living Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Simple snapshots of our little cave.
My apartment is five minutes away and for approximately thirty minutes each day I'm there for a coffee break.
Most of my time is spent in his bed, listening to him write beautiful music notes and laughing together at all of our silly little jokes.
Pillows. Soft Lights. Darkness. Home.
foodliving Monday, August 22, 2016
There's something so incredibly intimate about having someone to cook for or having someone cook for you. It's a lot about trust and knowing someone else well enough to trust them with your palette. One thing I've missed with the entirety of my heart is having Shay cook for me. With the stress and hustle of the last few weeks, we had more time to pick up a quick dinner than to enjoy being in the kitchen preparing a real hardy meal.
Yesterday, Shay made us tacos; homemade and delicious. I'd been craving Mexican food all weekend and was ready to go out and buy some fatty greasy food when we decided to opt for an at home low calorie option instead. He seasoned and spiced and cooked with his heart and care and as always, satisfied my cravings by purely existing and being there. Everyone goes through ups and downs and tumbles and falls and lately it's been a little hard to see the brighter side of things, of honestly anything at all. This weekend and the past week were shook with a few health scares and Shay and I stuck together, didn't push away and stayed there. It wasn't easy, it was very hard but it mattered and I felt him in my bones and in my heart.
Making homemade tacos may not seem like much but it's the little things with us. It always has been. He's my hero and my best friend and there's not much else that I could want or ask for or say. Shay made us homemade tacos and managed to steal my heart.
Just like he always does, every day in every way.
livingtravel Tuesday, August 16, 2016
I'm notorious for overthinking. I overthought this blog post. I definitely overthought these photos and on Saturday I overthought my way to checking something off of my bucket list. Long story short - Shay loves lions. His birthday was August 7th and the following weekend the Shambala Preserve was hosting their safari tours weekend of the month and I'd gotten us tickets for his birthday. We venture to a lot of little conservation centers and this one was known to house wild cats; lions in fact. I'm not very much but I do try a little and since I couldn't get someone I care about a lion to keep and hold, I took him somewhere I figured we'd be able to experience these majestic wild animals from just a few feet away.
Disclaimer: I think everything this foundation and preserve stands for is great. I completely and totally see every angle they're coming from and have absolute respect for what they do. True story - we came on the hottest day of the year. We also are two introverts that were placed in a group and guarded from front to near. The cats were tired and sleepy and trying to avoid the heat. The tour guide was a little jumbled and didn't truly have a knack for communication and I was too hyped to use my new camera lens that I brought along a wide angle lens to probably the only location ever that required the exact opposite. It was hot, we were shuffled, we weren't allowed to stand too near and it wasn't everything we'd hoped for. I'm definitely happy my money went towards something good and I don't regret the day or spending time with someone I care for however, I definitely didn't win best birthday presenter of the year and though I'd literally dreamt about photographing this place for almost a year - I totally fucked up and didn't take any photographs worth appearing here.
It's a memory and a lesson and we do have another little adventure planned for this weekend so fingers crossed I stop overthinking and just enjoy living and being here and life will grant us a cooler and more pleasant experience to endear.
livingrambles Thursday, August 11, 2016
Words are swung around so loosely that most times nothing tends to really stick. Some people recall a line of letters and will live by that string for their entire lives. Others forget most facts but can memorise the harmonies of their favourite tracks. Words have always been significant and most of my life consists of remembering irreplaceable selections of sounds that somehow have effected me. What's the hardest thing someone has ever said to you? There is a difference between something that is coated with anger, emotion, or lust. There is a difference between an insult, a compliment, a hushed breathe and the sound of someone you love.
The hardest thing anyone has ever said to me was that I didn't inspire them.
What a strange coarse phrasing that touched my skin like sandpaper. Inspiration. What is inspiration but the mere sense to continue onwards and believe. We all can name off a handful of people or places, events or things that have left us with the odd hum of inspiration in our time of being. To love is to know and to know is to understand and for me to understand that someone I know didn't find me inspiring, somehow left me open.My bones have heard the clatter of hard statements times before. It's thick nature still peels zebra stripes as the scars leave me bare but this one didn't slice, didn't cut, didn't imprint on me there but instead it stayed and the letters that create that sentence are forever written in my blood stream. Pooling in my veins with deep colors of pain and I sit and ponder. Ponder what it is to inspire, to impress, to excite and I find the bitter taste of lacklustre self and understand that I lack the notion with or without the praise. I want to be inspiring. I aspire to inspire no one but only myself. And one day the hardest words I'd heard and written and said will be the definition for the woman I remember in my head.
Aspire to be Inspiring.
living Tuesday, August 9, 2016
People always speak with such certainty when it comes to their own definitions of passion. It is preached time and time again that passion is an experience that is meant to be felt and touched at all hours of every day. For me, a person who likes to feel everything and nothing, I openly rejoice at the absence of passion in my every days.
Passion is something that I revisit in the darkest ways and reinvent in my deepest moments. Passion for me is photographs of trees and dark settings, light bouncing off of landscapes that circle around a memory like a whisper. My passion is deep, painful to the extent of air and when it finds me my mind spins on the thoughts axis until my bones are bare.
Others whimper and sigh when their lives lack passion. When life lacks passion, it's the best time of all because the fact of knowledge is that one day your light will glow again and the world will ignite with a short or timely burst of passionate play and you'll be able to experience and relive a new certain way.
A lesson. A thought. A passive aggressive ache.
Stop trying to capture a feeling that is meant to set you free.