs.

maybe if I had one of these I'd jump to create

And it's kind of urking me. You know?

maybe I should eat more greens?

It's moments like these I wish I had a little cheerleader pep inside I could call upon. You know, a little ra-ra to get the blood flowing the creatives working. Because once I get started I'm happy to be there, but sometimes my soft bed and a good book engulfs me whole, and no matter how I fight I know I won't win.

If this was mine I'd never leave

peas in the pod

2010-08-30T21:49:00.000-07:00

Managing a daycare has made me a little bit smitten with anything associated with babes and tots. Which is why I've been focusing my lens on the little pods that grow the kidlets and I wanted to share this sneak peek with you.

Karalyn & Ozzie

karalyn

trinity

rachelle

the scrounging

2010-08-29T09:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think there are magic treat fairies that visit my cupboards. At least this is what I tell myself when I am shuffling the contents of my cupboards in hopes of finding something yummy to enchant my taste buds.

You see the treat fairies like to send you on a mini scavenger hunt through cupboards and fridge and freezer, they may leave something but usually they don't. It's their own personal joke. First they prick me with the need for something delectable and then begins my searching, my questing, my hoping for something captivating wedged somewhere between the amaranth seeds and quinoa.

But whoa is me, because I stock those cupboards with healthy choices for situations like these when I know temptation will get the best of me. So I usually have to content myself with a scoop of natural peanut butter and suffice to say it's not usually very satisfying. At. All.

I also like to play this scavenger hunt at in my family members cupboards. Mostly because the treat fairies visit them. And I always come up with something grand when I root about. Usually chocolate, especially at my sister's house. She likes to hide food, always has since we were kids. But I've always liked finding her food. Ever since we were kids. I've had lots of practice, know all her secret stash spots. It's very rewarding in her cupboards, so much more rewarding than mine.

I thought it had been a while since I posted any of my own photos, so I did a little photo shoot in my kitchen... hope you like.

is it hot out???

2010-08-17T16:55:00.001-07:00

I know. It's been a while. I'd like to tell you I've been doing all kinds of dog day afternoon kind of things like:

Or even a little:

But the truth is I've been doing this waaaaaaay too much:

And thinking like this waaaaaaay too much: (I'm the popcorn guy)

Serving in a restaurant in the summer in a beachy-kind of town can be trying. Very trying. Often this is about the time when staff start to lose their minds, muttering into their trays and baring their teeth in hopes that it might resemble a smile. We all start wondering why the hell we're doing it and start to consider if we should dump the tray and thumb a ride out of town... later suckers.

But we don't. Instead we fantasize about a big juicy alcoholic drink at the end of the night, and we don't even consider tomorrow's shift.

It's the end of summer friends... I do miss you all and promise to be back with nice words and photos soon.

None of the photos are mine, and I can't remember where they came from, nor do I know where my brain went.

PPS the first song on the mix this week is our theme song at the restaurant I work at... listen to the words carefully:)

hell on wheels

2010-07-08T18:26:00.000-07:00

It was meant to be an average summer's eve bike ride to the beach. Just a couple and their dog minding their own business. Until the By-law officer arrived with his flashing lights and his blue uniform.

I suppose I should preface this story by telling you we do not believe in having our dog on a leash. Ever. This belief has gotten us many a warning from the by-law, so we know all about our friends in blue... and secretly we always joked we'd turn and run just to see what would happen.

Well my friends, that moment came and Chad seized his opportunity to stick it to the man. Yep, as soon as the yellow lights started flashing Chad shouted: "pull a U-ee Kate, pull a U-ee."

I giggled because, haha that was always the joke, but instead I pulled my feet off the pedals and prepared to act innocent and naive. After all by-law officers are like one step above mall cops and I can't imagine running from them. Ever.

But, to my astonishment, I turned to find my husband's bike speeding away, with him at the helm and our dog paces behind. Kaz looked back over his shoulder one final time as if to say: Sorry Kate, I'm sticking with him.

They gave me up people, left me to rot with the Po-po. And all I could do was laugh. Hard. With one of those really ugly laughing faces.

The bylaw guy was like: "Is that your dog?"

And I was like: "yep, and my husband."

BL guy: "He shouldn't be running away."

Me:"Really?" giggle.

BL guy (he puffs out his chest a bit): "I can charge him a $200 fine for fleeing with an at large dog."

Me: "well I stayed. So just give me the dog ticket and we'll call it even."

But no. He did not. Instead he flung himself into his big ol' truck and squealed after my husband. Who was on his bike. As in a ten-speed. Old. Bike. With no. Pedals.

Let me clarify that Chad isn't particularly proficient when it comes to escaping the law. This was his first attempt, and as I may have mentioned before, he is disastrous when it comes to directions or plotting a route to get somewhere. So the dummy decided he'd try to "out run" the guy by zigzagging through the many alleyways surrounding our home. His logic was that he didn't want the guy to know where he lived, even though he would have had time to get into the house before my conversation with the BL officer was over.

Instead they had a high-speed chase through the neighbourhood. The Regional district truck with flashing lights, driving 140 through the alleys, and chad on his bike yelling at his middle-aged dog to run or he's going to jail. Kaz just thought they were playing a wicked game of Chase.

And as in every game of chase, eventually the slower guy gets caught. But Chad wouldn't go down without a fight.

When the BL officer finally roared up to him, Chad looked over his shoulder and yelled:

"What are you doing?"

BL guy, slightly stunned: "ummmm,"

Chad: "I'm just taking my dog for a walk man."

BL guy, a little confused and maybe feeling a bit silly for chasing a guy on a 10-speed: "I could call the RCMP right now,"

Chad: "because I don't have my dog on a leash?"

BL guy: "It's the by-law to have your dog on a leash,"

Chad:"Well, I put my dog on a leash in the park because there's signs, but I don't see any signs on the road saying I need my dog on a leash," he is giggling at this point because he knows he's an ass.

BL guy:"well it's city by-law, and you can get a $200 charge for what you just pulled."

Chad:" for having my dog off leash?"

And the conversation went back and forth with Chad pretending he'd never seen the guy before and the guy trying not to punch my husband in the face.

In the end, we had to pay for a dog license and were given a warning. I think the guy admired Chad's balls for trying to make a run for it. Apparently it happens fairly frequently. And now I know if we're ever in a Bonnie and Clyde crime spree, my man would throw me to the cops and save his own ass.

I always suspected it.

passion vs life

2010-06-24T16:32:00.000-07:00

How many times a day do you think about your life's PASSION? Once maybe? A couple? Never? Or perhaps you are like me and whenever there is a spare moment to fret you wander on over to the passion question.

I think I hate the word Passion. Ummm with a passion. hehehehe. Anyways...

We kind of have a fixation on this little word and its all encompassing powers. Consider the word. Don't you think Passion conjures up some pretty serious imagery... like people talking with their arms flailing about, or maybe a fire that can't be dampened, or even a bit of naked flesh and uncomfortable positions. Yeah I kind of think passion is a bit dangerous sometimes.

via white hot truth: stationery

There's all kinds of new age life coaches and career guides and how-to books on being passionate for anyone looking to find their "thing". And if you're that person still searching, you're constantly reminded how you should be doing what you're passionate about each and every day, without fail. There's an emphasis on the something, the anything, but why isn't there emphasis on the finding, searching, the uncovering that happens in life?

I always get the sense that passion is this thing that hits you in the chest, makes you feel absolutely alive every. single. time. But is it? And if that's the case don't you think it might induce some kind of heart failure?

I think the passion trend is making people feel inadequate if they can't find that one thing they would live and die for. I'm not advocating living a life of drudgery, but maybe seeking and discovering is just as vital to our hearts and heads as finding something to devote ourselves to. Maybe finding contentment in 'right now' is just as important as finding that one 'thing'. Maybe making this moment your life's passion is something to aspire to.

What do you think?

making up for lost posts

2010-06-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

My Dad sent this to me... he likes sending notes to remind all my sisters, mom and I to chill out and enjoy the moments in life that pass us by. This is his way of staying in touch when we can't always see each other. He's a really good Dad that one. I'm a lucky girl, I am.

Hope you enjoy his little reminder....

THE SITUATION

In Washington , DC , at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.

About 4 minutes later
The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At 6 minutes
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

At 10 minutes
A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.

At 45 minutes
The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

After 1 hour
He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.

This is a true story. The violinist was Joshua Bell, noted to be one of the greatest musicians in the world . He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This experiment, organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities,
raised several questions:

In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

If so, do we stop to appreciate it?

Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

I wonder, if we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . .

How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?

Management

2010-06-15T08:41:00.000-07:00

I've been sick for a month my friends. First a dreadful cold and just last week I developed a vertigo-inducing inner ear infection, which had me stumbling about at work, appearing half drunk and half hallucinating and begging people to repeat each and every word they uttered to my drunken/hallucinating/panicky self. And FYI my friends- I don't get sick. I just don't do it. So.

But this isn't a story about my month of sick. It's a story about my boy. The one I've vowed to stay with through sickness and health. (Although I don't actually think we said that but I digress...)

