all the roads and all the miles

From the Depths of the Night, Alone

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 03:16:00 +0000

Dreams of tornadoes and lightning and old friends and water everywhere

the air is filled with moisture, as it has been for days, and sticks to my skin

everything I touch in this house is damp, everything under my fingers or toes

I don't think about you until I can't stop myself anymore.

You know we all want to let go. You know I wish I'd been that for you, that fearless, part of you there, part of you somewhere, a place where you'll never let me go.

I want these pieces of myself to disintegrate and cease

I want me to be less, to feel less, more bones and less skin.

Dreams of it never being me, always everyone else. I am just a bystander.

Dreams of me sinking.

fall came early

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 17:11:00 +0000

Apparently summer has just disappeared in a haze of nights and afternoons. Three completed summer classes (!!!!!), beach days, wandering around Peterborough, one flight to Calgary, one change of house, two new roommates, one new boyfriend, lots and lots of nights out.. It's been fantasmical. Crazy, busy, filled with friends and summerness. Lots of bike riding and late night runs. In fact, it might even be the perfect summer. I have one month of freedom before my final year of university begins, and less than that before I turn twenty-three. I think I'm becoming a real life person.

Calgary is chilly and rainy, and it feels like it would in Peterborough in late October. Part of me is glad, because I love fall, and when I return to Peterborough it will still be full-swing summer. I won't be able to wear jeans and new flannel shirts for a few more months, and if you're anything like me, you love wearing flannels, jeans, jackets, sweaters, and feeling cozy inside with a cup of coffee. Sigh.

I dream in mountains and cold, damp mornings. I dream whole.

My Sleeping Skin

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Fri, 15 May 2009 23:11:00 +0000

It's begun again- my summer skin, the summer breeze, lying out in the sun and biking like hell to school. The lilacs are almost out again. I'm hoping for some things, other things, certain things, wonderful things. I think I'm optimistic. I want to be optimistic. I want more nights on balconies, with guitars and drums. I want more dewy grass and streetlights. I want more cool beer and good conversations and possibilities. More house parties. I just.. can't wait.

The Trouble With Wilderness

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 02:19:00 +0000

"No pain here, no dull empty hours, no fear of the past, no fear of the future. These blessed mountains are so compactly filled with ~~God's~~ beauty, no petty personal hope or experience has room to be. Drinking this champagne water is pure pleasure, so is breathing the living air, and every movement of limbs is pleasure, while the body seems to feel beauty when exposed to it as it feels the campfire or sunshine, entering not by the eyes alone, but equally through all one's flesh like radiant heat, making a passionate ecstatic pleasure glow not explainable." - John Muir

In this death trap that is exam time, with an overdue essay, white stuff on the ground and coming from the sky, experiencing hours that are not explainable. It's nice to think of an escape, although sometimes one's own hell has its own nostalgic beauty. It would be nice to think of good things, but it's always easier to dwell and wallow. The pathetic weather is a direct mirror of my inner state, this me who can be the only me to dig myself out of this hole. I dwell in hours lost, I dwell in so many nights gone, I dwell in the wishes that they will happen again, only better. I yearn to stop caring about insignificant things that are impossible to change. Dwell, yearn, wish. These are all symptoms of inaction.

Afternoons in the park, with a blue sky and the sun warming the brown grass. The murmur of my friends' voices, the smell of the Quaker factory, the rush of the river. These are stuck in my mind, a place I like to go back to as often as I can. It's all changing, it will be different for better or worse, and I'm preparing myself. A year ending, a season of change, and perhaps this time I'll have to learn again how to be alone.

Tick.. Tock.

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 19:32:00 +0000

It is always my philosophy to do the things I love, even while I'm doing things I hate, so that the things I hate can be more bearable. In this afternoon's case, I'm writing an essay while searching for new music. Or searching for new music while writing an essay, on a day that might rain, in an afternoon that is all mine. In the midst of planning a new trip, while trying to finish the year, while trying to live, and breathe and eat and sleep- these months slip by. The weather is finally changing. There seems to be so much to do, always, and never enough hours. There is so much to distract. Dreaming of Spain and points unknown is easy, finding new music to get lost in is easy, committing oneself to sitting and writing is quite another story.

