write, more. right, more?
make, believe.

a list of small things in my immediate future to look forward to:
-looking at apartments
-the drive to pontypool
-hearing that heartbeat again after so many days without it
-local musicians on stage on a saturday night
-home made kombucha tea


life lessons (brought to me by the month of june):

full time jobs are almost always too good to be true. jobs offered to you over the phone are definitely too good to be true.

when you are a student with no credit and no job, people are far more willing to take a chance on you than when you are 31 with no credit and no job.

soccer is even more boring/irritating/pointless to watch than i remember.


i can’t remember a time when i didn’t know this skin, the line of your shoulder, the back of your neck. our hands + fingertips tracing lines absentmindedly, spelling out secrets, drawing hearts. silence + nonsense, curled up like cats.
“i need to make up for all the years you felt alone.”
“i need to make up for all the people who let you down.”


"nothing + uncertainty"
embroidery on vintage doily, 2014
i am making art because i have an exhibit in april. what a strange thought, considering how infrequently i usually make art.

"nothing + uncertainty"

embroidery on vintage doily, 2014

i am making art because i have an exhibit in april. what a strange thought, considering how infrequently i usually make art.


your beating heart is the sound i live to.
my beating heart is your home.


my heart floats + lifts my tired bones off the ground, you change everything. i find myself smiling like a fool over you.

my heart leaps out of my chest like a bird, you catch it with your hands + gently fold it back into place. i remember how it feels to be happy.

if i light the way + you light the way, we’ll never be lost again.


"in 4/4 time, we’ll gather ‘round and sing this house to sleep under halogen lights"
digital shot september 25, 2013
i saw pat lepoidevin in the basement of my boyfriend’s best friend’s house last night in guelph, ontario. it was utterly beautiful. basement shows will forever be one of my favourite things: the smell of concrete and the knowledge that we are underground like a secret in the neighbourhood. i felt connected to the people who witnessed this simple and perfect show, i felt at home in a house i’ve never been to.
sometimes everything we need is just handed to us.

"in 4/4 time, we’ll gather ‘round and sing this house to sleep under halogen lights"

digital shot september 25, 2013

i saw pat lepoidevin in the basement of my boyfriend’s best friend’s house last night in guelph, ontario. it was utterly beautiful. basement shows will forever be one of my favourite things: the smell of concrete and the knowledge that we are underground like a secret in the neighbourhood. i felt connected to the people who witnessed this simple and perfect show, i felt at home in a house i’ve never been to.

sometimes everything we need is just handed to us.


i used to write.

i used to shoot photographs with cameras instead of my iphone.

i used to make mix tapes for matt.

i used to start art projects without finishing them and that was fine.

i used to glue paper to other paper.

i used to obsess about great natural light.

i used to tell stories.

i used to trade zines.

i used to watch the habits and patterns of urban birds.

i used to make lists.

i used to send mail.

i used to build unfeasable plans for the future.

i used to search for more.

i used to look at art.

i used to be less scared.

i used to take more risks.

i used to remember birthdays.

i used to be used to being tired.


i am collecting the seconds spent near you, i hold them in my lungs like fresh air.
memories of words typed in the middle of the night + sent by phone.
love letters for this modern time, filling in the space between us.
time has become irrational: hours pass in minutes, days feel like weeks.
kiss my skin + pull me close.
crush my ribs, i need you so much closer.
i don’t know where i am, other than in love with you.

imagine if we could feel like this forever.


i wake up beside him + know that i am home even though neither of us live here. his hands are like electricity on my skin, that buzz lasts for days. i’m not sure if i can feel my heartbeat or his… or both, mixing together into a new heartbeat that represents this moment unlike any other. our legs as tangled as the words we speak, faces turned towards necks + hidden from the daylight. our heavy hearts are weightless in this bed, our anxious minds are peaceful.
for a few short minutes we have all the answers.