This story starts somewhere between agonizing pain at any sound, vibration, thought, and bouncing off the walls with energy (we're not really there yet but one can hope...) So the boy who stole my heart was lying beside me in my oasis of duvets and pillows he reached over and stroked my face and said: I hate to see you so sick, I'm not used to this fragile little being.

And I thought- well isn't that just about the sweetest thing

Then he added- You're usually the tough one keeping things going. I don't like being in charge. You need to get better.

Did he just say he wants me to get better so I can keep this ship a runnin'? Make sure he has clean underwear? Or was it meant as a compliment... a roundabout way of saying you complete me? Maybe I was hearing wrong?

And then the clincher: You know you're kind of the management, making sure everything runs smoothly. And I'm more the boss, you know sitting back letting you do all the work. I like being the boss, I need my manager back.

via we heart it

Nope I heard that one loud and clear, but feigned a sudden wave of exhaustion, because I was afraid I might blow an ear drum.

I love my husband.

The little quirks

2010-06-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

I have a problem with the letters V and Z. If ever I see the two letters in a word where the Z comes before the V, I get confused on which sound makes Vvvvvvv and which one makes Zzzzzz. Luckily in our language there are not many words with this pattern. However there is a particular name that is outside the video store where we go and it's something like Zveigt or something or other and try as I might to avoid looking at the word when I walk past I get sucked in every time.

It makes me feel inadequate this little brain-wire crossing. A complete fool I tell you. But I appreciate the things that make me a fool, because I sense that being perfect would be terribly boring and the last thing in the world I want to be is boring. So I'll take Z and V confusion as a quirk that adds to my delightfulness, unless you think I should get this issue looked at?????

via honey and jam

the extremes...

2010-06-09T16:17:00.000-07:00

One of my most favourite girl's at the daycare (yes I have favourites please don't think less of me) was happily playing when I suggested it might be time to take a potty break. She thought it would be best if she didn't. I accepted her reply and then told her she could play for five more minutes and then we'd do as big girls do and hop on the throne. So five minuted passed. I told her it was time. She didn't agree. I said it was and now it was most important for us to get this peeing business out of the way as mommy was coming soon and they were heading out for a day of fun doing something or other.

Then the bottom dropped out of poor girl's world. She was heart broken to have to give up her horsey play. HEART. BROKEN. There was a melt down of epic proportions and ended with her a snotty sobbing heap of a little less life and me a heap of guilt and sorrow rubbing her quacking back.

So. We left it at that. Until I tried again fearing her bladder might actually explode all over the carpets. I braced myself for the ramifications but instead she simply toodled over to the potty and took care of business.

It's all so raw and immediate when you're a kid. But it's real for them. These things that we don't think much about as adults. I sometimes wonder who's got it better... kids who react and move on or adults who pass by it and then later mull the occurrence over and over until they pinpoint WHY. Kids don't do that. They don't question why they feel something. They just feel it.

Flight of the Conchords- Business Time

2010-06-03T14:33:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say I found this, but alas it was my sister who introduced me to this hilarious little clip. I hope it brings you a little giggle.

A note on the Oil Disaster...

2010-06-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

IfItWasMyHome.com - Visualizing the BP Oil Disaster

Jelly fish

2010-06-01T08:02:00.000-07:00

You know those moments in chick shows and movies where the quirky protagonist is getting annihilated by some richer, older, WASP-yish type woman, who obviously doesn't really have anything better to do than to make herself feel better by putting lovely girls down? Please tell me you know what I'm talking about?

Anyways such an event recently happened to me. And I have to say I was caught somewhere between shock and delight that I was actually partaking in a classic dual with an older woman I've never liked. And then it just pissed me off the more she nosed her way around my life, sizing me up. Asking nicely about my job, my husband, where I was living in town... all the while inserting a biting comment after I revealed a little more, but doing it all with a kind smile.

via unknown

I've known this woman since I was a kid, and I always thought she was high and mighty, only when you're a kid you don't always know why you don't like someone and you still have to be polite to them. But now that I'm a big girl I thought about what a big girl does in this situation... do they smile back and ask about the not so lovely things she knows about the older woman's life? Or does she simply acknowledge that she doesn't care what this almighty woman says or injects into her life and realizes she's quite fond of the way her life is at the moment?

I chose B. However, I also stopped the woman mid-sentence as she was about to go in for another dig, and I told her I had to move on. Which made me quite content.

Radio silence revival

2010-05-28T10:05:00.000-07:00

Clear! Beep beep... I'm back from a serious flat line on the airwaves. Sorry friends. It's been hectic and crazy and there's been some icky terrible colds and a few head spinning moments, but I think we've moved into a better place.

I blame Mercury for all this agitation. Do you feel it? He's a nasty beast that planet. All unstable and shifty, a real hell raiser.

Do you believe in planets and moons and stars affecting your life? I like to think so. It takes a bit of the pressure off don't you think? I like the idea of invisible strings attaching us to distant worlds and balls of fire and glowing rocks, it makes it all seem less lonely and just a little bit magical.

How's your life? Have you felt the beasts claws digging into your story? Fingers crossed you've held him off, but if you haven't I found this for you... I hope it helps.

via visualize

permission.

2010-05-12T16:39:00.000-07:00

Do you give yourself permission to take a break every now and then... to do something not worth writing on a list of to-dos, not worth marking down in your planner, on your calendar? You know those rare moments of curling up in a quiet place, where you're not multitasking, meeting demands blah blah blah. Or do you need someone to tell you to rest, to play, to shut the hell up about your so and so project or deadline and savour the quiet for god sake.

If you need permission here's your slip:

Take a break.

Eat well.

Sleep well.

Lounge

Be still.

If you need a note let me know, someone sent me one and I'm a fan of passing it on.

confession...

2010-05-11T13:23:00.000-07:00

I am a closet romantic. In real life I pretend to be all tough and tumbles, but really I'm a total fiend for romantic comedies and all things ruffles and pretty. I like the idea of a world with hollywood love and men who hold open doors and driving through Italy on a vespa with a scarf floating behind you. Cheezy? Maybe, but lovely still.

Add to hollywood love a stick figure animation and you've got my attention. I'm a sucker for stick figure animation. It's so whimsical in its simplicity. Whimsy is a little something I like to hit up once in a while. Perhaps that's why I work in a daycare, I'm trying to get the kids to rub off on me.

Limbo

2010-05-07T13:59:00.000-07:00

I have so many friends who are in Limbo right now. Not the fun trying to go as low as you go kind, no. The trying to go anywhere, up down sideways head over heels... and yet feeling perfectly stalled.

Who am I kidding... I'm in limbo too, somedays.

And while I admit limbo is a most uncomfortable state, it's also the perfect time to reflect. Think about where you want to be. Where you've been. Mistakes you've made. Good moves you taken. I know I catch myself feeling defeated when limbo is suddenly everywhere, but a new perspective changes all that. Just a little switch of thinking. A different view. A change of scene.

If Limbo's tripping you up, here's some new views:

All thoughts via we heart it.

bugle boy

2010-05-04T14:25:00.000-07:00

When we were young, there was a brass bugle sitting atop a most precious side table in the "living room". This room was only used during holidays and get-togethers with family and friends. It was the room where the furniture was nice and no sticky fingers were allowed. No screaming children or hide and seek or space shuttle missions or jumping the steps three at a time. Absolutely no farting noises, please. {I know this because these were some of the things I was scolded for doing in this room} My mom often hid here and ignored our cries when we were certain her silence meant she'd been abducted by aliens. Anyways back to the bugle...

The bugle was a fascination of mine. I couldn't understand why we had a perfectly good horn and yet no one played it. So I tried. Taking my chances on whether or not this was allowed {I was assuming it wasn't but lived by the beg forgiveness motto} I brought the bugle to my lips assuming a most beautiful sound would pierce the air, but nothing happened. My face turned red, my cheeks ached and not a peep.

And then my dad swooped in... I was certain I was destined for a spanking {my mother is currently thinking "we never spanked you kids,"} but instead he lifted the bugle to his face and sounded the alarm. A most awful alarming sound that shook the very essence of my soul erupted through the airwaves ... in a very bad way.

It was hideous sounding, perhaps because he really didn't know how to play only had better lung capacity than I. And so for the remainder of my time in that house, the bugle was used to "summon" us when we refused to get out of bed, come for dinner or spent too long on the phone. This became a particularly painful event during our teenage to early adulthood years when a hang over was certainly the cause of the slow moving selves.

Today I stumbled across a photo of an EXACT. REPLICA. OF. THE. BUGLE.

I am still recovering.

vacation before the storm

2010-04-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

I could use a vacation. Just a quick little break here:

via we heart it

Or here:

via we heart it

Sleeping here at night:

via we heart it

Doing this all day:

via we heart it

With a quick stop here:

via we heart it

Would you like to come along?

I promise to do better next week. I'm working on something very fun for you. I promise.

dazed and drooling...