Listening to Ultre.

Back Alleys in Quiet Cities

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 06:17:00 +0000

Working in a mall in a money-obsessed city around Christmas gives me uncountable moments of existential crisis. I wonder, why do people need to shop all the time? Why do all 16 year old girls look the same? Why do they have to unfold all those t-shirts I just meticulously arranged? Why am I here, what is my purpose on this earth? If my purpose here is to shop, just like all these people, then get rid of me because I don't need to be here.

Obviously, I am counting down the days until my life feels real again- I can't even be bothered to hide it. One week till Peterborough time!

I was again listening to CBC Radio 2's the Signal (10pm EST), and discovered yet another gem that I am unable to download anywhere: LEIF VOLLEBEKK. Montreal'er, musician of greatness, unsigned, addictive. Visit him at his myspace and have a listen. He takes stress away almost as well as a bout of hot yoga.

Long Exposure

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 02:44:00 +0000

"Before I open my eyes I hear the river, and I know that I'm waking up in his bed. Not yet dawn, but I can tell that it's near by the way I can just make out the shape of the chair where our clothes are piled, the long, inky band that must be one of my stockings. Before I knew Sam I would have thought, it's dark, but now I see the shades of it. Know that if I keep my eyes on it that chair will begin to emerge, slowly but ever steadily, until it is finally just there, the thing that it always was. I should get up; I should be gone before there's anyone about to see me carefully closing the back door. But it's warm in his bed, there's the sound of the river and the sound of his breath, and I turn and curl myself around him, my cheek on the smooth skin of his back, I breathe in the smell of him and all that is more important than what anyone might say." Page 123, The Boys in the Trees by Mary Swan.

I am here again, the place where snowflakes fall softly in the sunny mornings, icy lumpy streets where cars slide past as I wait for the bus. I haven't seen the mountains yet, the icy crystals have shielded them from me- much to my disappointment. I have the time now, my time in this frozen city by the mountains.

I find stories in the news touching me in ways I am surprised by, things I've never experienced bringing stinging tears to my eyes for brief moments. My eyes are otherwise dry, between the arid Prairie atmosphere and the cold blasts of wind. The world is small. I know this time won't last, and simultaneously I want January to come right away or not at all.

Glowing Morning Dreams

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 05:57:00 +0000

I love walking past churches at night in the snow. I love walking under streetlights while it's snowing, letting the snow fall on my face and hearing the snow fall on branches, sidewalks, powerlines. I wish I could curl up with you on one of these nights, walking in the quiet hand-in-hand, getting home and falling into each other. I love my neighbour's singing lights, the house Christmas lights that blink in sequence to Christmas tunes. I love walking home alone.

Without and Asleep in the Snow

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 22:53:00 +0000

Luxuriating in a weekend of post-struggle, pre-exam relaxation, I can reflect on a month that has passed by far too quickly. It's cold here now, after a long bout of snow, freezing and windy and full of stars. I'm not sure how I feel these days, mostly happy, but without something- I can't put my finger on what.

Truthfully, I think I need a good night of dancing, fun, and letting loose. I need to be filled up again as these lonely days stretch on for far too long.

The Quiet City

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 04:36:00 +0000

Sometimes there is nothing I enjoy more than walking around late at night, as the snow falls thickly and there is no sound. I like seeing the city at night, shrouded by white. I like feeling like the only one awake. It kind of makes me nostalgic for a time I never lived, when the country was endlessly quiet and isolated, and you could truly be the only one around. If you've never seen The Snowman, go rent it or buy it or something.. I've watched it since I was very young, and it is the epitome of how I wish to feel on winter nights. It's kind of Christmas to me, if I lived in the English countryside. Nights like tonight, where there is little traffic on my road and even less people to be found. Quiet. Endless.

It's almost December- where has the time flown? School has kept me so busy I have barely had the time to notice the date, and now November is leaving me too. Soon I'll be in the air again, 3 more weeks until the West calls me back. Then it's 3 weeks of busy Calgary life, until the new semester starts and life evolves yet again. I hope for many more nights like this one, perhaps more filled with laughter and wine, crazy nights with those I can't live without, and who knows what else? I think, because last January, February, and March were so enjoyable, I will enjoy this time around too. I could only hope for so much.