2010-04-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to grasp where we are in the week, this week. I'm discombobulated it seems. Yesterday I thought it was monday and then today I've been walking around thinking we're on thursday and I can only imagine what tomorrow will feel like... maybe a leap year day?

Do you ever get a little out of sorts for no particular reason? I think it was because we (being me and husband) went out on a most romantic date, which happens once every 3.78 years. He was feeling quite proud of himself for setting up an entire evening of dining and strolling. Very impressed indeed.

via tracey clark

It all started out when the client he is working for gave him a tip. That's right a cold hard cash tip and told him to take his lovely wife out on the town. Apparently when I suggest such a thing it's considered nagging, when it comes from the guy paying the bills, it's a brilliant idea. I have never thought of giving him cash in exchange for date night... something to ponder.

via doobleh-vay

The fact that I am still discombobulated after a few days only proves what a lovely evening it was. Brilliant that boy is sometimes. Though he has the advantage of knowing I'm a sucker for wine and french cuisine and anything to make me think we are far away and very chic people.

Fashion Divas! Frock Clothing Fashion Show 1

2010-04-20T13:09:00.000-07:00

Oops. Monday streaked by in a blur of rushing about, visiting with friends and an overall bustle of activity. But I have a little treat for you this fine tuesday...

Frock Clothing!

This is my absolute favourite store in all of Kelowna. She has some of the loveliest second hand clothing a girl could hope for, affordable pricing and lots of funky local designers and jewelry makers to boot. They are planning a big old move to downtown Kelowna in the next few weeks, so if you're in the hood be sure to stop in and say helllllo to the lovely ladies of Frock.

Here's a little looksey at a fashion show put on by at Summerhill Winery this past Fall.

good versus evil

2010-04-13T10:54:00.000-07:00

The oldest battle alive is that of good versus evil. It's something we face daily and often we all find ourselves questioning whether good really can triumph or whether we are all doomed at the hands of evil.

It's everywhere; crooked businesses taking advantage of honest consumers. Big corporations polluting and causing irreversible damage to cut costs. Governments being dishonest. Kids being cruel. Parents abandoning children. Crime. Murders. Carelessness. We hurt, do harm, pillage what isn't ours for the taking. How does good survive?

But it does. In every fleeting moment, even when evil seems to dominate. When the Nazis were hell bent on taking over the world, people banded together, hid those who were innocent- risking themselves and their families. People put themselves on the line when tested, despite the initial reaction to run.

I have friends who've been hit with a series of increasingly larger misfortunes. Even though their faith is waning they've persevered and haven't let the nastiness of others to penetrate they're aspirations.

Against all odds most of us still believe in good triumphing and I am one of them... are you?

preloved

2010-04-12T06:21:00.000-07:00

I've resolved to making better decisions when it comes to the goodies and products I buy. I know original right? It's a tricky marketplace these days. All those green labels and natural products make choosing a bit confusing and the task of shopping tedious when it comes to reading labels and finding out what I'm actually getting.

However, I adore shopping the vintage/second-hand/preloved circuit- another original route, yah? The sifting and searching can be a little overwhelming at first, but when you find a gem, isn't it worth the battle?

So I got to thinking maybe, y'all might want to see some of the places I'm checking out? What do you think? A new Monday ritual for your viewing pleasure? A little flirtation with some new finds?? Are you in my friends?

Well I hope so, because the first stop on this new route is pretty special. Preloved is a clothing line developed in Toronto by a conscious pair who use reclaimed vintage fabrics to create one-of-a-kind designs. Their company has expanded across the globe and continues to grow.

sabrina jacket

rio skirt

belen pants

Makes you want to start pulling apart your previously loved faves and make something new, right?

the inbetween times...

2010-04-09T11:00:00.000-07:00

What thoughts pop up when you're in between "important" thinking, planning, scheming, considering, and so on? I've started keeping tabs on these little thoughts and my favourite are these:

What thoughts run through my dog's head? Does he worry? Does he wonder? What language is flicking through his brain? Is it barks, or just pictures, or is it just reaction to the moment?

kaz- he does look worried doesn't he?

When I'm 90 years old is the world going to be any different? It might look different but will we all be tangled up in the same need to keep up, out do, achieve, attain, speak our minds, make a difference? Are we going to be super humans in sixty+ years? Or are we going to crumble like the great civilizations before us?

via lovely little things

Am I capable of not thinking? (then I try to stop thinking...) Yeah this isn't working.

via design crush

Is it actually possible to spontaneously combust? What would that look like? What if I combust right here in traffic? Would anyone notice?

via mimi charmante

Them's my thoughts of late. I like catching myself thinking random thoughts, and being totally engrossed in them. The stories that seem to spin from these thoughts... it's like catching someone singing in their car with all the windows rolled up so it looks like they're yelling at no one. You know???

What ponderings do you bust yourself with? Come on spill them...

talking with ghosts

2010-04-07T11:53:00.000-07:00

I recently discovered my lovely grandmother died.

Which was funny because it was she who was telling me this. We were eating sushi and I wondered if people were only seeing me on my own talking to an empty chair, instead of the elegant older lady I saw staring back at me.

So I reached out and touched her. She was very much alive.

So how was it that the government had decided she'd been immortal since November 2009?

How indeed?

She discovered she was a walking, talking ghost when she tried to pick up her prescription at the pharmacy. There she was awaiting her bottle of tricks, when the pharmacist she's known for years, approached her-- looking rather perturbed.

It would seem, she said, the government thinks you. are. ummmm. deceased.

Now that's not something a person encounters on a regular basis. My sweet little Nana, in all her nobility and grace, burst out laughing as the young woman stood fidgeting uncomfortably.

I told them I was staring at you, and you were very much not. ummm. deceased. But they told me they had proof you were very much. ummm. deceased.

But let's just get this straight... she's alive and kicking. And the government has misguided proof that she is, well. Not.

Proof? Perhaps we should send them a video? Or a blood sample? Corpses don't have blood, do they?

How does this happen? How does a live person become dead, for months by the way, without anyone knowing?

Anyways it's sorted out. They sent an apology apparently. We are waiting to see what one says to a mistake like this one.

Perhaps it will read something like this:

sorry we off'ed you, it wasn't personal. Consider yourself resurrected. Sincerely the Government.

A weekend with boy & friends

2010-04-06T17:06:00.001-07:00

It was the boy's 31st birthday this weekend.

So we did what the boy (or rather 31 year old man) wanted to do:

Snowboard in revelstoke- via Jeff Curtes

Drink beer- via the Selby

Dinner with friends- via w e h e a r t i t

Did the easter bunny visit you? Did you make any startling revelations this long long weekend? I did. And I'm being serious when I realized I am this right down to my bones:

happy- via we heart it

Disconnected

2010-04-01T11:43:00.000-07:00

I have to admit... I liked not having internet. And I'm not the type to always be connected, waiting for the inbox ping to acknowledge a new email awaiting my response. I'm not an important person when it comes to deadlines and people needing my approval and business that can't wait. In terms of importance, I'm just a little guy. Or gal. But I every once in a while, I get all busy-bodied and important feeling, and rushing here and there, attending to this and that, and checking my email 500 times a day. Until I crash, or the internet crashes, or everything falls apart. And then...

Nothing. And my head deflates and I breathe. In and Out, over and over.

So you see, I realized it's a very nice thing not be important. Truly important. With big fat decisions that impact many in varying degrees. That takes a special person. And that person isn't me. I can't imagine having to be "ON" all the time.

Working in the service industry, with people to cater to-- ALL types of people-- their needs, and wants and issues and happiness and frustrations, well that's enough being "ON" for me. I can do that. Work with people and address people's needs. I'm fairly patient. But I can't imagine being that way ALL THE TIME.

So how do some people do it? The multi tasking to oblivion and being busy and important, just thinking about it tires me.

Do you think it's habit? Always feeling the need to do instead of being? Is it just that we get used to a state of motion and feel uncomfortable when we're still? Are you a busy important person... and if so do you take breaks for sanity reasons or wait until you break? What happens when you're quiet? Do tell.

Another disney movie put to shame

2010-03-31T12:09:00.000-07:00

Imagine a deer. Docile, right? Grazing grass and looking out at you all fluttery eyed and gentle. Bambi was always one of your favourite disney's, wasn't it? Except for the scary fire/storm scene, which no one really talks about, you were enthralled by the little wobbly tike, weren't you?

Until the day you find yourself in a brawl with the little guy. Who as it turns out isn't so little, or docile or fluttery eyed.

Impossible you say? Well it happened to a friend of mine. He was rushed by a big momma, like a quarterback being assaulted by the defense. Thrown 10 feet into the bush and snarled at, huffed at, stomped at.

He doesn't like Bambi, anymore.

Bambi was a misrepresentation. Grossly overrated.

Still not a believer? Watch my friends, just watch.

PS- internet is back and running... we can talk about it tomorrow.

Technical difficulties

2010-03-26T10:44:00.000-07:00

we are experiencing technical difficulties at the Nugent household. Which means I am without internet connection and therefore connection to you. Sniffle Sniffle. Our friendly internet provider has assured me that someone will be around to sort this all out but at present time they will not be visiting for another 10 days. GASP!