An Aside

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 18:23:00 +0000

The other day, while walking to the liquor store, I realized that I am always in a good mood when I am walking to the liquor store.

A Remembrance Day Moment

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 16:08:00 +0000

As I sat in the library preparing an essay, the sound of a trumpet filled the air at precisely 11am. Of course, it's November 11th, and in some provinces people get a holiday to remember the fallen... Although here in Ontario.. we don't. I digress. As everyone in the University library, no matter what they were doing, stood for a moment of silence, I felt an odd combination of emotions- shame, sadness, hilarity. A minute passed, then another, and another, until I couldn't figure out if the man running the show had either fallen asleep or was so deep in thought about the fallen that he forgot to tell us the moment was over and we could sit back down. At any rate, as I stood observing those around me in our collective many moments of silence, I looked to the left and noticed a large hickey on the neck of the girl beside me.

It was a moment to remember. On this Remembrance day, I hope you remember something, too.

The Week That Was

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 02:39:00 +0000

What was that? A mess of days and nights, glasses and bottles, sounds and colours... Unlikely yet completely true. And everyday, it's changed since then, In every way, I've changed since then.. I think I miss the confusion and excitement, but understand that I can not function forever in that state, and, well... essentially, being in that state for too long would turn me into a dry husk, useless and empty.

It's funny how, in hindsight, events build to stack a situation a certain way. It could be within the space of a few years, with chance meetings and sightings and little bits of observational knowledge tucked away for future use. These chance meetings have been preceded by, in fact, years of preparation without any one person realizing it. Random acquaintances leading to random conversations leading to new revelations. These revelations are things I still can't quite decipher in my mind, and indeed, are now making me a little nervous. I fell into something that is now over, at least for the time being, and I'm kind of reeling, wondering what life would've been like if this had happened any earlier, if I had made different decisions, if I had followed a different path.

Instead of living in the week that was, I must now move ahead, although not too far into the future. I should not expect, nor desire, anything more to happen than it already has. That would be dangerous.

Weather Systems

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 14:23:00 +0000

I find it weird how, because I don't have a cell phone, I'm essentially shut out of the lives of people who don't have time/desire to email me or make a phone call to my actual house. I suppose it's a product of our culture, but truthfully I find it makes a lot of my friends completely lazy and prone to excuses- "Oh, but I couldn't call you because you don't have a cell." Who cares? Call me at home. I'm sick of being the only one to bother. It bothers me a lot that our cell phone culture has made it seem acceptable to do what they do- drive while talking, text while driving, talking or texting while being around other people that should technically matter more because they're in the room, physically present. Among other things, of course.

I think that being stagnated, like I feel now, affects me in ways I don't realize. I wish to be away from everything now. I love it here, but lately I have been dreaming of the green hills of Ireland,

forests,

and even cities of dubious proportions.

I think there is also a chance, since my friend just left for a company-paid trip to my homeland (the Wild West), that I am just embittered and envious. It doesn't help either that I'm off school for the week, and yet have not the money nor the plans to go anywhere or do anything other than read textbooks. I should be done lamenting... now.

I accidentally deleted some of my favourite music yesterday on iTunes, so I acquired more, and my latest is Andrew Bird's previous albums- Weather Systems and The Mysterious Production of Eggs. The man is talented. Haven't I always said that the man of my dreams plays the violin? Well, this guy has a degree as a concert violinist. Hot damn.

What's The Storm Called?

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 17:25:00 +0000

It is my perfect sort of day- almost October, raining, cool, leaves turning.. And amazing new music in my ears. I've been on a bender of searching out progressive new music and classic old stuff to match my life as it circumflexes and twists and changes. European music is really hitting the spot now, like Germany's The Notwists and Sweden's Lykke Li, who actually has my perfect life (check out her story on Wikipedia). New York's Tv On The Radio and its new album Dear Science, killer as well, with a really unique sound. Classic is Nick Drake with an emphasis on Pink Moon.. Hard to believe he was around in the late 60s.