Which of course had my heart beating and perspiration dripping from my brow. All a bit silly really, because isn't it nice to disconnect sometimes? And isn't it funny how the possibility of no internet or phone or vehicle or connection to that big old world makes us feel a sense of tininess? Yep. we're small when we don't have the world to lean on, to tell us jokes, to keep us up-to-date on all the goings ons.

I shall be in touch my friend and let you know about my internet exile adventures.

Don't forget to turn your lights off on Sunday for Earth hour!

Everyday Magic

2010-03-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

Did you ever look at a shaft of light and see fairy dust lingering in the air? Now I know your adult mind sees dog hair and skin cells and another reason to clean instead of playing, but don't you remember when magic was an everyday occurrence?

Perhaps, my grown-up friends, we need a little magic infusion in our days. Taxes and housework and chores can wait, but if we don't look for the magic in the everyday it will simply disappear like Tinkerbell, when we stop believing in fairies. So here's a little list to remind you that magic is present, even when you're not looking:

The world is spinning regardless of the hour minute or second. It never takes a sick day or threatens to quit. It's very self-less.

via we heart it

Forests are perfect little systems, each mini cell plays a vital role, everything lives and dies and nothing is wasted. The original GREEN movement.

via we heart it

You can throw a ball against a wall and it will come back to you. Brains are magnificent.

via we heart it

Regardless of all our faults, humans continue to believe in Love and Life and Good.

via bits of beauty

Swinging in a hammock will cure even the darkest moment.

via geoff's flickr

Have a magical day, mes amis.

talking to strangers

2010-03-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

I love when people say little shocking things, or admit to tiny secrets, or blurt out something completely inappropriate. It always makes me feel a little more human. A little more connected. Especially when those people are a little bit foreign to you, like the grocery lady or the guy and his dog, or the mom who brings her kid to daycare.

I've been finding myself in this situation many times in short period of time. One mom revealed how she had fantasies about meeting some guy like the main heartthrob in a romantic comedy and he whisks her away and showers her with love. And then she said she knew it wasn't real life and real life was her son and her husband, but it's a nice thought when the boys are being F*** heads. But the best part was she didn't say anything like: oh I'm such a terrible mother/wife, how could I feel that way. She just said her piece and then laughed and went about her day.

A man walked past me and my dog and we said hello. He took this as an opportunity to tell me how he'd just moved back to town after years of living in Korea. He was lonely and had no job prospects. I nodded my head and he grinned. He eventually said he best move along and thanked me for listening.

I think I like these little revelations because they often reflect some piece of our humanness that we all feel. I think it's brave and curious to talk openly to someone you don't know, but I suppose in some ways it's easier to be honest with someone you're not invested in, than someone whose life is entwined with you own.

Have you ever opened your mouth and unintentionally your heart, to someone you barely knew? Do tell.

stop video found via nectar & light

{don't forget to turn the tunes off on the sidebar}

ever evolving

2010-03-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

Isn't it funny when you've known someone your entire life, and suddenly you learn something new about them?

Yesterday I discovered a little something about my baby sister. I've always known she is sweet, and sensitive. A regular top-shelf brand. Though she's terrible with time. As in the. worst. person. ever. with. time.

And she can't throw. Not even a little bit. I discovered this yesterday after watching her pitiful attempt at throwing a ball for the pup. She was unbearable for me to watch.

And as I pride myself on surprising everyone with my left-handed spin (yep I'm left-handed) on a football, I hadn't thought my sister hadn't received the amazing-ball-throwing gene. I suppose it's not something that comes up on a day-to-day bases is it? We don't sit around wondering if our siblings can throw a gnarly curve ball... so these are the things we learn about each other in tiny moments that float up throughout our lives. Amazing isn't it? You know someone forever and then they surprise you with a talent or lack of one or something you had no idea about. People are astounding aren't they?

I had to help the poor girl. I mean we're talking truly pathetic performance. So we workshopped her throw.

It's improved enough that she can walk on the field with a little more pride. I can't guarantee she won't get giggles, but at least they won't point and laugh. Baby steps.

perhaps she would do petter with balloons?- via weheartit

or maybe inside the ball?- via Didier 82 on flickr

at least she won't get as many laughs as this girl- via Lubia F on flickr

A little whimsy

2010-03-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't it be blissful to live in one of Australian artist- Eveline Tarunadjaja's images. Me thinks it would. Especially the one of the girl and the whale. I think it would be nice to hang out with a kind whale for the day. Don't you think?

I'm always in awe of creative people who can make me feel all goo-y with their creations and words and voices and such. It's a lovely gift to give to the world... don't you think?

Shamu

devoted

afternoon tea

My apologies for the short posts this week. I don't know where the past six-weeks have gone. I'm a little convinced I've been in bed for most of it, but people tell me I've been dashing about so I'll have to believe them. I hope these pieces will make your thursday a little more sparkly.

Boys with guitars and girls who want to be them

2010-03-16T14:53:00.000-07:00

I've decided I need to start watching my heart and head a little more closely, when it comes to watching movies and reading books and listening to music.

I get wrapped up. And I trick myself into thinking I could become that person or character. Or that I am in fact, that person or character. In particular if these characters have a hidden self-- I like the ideas of hidden selves and am forever thinking up different hidden selves I could have.

I also secretly wish I could pull off lots of tattoos- weheart it

Like right now, I think I could be a boy with a gravelly voice and a beat up acoustic guitar.

What???

Well the boy with the guitar and the gravelly voice is the exact. opposite. of. me. at. this. moment. And I like opposition. I like the idea of pouring my heart into a song and playing so hard the strings snap in front of an arena full of ogglers. That's what William Elliott Whitmore did when he was the opening act for Clutch in Vancouver. Just sat on a stool, him and his guitar. And whipped the massive crowd into a frenzy when he blew off two strings and kept right on singing. Just a skinny dude with a bunch of tattoos.

via we heart it

I would like to be that guy.

2010-03-12T14:35:00.000-08:00

Do you ever get the feeling that life is whizzing by without letting you know it? Like time is just tickity ticking and yet it feels like you're not quite in the loop and on task and accomplishing and you know getting on with the whole life thing?

yes please via cup of jo

Yeah. I feel like that.

Because the last time I looked I could have sworn it was winter and now it's March and soon it will be summer and then I'll be middle aged and babies will grow up and then have babies and then and then... well it will all end one day won't it.

another boggling item to add to the list via Kris Atomic

So.

I better get crackin.

You?

finally rules I can live by via mackink

2010-03-11T14:15:00.000-08:00

You know the sludge at the bottom of the sink after you've washed a big load of greasy, food-baked-on, nasty pots and pans? You know. The stuff. The Sludge. That you would never. ever. touch. when you were a kid. And your mom would just swoop in bare handed, grab a fist full and dump it into the garbage. At that point you were certain she was going to go into toxic shock. And then you could probably get away with eating the entire carton of ice cream even though you didn't finish your (insert your most detested childhood meal here). Except she didn't and then you were horrified and a little afraid. It only proved your mom was indestructible. Remember when you thought your parents were indestructible. And you were sure you would never. ever. become an adult as indestructible as them.

I swore I would never. ever. touch. the. sludge. But that promise has died. Along with all the other promises I made about never getting married. or owning a house. or kissing boys (that one went out a LONG time ago). or doing anything to do with chores or bills or work or the boring stuff.

And today at work I realized I was the indestructible one among the babes in daycare. I swept a handful of ants into my palm and threw them outside. The kids avoided any bad behaviour after that maneuver.

the best part of spring??

2010-03-10T14:55:00.000-08:00

Besides the sun and the green and the flowers and dirt on your hands from cleaning the garden?

Bikes.

Lots of them. Cruisers and mountaineers, and speedsters, and downhill monsters. I think they're all delicious. So the other morning I rode to work, saddling up my sister's hand-me-down Brody. Yes hand-me-down, one of the many items I've received pre-loved by my big sis. But I didn't care. I love my bike. And what my bike can make me feel. Like the chill on my cheeks and wind in my helmet (?) and feeling I'm unstoppable. Yep, unstoppable.

Because when it's you and your bike and it's a little bit dangerous with the traffic and tarmac and honking and such, you just get a sense of livelihood. You know? You can play chicken with the semis and blow through red lights and pretend to be winning the tour de france. Or you could just ride because it's nice for the environment. Depends if you're into being a grown-up and doing things only because it's good.

I'm more into the fun part. But if I'm surrounded by people who insist fun is child's play, I'll say I do it for the environment. Because those people kind of scare me.

Since I plan to ride all around town as much as possible, I think I'd like to look like this:

via london cycle chic

And I would like to get a nice big basket like this:

via ridin pretty

And maybe a light and a bell:

via a gift wrapped life

And maybe my sweet will take me on a bike date like this:

via snippet and ink

Superpowers

2010-03-08T14:03:00.000-08:00

Wouldn't it be nice if we all had a superpower that was just ours and made us unique and whole and purposeful. Everyone would have to appreciate everyone else because they had something no one else had. I sense this would bring an abrupt halt to all wars and suffering and heartache. Our awe of each other would stop us from ever hurting anyone else. And even if we did someone would have a power that would heal it instantly.

As much as I think flying or super duper strength or the ability to see the future (this one would be far too stressful for little old me), I think my superpower would be the power to put everyone at ease, even in times of crisis.

Wouldn't that be nice? To be that person who could silence a room and make everyone feel like a baby being rocked, like all the troubles in the world can't possibly be that bad. To ease suffering and the soothe the heart when faced with the unanswerable questions of the universe. It would be nice to have powers like that.

But then I suppose there are a few people like that in our world:

Amma- the hugging saint

the 14th Dalai Lama

Elmo

I hope your day is filled with ease my friends.

ooops

2010-03-05T09:16:00.001-08:00

I really didn't mean to miss yesterday's post, but the day slipped away and with hubby's fast approaching departure and an extra work load, well, I did let it slip. Sigh.

But today is a different story. Today I took the day off work and we stayed here much later than usual:

we heart it

And we intend to drink this all day:

we heart it

And venture out only to enjoy this:

the Selby

And this:

unknown

I have to work tonight so we are making the most of the daylight hours. I will have much more to say next week, until then I hope your weekend is lovely.

Donna Karan Short Film

2010-03-03T12:25:00.001-08:00

I love christina ricci. She's intriguing don't you think? Something tells me we could be friends.

Enjoy this video, hope it gets you through your wednesday.

PS don't forget to turn off the weekly mix on the right sidebar

Did someone say hockey?

2010-03-02T13:25:00.000-08:00

I believe Vancouver must have an Olympic hangover. Poor vancouverites are creeping out of their homes, blinking and scratching their heads wondering where all the red and white went.

We were there. After the Game. THE GAME. We probably don't need to talk about it. The magic. THe glory. The win. We were there, wandering with thousands and thousands of people. Cars honking with enthusiasm. People literally rushing the streets.

I have never seen so many people. Nowhere particular to go, just swaggering around feeling patriotic and chaotic and happy. Really happy. Over the top everyone is my very best friend kind of happy. Never seen so much red and white. Never heard Oh Canada sang so many times in such terrible terrible pitch. Granville and Robson were swarming with people, hugging, high fiving, drinking. I didn't see one fight. I saw hooligans, yes. But mostly people were loving and laughing.

At one point we came across a lone dude in a USA jersey. In a sea of red this man in blue was laughing and slapping everyone on the back, high fiving and hugging strangers. Rivals.

via alfie tumblr

At one point my bleary eyed boy threw his arm around my neck and whispered:

"I wish everyday we could walk around high-fiving each other, it would make the world a better place."

Indeed.

Diana says hello.

2010-02-25T14:01:00.000-08:00

Diana photos are rarely what you expect. They are individual and have personality and don't play by the rules. Sometimes you get two images on one photo and other times you are surprised by how perfectly this camera can capture the moment.

Anyways, the developer decided to cooperate. Now we can see what this camera does with black and white.

Also. The little asian man says hello. He hopes you all enjoy the photos.

Well technically he didn't actually say that, but I'm sure he meant to. He was busy taking photos of babies for their passports. Which brings me to the next question: Why didn't I have a passport when I was 6 months old?

Whenever I saw a woman dressed in traditional bolivian attire it reminded me of something. I don't know what. Like when you know the answer but you can't quite word it. They had a quietness that was fierce. Their faces were creased with wisdom and when they laughed in their little gaggles, well I nearly asked if I could join their lives, but I didn't.

It was sweltering on this day. We had to pass across the border by foot and wait in line for 2 hours to have our passports stamped. It felt like controlled chaos. Donkeys and foreigners and potatoes farmers. Bikes with sacks of onions and mangoes to sell. Chaos. In the loveliest form.

Mountains. Snow. Home.

Canoeing. You can see the canoe imposed over that man of mine. It was quiet. Calm. No one but us out there.

worry wort

2010-02-24T15:16:00.000-08:00

I come from a long line of worriers. My mother is a worrier, my grandmother a worrier, my sisters are worriers... it's in my blood.

And yet.

I used to be certain I would never become a worrier. The same way I was certain I would never get married, I would never buy a house, and I would never settle down. The same way I was certain I would be a gypsy tripping around the world for my entire life. Hmmmmm. How the mighty fall.

I'm not sure when it happened. This worrying thing. I think it may have been when I started getting broken hearts. Broken hearts worry about repairing themselves. Then they worry about getting broken again. They worry about never being loved or never finding a friend. Yep, I'm pretty sure that's where it started.

via india knight posterous

But then I found love. And the worries grew when I said I do. Now my worries encompassed another and our mutual interests. They encompassed dreams coming true, or falling apart. Paying the bills or not. To own or to rent. Simplify or grow.

And now I'm very aware of this worrying thing. It's like an involuntary tick that creeps up when you're trying to act cool.

via bottom of the ironing basket

But today I read about a lady who is moving from being a worrier to a warrior. I love a good play on words. And I love the idea of slicing through the world, fearlessly, hopefully and focused.

So I'm going to be a warrior too. Just don't ask me about finances or the future, I might start picking my hang nails again.

away

2010-02-22T14:40:00.000-08:00

We went away this weekend. Yes We. He's home. The boy is home. At least for a moment. So we went away with sister and brothers and brother in-laws and sister in-laws and it was a little tricky to remember who was who and with whom. But we went to one of my favourite town's in all of BC- Nelson. And though there weren't as many of these as anticipated:

we heart it

There was plenty of this:

we heart it

And an array of this:

we heart it

We reset and started dreaming again. Quietly. So no one can come along and stomp on those little zygote ideas. We keep them hidden in quiet parts of our day and night. Mostly at night. Because the boy is more agreeable at night. And when you whisper your aspirations at night not even the universe pays attention. It gets confused with your night dreams and your heart dreams. So it's best to discuss these things when the stars are out. In one of your favourite town's in all of BC. Because if the Universe doesn't listen, than maybe it won't interfere. In a bad way. Because sometimes the universe is a little jerky, you know? That's life... everyone can be a bit jerky now and then.

{PS I was really hoping to have some Diana photos for you, but the developer wouldn't coordinate with its poor little asian man owner. He sends his regards- the asian man, not the developer, it doesn't give a crap}

Om?

2010-02-18T12:26:00.000-08:00

So the trick to mastering these poses is wearing heels, a drenched white wife beater, and body paint... no wonder I'm not enlightened.

via vanity fair

via W

via nineahmad

And to think I thought it was diligence, patience and practice. How silly of me.

projects.

2010-02-17T17:08:00.001-08:00

It's good to have projects. Here's something I'm working on. A little look-- do you like the few prototypes?

{Photos and words by me... for you}

drawing the curtain

2010-02-16T15:41:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid I had a desk in my room that consisted of a piece of painted MDF attached just below my windowsill. Below this desk was my cave-- featuring a most inviting eyelet curtain door, which generally hid my dolly bed and other very important things.

Now this may come as a shock to you, but I got sent up to my room. Often. And every time I was doomed to a sentence of hard time in my bedroom- after I had thrown myself across the bed in wild protest, kicking, screaming, creating chaos in my chamber- I would slip behind the curtain. Surrounded by my most cherished possessions (mostly dolls and stuffed animals), I would invent my own world of make believe and fairy tales and no punishing mommies and daddies-- which helped me forget all about my punishment. Until I heard the stairs creak. At that point I would rip back the curtain, fling myself across the bed and splay my arms over my eyes so they could see I was deep in penance.

To this day I have places to go when the world spanks me with a wooden spoon. I think it's the most important thing to have. So here are a few places I would like to have as my curtained make believe spots.

via mary ruffle/ this is glamourous

via daydream lily

via cup of jo

Keep floating

2010-02-12T14:20:00.000-08:00

I know someone. She is a most interesting being. Just about one of the sweetest creatures in the world, save for the few times she is a space cadet, floating somewhere between earth and sky. It isn't her fault. She was born that way. I know. I remember her that far back. She really has always believed that life would support her, and so it has. She believes in the magic of life and all things associated. She laughs with her entire body, and isn't afraid of the ugly face you make when you're laughing that hard. She'll tell you the truth even when it's not very nice, but she'll put it in the nicest sentence you've ever heard.

Still. With all that belief and magic and floating-- she's had her heart smushed.

It doesn't matter that they weren't together for all that long-- she was smitten from the start. That's how she is. Doesn't hold back. Believes the world will catch her, even if she falls with a thud. Not a mean muscle in her body, but she's sure got a lot of love in the little heart.

What do you say to someone, who's heart is obviously hurting, especially as THE DAY of all things LOVE is so very close by.

reach it- by monjojo via etsy shop

You say:

Please don't stop believing in a world that catches you. Don't stop believing in that GREAT BIG LOVE you know is out there. Don't stop floating around. Don't get jaded-- or you might just become like everyone else, and that would be a real tragedy. Because if you become like everyone else, it might ruin you forever. And if you stop believing, that boy who comes along, and is careful with your heart, well, he might not see just how enormous that heart is, if you tuck it away out of sight. So please keep floating, even if that means you're an hour late for our coffee date. Maybe just get a watch.

Grace.

2010-02-11T15:32:00.000-08:00

I wasn't going to write a post today... perhaps because it was late and I had no words for you. But then I read this, at the sartorialist, and I thought I should give you a glimpse at the kind graceful things my man does for me. After all, I write a good chunk of my posts about his antics, that are less heart fluttering from adoration and more heart palpitating from anxiety. Here is a nod toward the heart flutters.

• He sends me little emails on days when he is far away and knows I need a hug

• He phones every morning he's away for a chat (coffee dates)

• He rubs my yoga-induced aching legs every time I ask him to

• He cleans up the kitchen even after I've made an enormous mess making dinner

• He believes in every little dream I have ever voiced and stands behind me regardless of my indecisions in life's pursuits.

made by: coulson macleod

There are more. Many more, but secrets are good in relationships. Best when shared between two people.

because I am not a goddess...

2010-02-10T13:31:00.000-08:00

via the publics

"Life has to be discovered from moment to moment, from day to day. It has to be discovered. It cannot be taken for granted. If you take it for granted that you know life, than you are not living. Three meals a day, clothing, shelter, sex, your job, your amusements and your thinking process-- that dull repetitive process is not life. Life is something to be discovered. And you cannot discover it if you have not lost, if you have not put aside what you have found. Put aside your philosophies, religions, racial taboos, customs, and all the rest of it. For they are not life." "A man who says he knows is already dead. But the man who says "I don't know" who is discovering, finding out, who is not seeking an end, not thinking in terms of arriving or becoming-- such a man is living, and that living is truth."

words by Krishnamurti-- whether he knew about life, the heart, the mind, the spirit, well now that's opinion. Regardless, in my opinion, these words are beautiful. And I hope you enjoy them the way I do. They make me feel not quite so weird when I sit, holding my breath, thinking about what I would be if I were a goddess. Not so alone in my searching I suppose. Discovering is a much nicer picture than someone holding her breath thinking about Life. Much nicer indeed.

Clark Gable line from Postal Service via days and hours

happy colours

2010-02-09T13:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Cameras-

I'm sorry I've been away and paying more attention to the written word. He tends to get a bit more cranky than you. You just sit there hopeful and wishing to make pretty things. If you and I could make photos like these, maybe we could rekindle our flame? Let's try anyway.

{All photos found through Etsy and all are for sale.}

If I was a goddess this is what I would be...

2010-02-08T14:10:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been trying to figure out Life on the macro scale and why and how and all the other questions that can never be answered. I do this sometimes. Get all shook up for no apparent reason, and then I have to spend some time mulling things over, looking at my feet as I walk the dog for hours. Hoping, wishing, searching for answers that ultimately can't and won't and maybe shouldn't even be answered. I generally turn to old texts, or texts on old theories, though I know the intellectual mind could never fully understand the Universe in all its complexities and simplicities. Sometimes when I think about the Universe, and how big it is and how light travels and how it's constantly expanding I get so overwhelmed I have to hold my breath just to remember I'm human and can't possibly know all the answers.

But if I were a goddess and did have all the answers here's what I would do with my all encompassing powers:

First I would dress like this:

via sugar pop tarts

I would do this for people who's faith is waning:

via the beauty file

I would remind the world to do more of this:

via cup of Jo

And less of this:

via we heart it

I would probably still wonder this:

via lolita

I would believe this with my whole heart:

via we heart it

And this would be my one go to for unanswerable questions:

via Mackin Ink

maybe I don't need all the answers after all.

2010-02-04T13:19:00.000-08:00

via le love

Being apart has it's positive aspects:

1. Sprawling your body across the bed in the middle of the night

2. Eating the same thing for breakfast lunch and dinner, without anyone knowing about it

3. Quiet time to think and write and do nothing in particular

4. No ones stinky clothes to pick up

5. Anticipating meeting again, and knowing no one else in the world could possibly make you give up all the above good things.

my dog the shit disturber

2010-02-03T15:08:00.000-08:00

I hadn't planned on telling you this story, as I felt this space draws a cultured crowd, who enjoy the finer details in life, but then I realized I am not of elite blood so if you can't be bothered with toilet talk I recommend checking out this website instead.

This tale begins a few days back when my beloved Dog, Kaz, and I went on a nice little stroll around the neighbourhood. As is often the case, we stopped and tossed his beloved kong. To say he adores his kong is an understatement. It is his admirable companion, aside from me and Chad, his raison d'etre, his lifeline. When the kong goes under the couch and out of his reach, he will lay heartbroken next to the place where his BFF fell victim to the underbelly of the couch, and wait for someone to rescue it.

As we walked back to the house I lead the way, and Kaz took up the rear, with important sniffing to be done. As soon as I rounded the corner I realized he was not on my heels and so turned back to find him. There he was whining at the bushes, his kong no where in sight. SO I told him to find it and get moving. But he just sat there whining. When I took a few steps towards the him, I could see his kong lying in front of him. So I yelled at him to get it and come, but he didn't budge. Finally I made my way over to him and saw the problem: He had obviously had an unexpected gurgle and had had to evacuate pronto, except in his haste he managed to cover his poor kong. It was a dilemma indeed. Now I am not one to shy away from unpleasantries-- in fact I even clean the sink goo out with my bare hands, but I draw a line at picking up toys covered in warm turd. So I told him he had to decide what to do: leave it be or suck it up and carry it home.

Kaz is a 'leave no mad behind' kind of dog. But he was mad at me, spitting and snarling once we'd made it home. And to add insult to injury I made him leave it outside in the rain to clean off.

Yesterday, after hosing the thing off, we set out once again for our stroll. And while at the field he dropped the ball just a few meters ahead of me. This is one of his games, drop the ball a little bit further away to prove he's master. I was talking to him and telling him how pathetic I thought that was, and then as I reached down and picked up the kong I discovered the warm and mushy telltale sign of the masterplan behind his little game. I am quite sure I heard him laughing and muttering how it served me right to force him to eat his own feces, but then it's hard to know as I don't speak Dog.

Touche, Kaz, touche.

2010-02-02T15:00:00.000-08:00

How exciting. A blank page. Now that the retelling of our South America adventures have finally come to an end, we get to start fresh. Feels quite airy around here. No timeline to stick to, no details to remember... it's like a whole new world here in my imaginary place, where all my imaginary friends gather to hear my words of wisdom... shall we begin?

So. {Crickets} Anyone got any jokes?

Maybe I should tell you about the places I go, when away is too far, and home is where I am. This place is magical and can happy-fy even the worst of days. It is filled with adventure, romance, philosophy and science fiction. Wait what?

Tree of Yoga-- well written and simple for those seeking yoga philosophy

The Library. Sigh, lust, I love this place. I am aware this makes me a grand nerd, but I can't help myself. I honestly go at least once a week, just to pop in and say hello to the building.

It's a very nice building, all brick and big windows, with rounded walls and secret places to sit. Not that I ever sit there... no. I peruse.

The Prophet- My mom had this book when I was a little girl and I always loved it. She bought me a copy a few years ago.

Running my finger along the spines of various books, I am always in search of that one tale that will bring new light to something fading in my life You know the book I'm talking about. The one that inspires you, and makes you think, without having to think too hard. The one that's witty and heartfelt and adventure and deeply satisfying.

The Alchemist-It's like a fairytale for adults, and everyone loves Mr. Coelho

It's like my own little treasure hunt, finding a book that was written just for me in that moment. It doesn't happen too often that a book fits my ever changing mood and I have only just begun to send them back unfinished if I can't stand to leaf through til the end. I used to feel bad about this, but now I realize, there's too many titles to sort through to bother with the ones that don't fit right. Someone else will surely love it, so why bother trying to make it work when you're clearly not made for one another?

The Manny- A funny silly book, great for airplanes.

Which books are you reading?

The final days...

2010-02-01T17:15:00.000-08:00

For my last supper, Agustin, Morgan's charming other half, arranged for us to dine out in style at a local tango performance. The dining area was enormous and was, I'm told by Mr. Charming himself, one of the oldest restaurants in Buenos Aires. I think he said it used to be a coffee house and I'm pretty sure there was something about a christmas tree and his grandmother going there as a little girl, but I was so enraptured by the vintage romance of the building, with wrapping balcony, and ancient waiters in white dress shirts and slicked back hair, that I completely forgot to listen to the mini-history lesson. Forgive me Agu, you were by far the best tour guide of my trip!

via hostel colonial

The dancing, the music, the singing was sultry and soulful. And I wanted desperately to know how to dance like that. Apparently, the tango began as a form of presenting prostitutes, a little classier than forcing the poor girls to hang out in dark street alleys. The pimp and his harlot would begin a slow, seductive choreography, he moving her this way and that, revealing her curves and ability to move.

via Flickr

Emotion and lust and all things provocative were reflected in each step the dancers took, each melody played by the four-piece band, and each heart wrenching tune sang by the duo. There was one dance in particular, with a chair and one couple, that had me wondering whether the older women in the crowd might have heart attacks from the explicit moves, but then it's Buenos Aires and people don't seem fazed by sex like we northern bumpkins.

via tumblr

When the show ended, it was past midnight, and I was amazed how quickly time seemed to pass in BA. Perhaps that's what happens when you're enraptured and not worried about bills and deadlines. We ended the night with a quick stroll through THIS amazing hotel, where I shall go stay if I ever win the lottery. Although I don't play so it might just remain a little fantasy.

In the morning Morgie and I crawled out of bed and ventured to the neighbourhood of Palermo, home of the Palermo Market, which I did not experience, but am told is enormous and filled with beautiful art, designs and tinkery.

Palermo via flickr

Palermo is to BA what Gastown is to Vancouver. It's all hip and happening, with so many wonderful stores you wonder how on earth you'll ever leave this place. But you will, and you do. Braced with a few more bags, and a few less Argentinean Pesos. We ate our enormous salads on a rooftop with all the other pretty people, and I was trapped somewhere between feeling spoiled to have such a lovely day, with a lovely friend, in a lovely city and feeling sad that this was my last lovely day, with my lovely friend in this very lovely city. As was always the case, the time crept up and soon it was time to say goodbye. I left BA the same way I arrived-- in a cab where neither I nor the cab driver spoke the other's language.

It wasn't until I cleared customs and was sitting enjoying a final glass of bubbles-- to celebrate-- that I realized how much I missed my Mr. and how urgently I wanted to see him. The next time I visit South America I insist he must be with me, because the loveliest cities are lovelier when shared with your lover.

{On Friday night, a few friends and I went and saw Jill Barber, who's songs are currently playing. She was amazing and funny and all kinds of cute so if you have a chance go see her. She is touring Canada as we speak and comes highly recommended by moi}

PS I wasn't allowed to take photos at the tango so here's a few I picked out from the many out there in the abyss.

CBC News - World - Mudslide on Peru's Inca trail kills 2

2010-01-29T16:22:00.000-08:00

CBC News - World - Mudslide on Peru's Inca trail kills 2

La Recoleta Cemetery

2010-01-29T13:17:00.000-08:00

A cemetery seems like a sparkle dampener, and yet the Cementario de la Recoleta, was beautiful in the sad way a faded and cracked photo seems timeless. When I arrived it seemed appropriate that the skies were snarling and threatening, but that only meant most people avoided the outdoors, giving me space and solitude to walk the alleyways of the tiny city of the dead, right in the centre of the very lively BA.

If I thought too hard about the remains inside the tombs, a nervous vibration would flood the back of my neck and I would have to scurry onwards. Apparently one poor young woman was buried alive in her tomb, but I avoided that area for fear of being attacked by a poltergeist. It would have been a shame to return to Canada after such an amazing trip, only to have to call the ghostbusters to remove the poltergeist pest from my soul. Precautions are often necessary when traveling.

BA stands for Being Amoured

2010-01-26T13:53:00.000-08:00

Have you ever noticed what a better version of yourself you are when on holidays? I most certainly am my most shiny sparkly self when there is nothing to do but explore and watch, and look and listen. I feel more mysterious when walking down a road I don't know, scoping out shops I haven't seen, sipping espresso in cafes I've never frequented. I feel especially shiny when people stare, because I have light hair and eyes and they do not. I stare right back, gaping at their lovely olive skin, dark hair and eyes and wonder if they know just how lovely they look. I would like to be one of them, cruising their streets with purpose instead of just cruising. But then the magic would be lost and I wouldn't look up at the buildings or down the alleys, meander through parks, down paths where I have no idea where they go.

Which is exactly what I did for my first full day in BA. Poor Morgan was strapped to her office desk, begrudgingly working under the watchful eye of her too-thin, at times fierce, german boss, who eats only yogurt and fruit, which explains the occasional ferociousness. Why do we do this to ourselves ladies?

So. I set off a handful of maps in hand, all sprinkled with hand-drawn circles. I was instructed to play connect the dots, walking from one point to the next until I arrived downtown to meet my lovely friend. I strolled for hours. Pretending I could open my mouth and an array of lovely spanish words would come forth, but when it came time to order my ensalada I panicked. The waiter urged me on and I eventually spat out my words, but the magic was broken. No lovely spanish words falling, only short, squat Spenglish. But sparkly self doesn't care about these things, she just takes it in stride.

Eventually I found my way to Morgan's office, where she was perched outside, my arrival being somewhat late. It wasn't that I was lost, just a little inconvenienced by wrong streets being where I thought they shouldn't be. Sparkly self again doesn't mind these things either.

We stitched our way through the shopping district of downtown, weaving through crowds of people, families, business men, women, grandmothers. All of Buenos Aires was out on the town and it was barely quitting time at the offices. Apparently, this is the lifestyle. People go out, enjoy themselves. They stay out until the wee hours of the morning, crawl into bed and then do it all over... which is what we did.

out of focus light

We ate dinner late, as is tradition, sipping bubbles while waiting for our table. The waitresses were nasty, rolling their eyes and barely tolerating our existence, but apparently this is tradition too. Onwards to a bar where the men were dark and forward, apparently they too picked up on my sparkly self, only to be disappointed when I pointed to my ring finger and shrugged. Body language is, after all, universal.

We danced and giggled and suddenly it was past two am. How could it be? I'm normally in bed far before then, but the sparkle self can't be stopped and as we tumbled out into the night, I noticed there was still a line to get into the bar.

'I love it here' was the last thing I thought before turning off my sparkle self and slipping into sleep.

Lima to Buenos Aires-- from four to solo

2010-01-25T16:00:00.000-08:00

I've decided to skip a recap on Lima.

Lima was neither atrocious nor vivacious, just a big ol' city that was impossible to navigate. It could never emulate the sparkle of our other stops and hops and skips through Peru. It was a city for working, for coming and going but for us it was not a city to tour and appreciate.

Or maybe I don't want to mention it because someone stole my favourite neon pink panties in Lima. And who wants to gush about a city where a girl's favourite undies get nabbed at the cleaners??? Some lady is sporting my lovely pink boy cut undies, feeling all cute and sassy just like I used to feel while wearing those particular ginch. I like to think they have helped her succeed in some way. Not in a nasty kind of way but empowering her to change the world for the better. It's a nicer image than the very possibility of some pervy guy sporting my underwear, which would be a terrible waste of the pink panty power. The panty theft was a true violation and one which will forever contaminate my thoughts of Lima.

But never mind that, because after bidding farewell to my lovely ladies three, I jumped a plane to Buenos Aires. Not even the thievery of my sassy underthings could dampen my spirits, nor the torrential rains which pummeled the taxi's windshield.

An evening amidst downtown BA

On my own for the first time in three weeks, my heart pounded as I sputtered and spit out spanish-seeming words, watching the driver's face, trying to detect the faintest sign of understanding. Unfortunately it was clear we had no idea what the other was talking about. Still, we happily chatted away, pretending to giggle at the others' assumed joke, nodding our heads when a question or response was beyond our comprehension.

After whipping through alleyways and tiny side streets, he eventually dropped me in front of the apartment building I was looking for. I reached over and handed him what I assumed was a proper tip, but judging from the way he beamed and set about getting my luggage and making a general fuss over me, I had over tipped-- handsomely.

The Pink Palace, Evita's centre stage for addressing the masses

Before I had time to think about it, there she was, my lovely friend Morgan. The girl who picked up her things and moved to Buenos Aires just because she could, only to fall madly in love with a handsome Argentinean and the city itself. So she found work, an apartment, a dog and a life on the other side of the world from ME!

But at that moment I was eternally grateful she had done all those things, so that I could finally come visit her in a city as effervescent as carbonated water. It took my breath away and I naturally wanted to ignore every last responsibility and commitment I had in Canada and simply get lost in the heartbeat of Buenos Aires, forever. I really do mean for eternity. The architecture, the art, the clothes, the food, the wine, the nightlife- I was spoiled rotten by Morgan and her man Agu, who showed me around and dazzled me to the point I thought my heart might actually sigh with relief from all the indulgence. It was a little magnificent, or maybe alot magnificent. A gigantic magnificent few days indeed.

The details that make the city

And I've always said I wasn't a city girl. Perhaps I hadn't found my city. Stay tuned...

taking a moment

2010-01-20T16:02:00.000-08:00

Whoa Nelly, I didn't realize the time. Nope. Sure didn't. I didn't realize I've been staring at this screen for at least 30 minutes, trying to grab hold of some outlandish or even slightly interesting way to open up the Amazon Basin chapter, but alas I am stumped. Shake it as I might, this tiny noggin has nothing to contribute, I think it's tired, me old tete. Poor creature, always having to carry the rest of me with it's thoughts and analysis and direction and such. Perhaps this is why I spent the final hour of work walking back and forth from computer to printer, back to computer to press print, back to printer to refill paper... and on and on until I just stood still. Stopped. Dead. And person behind me plowed into my rear but it didn't really matter. I needed a moment. So I took it, at the expense of some poor random boy who was looking a bit sheepish for smashing into me. Sigh, poor thing.

But then I suppose I did the same in Tambopata National Park. I took a moment at the expense of possibly experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity. I skipped out, which as you know, I am most wonderfully good at, and I do not apologize for having this talent. Aux contraire, petits amis... I adore it. (please don't tell my Dad)

the lodge

You see our little eco-lodge, Posada Amazonas, was bustling with jungle activities and walks and talks and such. Three- days and two nights of activities. And as much as it was great for the busy bodied and insanely inquisitive minded beings in our foursome (momma, long-legs) a little quiet time spent swinging in a hammock and not having to discuss this or that, or meet anyone new, or discuss where we were from and where we were going, well it was far too mischievous to pass up.

no more monkeys jumping on the bed

I did walk up the enormous flight of stairs in the middle of the jungle, through three levels of vegetation, to sit on top of the world gazing out at an ocean of treetops. Through the jungle we marched, sighting monkeys and leaf cutting ants, and soldier ants, and hearing the cries of forlorn jungle animals, out there, somewhere. But mostly I liked listening from my hammock, marinating in the sounds of the jungle, and the smell of torrential rains hitting giant leaves, and dirt, making thick stewy mud that sucked off your rubber boots.

Canopy Tower

But there was pirahna fishing, and I couldn't miss out on that. I was anticipating blood thirsty creatures and being able to use a leg of lamb to hook them. I pictured accidently cutting my finger and the little devils eagerly chomping after me. But that's what hollywood will do to your imagination... screws with you.

Cheating Pirahna fisherwoman

As you will see from the photo, these were not something one needed to fear. They couldn't smell our blood, or our fear. They were only interested in tiny bits of meat attached to the hook. And just for the record Long Legs didn't catch that little guy. Jesus did. Jesus our guide, not the biblical fellow. This one's name rhymed with, bay juice, pronounced "HEY ZEUS"-- more greek than biblical really.

Anyway, he baited the bloodsucker and once it was hooked slyly passed the rod to the Blond so she could have all the glory. Why reveal the truth behind the photo? Because anything she can do, I can do too, and I couldn't hook a fish. Boo. Which in reality is probably a good thing, as I don't think catch and release is very nice... I wouldn't like it if someone enticed me with juicy piece of chocolate, only to jab a hook in my mouth and then shove me underwater (the reverse of a fish out of water) then take a photo with me and just when I'm starting to see my doom, throw me back to life. It's a bit rude, really.

The many types of greenery in the jungle

The final activity I joined was a visit with a local shaman. I know what you're thinking... half-naked brown guy wearing beads and speaking in tongues... damn hollywood again- this guy was wearing a "te Quiero Peru" (I love peru) tee shirt with jeans and dirty runners. He was short and older, with a crooked grin and a tendency to hunch his shoulders. If you saw him on the street you might think he was a farmer, not a medicine man. He was very matter of fact in the way he walked us through his garden-an overrun jungle with a strangled path running through it. He pointed out plants and explained how & what they cured. Impotency, heartache, aging, cancer-- the big four, so the next time you're feeling heartbroken, flacid, old or sick, hop a plane to the Amazon, it's much nicer than the pharmacy. Warmer and far more relaxing.

Our rooms before bed

In case you wanted to donate...

2010-01-18T17:24:00.000-08:00

from the UK's Guardian

Thank you for your interest in assisting with the Red Cross response in Haiti- Canadian Red Cross

Peruvian holidays

2010-01-18T15:57:00.001-08:00

I have been struck with a mad case of the winter blahs. How does one know if one is suffering from this condition? I shall list the symptoms in no particular order:

• Lack of pizzazz (check)

• The strange desire to crawl into bed at 4pm and not come out until spring (check)

• Heartache for those people suffering on an island flattened by nature's fiery (check)

• Missing one's love due to distance & above heartache (check... 567 Km to be exact)

Perhaps this is why South America seems like a vague memory wedged somewhere between fuzzy moments and exciting times, in my memory bank. With all the sad images and newsbreaks and thousands lost buried disappeared it seems strange to be reveling in past fun-cations. Perhaps this is why the shelves filled with fluffy good time memories are wedged somewhere in the dark corners, collecting dust and mites. Let's see if we can dust them off shall we?

After shlepping our way to our dreamy beds back in Cusco (same rooms and beds for all of us!!), Mom and Maggie took nice hot showers and left Molly and I sans warm water, another night to marinate in our own trekking juices... Yum.

We'd booked ourselves three days in Cusco, to see and do everything we'd missed prior to the big hike. What did we do? Not much. Honestly, it was lovely. After being on a tight schedule with every minute calculated and accounted for it was like skipping out on history class for a day at the coffee shop gossiping with an equally unmotivated friend. Did I ever tell you about the report card I brought home in grade 11 which noted my 30-something "absent" classes??? I LOVE skipping school. Rebel without a clue or care, baby.

via we heart it

We popped our heads into the odd art gallery or museum, but really what we wanted to do was just stroll and eat and read and eat and shop and eat. So we did. Picking up Peruvian art work, sweaters, scarves... my god, my mother was unstoppable. The woman was born to shop.

via we heart it

I mostly sat outside the shops and stared at people passing, pretending to analyze the cobblestones or skyline, in hopes of maybe understanding the local gossips, sitting across the street. But alas, as much as I'd hoped, my mouth did not spill forth spanish words and phrases, nor did my ear suddenly, magically pick up the perfect understanding of what was being said. On a positive note, it meant I wasn't really eavesdropping as much as hoping to catch any word I might know. "oooh they're talking about guinea pig, maybe they're discussing dinner?" "Chico?What did the boyfriend do I wonder?" And so on and so forth. I can only imagine what they thought of me, some white girl with a burnt nose sitting outside, squinting and tilting her head, looking most perplexed or perhaps even constipated. Sigh... so much for being mysterious.

via we heart it

At one point while on holidays from our vacation abroad, the skies opened up and drained every ounce of fluid collected in each foreboding cloud. The streets turned to churning rivers of brown soupy water, collecting sewage and drowning rats as it went. But we didn't care. We happily rooted ourselves to our table in an australian cafe, where they served homesick travelers, comfort food like avocado on toast, traditional english breakfasts and giant salads.

via we heart it

Not that we were homesick or food sick for that matter. Peruvian food is delicious in every way, though none of us dared try the guinea pig. It would be like eating dog in Asia. Or a child in Canada... just not right.

By the time our itinerary (neatly printed and folded in Molly's travel pouch) told us it was time to leave Cusco, we were revitalized and ready for the amazon basin... a little heat was needed to stave off the mountain chills seeping into our bones in the Cusco squares. Loaded down with another suitcase full of artesian stuff we said good bye to our host mother and beat it to the airport ready for the next leg of the adventure.

PS I took a little break from lugging around my camera while in Cusco. Sometimes I feel the giant lens and camera body makes me stand out and I often want to blend in. So I've picked out a few photos from we heart it to illustrate our stay there. Enjoy.

After thoughts...

2010-01-13T21:09:00.000-08:00

We learned many facts about the Inca culture along the trail and I found it fascinating especially since our guides were fantastic story tellers, both with the same qualities you might imagine an ancient tribe's story teller to have. The Inca's didn't have a written language, so they relied on story telling to divulge their history and their information.

The Inca trail with its many ruins along the way was a trail of information, in which runners were sent back and forth between Cusco (the hub of civilization) and Machu Picchu, where it's believed astronomers and astrologers studied the stars for information and guidance. Ranging from when the summer and winter solstices would happen-- to inform the farmers when to plant and harvest, and information on the future-- it's believed it was revealed that the Inca's would be defeated by an attacking army (ie the Spanish). They believed in a spiritual world as much as they believed in the sciences that allowed them to create thousands of crops of corn, quinoa, potatoes... to nourish an entire civilization.

The trail so rich in history, in hundreds of thousands of past footsteps, has now evolved beyond that history and has a new depth. It's now a chance for people from all around the world to take time to make the pilgrimage for their own reasons. To celebrate love, to discover an inner depth unknown before, to quieten a doubting voice, to answer a question which might have needed time and new perspective, or perhaps to rediscover a new set of questions. Whatever the reason all these trekkers make their way to Machu Picchu, they do so to discover something.

Do I recommend it? Yes I do. I recommend every moment, every step, every drop of sweat. I recommend the bickering, the doubting, the burning lungs, muscles, brain. I recommend the quiet, the silliness, the laughter and the rain. It will not disappoint.

Our trekking outfit was amazing. We had only a few priorities: They had to employ locally, they had to pay well, they had to support the environment and they had to provide a vegetarian food option. They did all of these and were far beyond any expectation we could have had. For more information go to Llamapath treking.

I'll be back Monday for more tales from South America. Have a super weekend.