More than anything else, this time of year is perfect for getting me into school mode. Saying that, I have to admit that I am getting brain-deep into school this year; and heart-deep into greater world issues that I have the opportunity to think about, thanks to the things I am learning and those who are teaching me. The only constant is change and I would love to be a catalyst for that change. I am seeing new ways of opening up my life and the world around me.

"Fuck your war, cause I'm fat and in love and no bombs are fallin’ on me for sure. But I'm scared to death that I’m livin' a life not worth dying for." -Red Dress, Tv On The Radio

Vote Obama '08.

Rings In My Heart Like A Bell

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 19:31:00 +0000

While walking the early autumn streets of this quiet day, I wandered and pondered the lives of others and my continuing love affair with this city. There are streets to the west of here that are beginning to colour with leaves, tall houses, windows, and mysterious gardens. Sometimes I gaze with shock, as these houses seem to belong somewhere else in another time. I wonder if I'll be able to part with this city, if I really want this autumn to be my last here, and if I'll ever get it all to myself. My life here is still, as always, poignant and nostalgic and endless. I like the quiet stillness of my bedroom at twilight, my kitchen warm with coffee, my busy street and hidden mysteries. I relish the continuation of close friendships, glasses of wine by the water, rainy nights.

What good's a mirror without a face?

Four Seasons in One Day

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 01:57:00 +0000

Upon my return to the cities filled with people and their things, my nose filled with the smells of burning exhaust and endless desperation. Oh, how I yearn now for the clear air of the North, the dark lakes, and that endless time of green and grey.

"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity." -Thoreau

I live for those times, when my eyes were fixed level with the surface of the lake and all around me only silence. At night, with the dock at my back and the Milky Way up above, the loons haunting with their calls. I could see so many stars out there that I felt smaller than a pinpoint and way more lucky. My next yearning is for time away from everything, in that place, with only me and my memories for company. I will make that a reality soon enough.

To The Moons of Elsewhere

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 05:12:00 +0000

It comforts me to know that my eccentricities are not just normal for individualism, they are also expected, and that everyone has them. I think I've tried so hard in my life to be someone that knows, someone that does, so much that I forgot how to be myself. And finally, finally, it's happening, it is really happening. I am learning how to be myself, with no excuses, with no reasons, just because. Because I can.

Another thing I've noticed- I have lived enough years now that I have preferences about everything. I used to be open to a lot, which I still am in a way, but now I know what I like or what I don't. I can make decisions. Perhaps I will always read books in the evening after work and dinner, in a quiet corner chair with a light, listening to music like Sigur Rós loudly and without pause, eating grapes or drinking tea. I have begun to find things that I enjoy, because I enjoy them, and not because I have learned to enjoy them from anyone else.

If you're in the mood for sultry, moody, exquisite sounds- listen to My Brightest Diamond's latest, A Thousand Shark's Teeth. Listen on a big stereo with big speakers, in the evening, the lights low, a glass of pinot noir in hand. Close your eyes.

All The Roads & All The Miles

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 02:21:00 +0000

There is so much to be said about how iconic mountains are. Not ironic or ionic, but iconic (today while looking at blow-dryers, my mom goes "This one's iconic!" and I said "No, mom.. it's ionic.. or maybe.. ironic.." but that particular blow-dryer was probably not iconic. I bought it, maybe it will get iconic later in life). In any case, whenever I first get back to Calgary, I am desperate to get a glimpse of the Rockies. Furthermore, throughout my stay at home (whether it is days, weeks, or months), every opportunity I get, I drink the mountains in. If I can see them, I feel as if mountains are water and I have been dead thirsty for months.

I identified this feeling today while driving out on Stoney Trail, the highest point on the Northwest end of the city. With the sun bright, the sky blue and dazzling, and a summer wind blowing, I would've been satisfied to sit there all day and gaze. I further attempted to quench my thirst with a run to the top of Signal Hill, which lies between downtown and the mountains, at sunset, but got chilly quickly and had to run home again. I think that if I were really rich, I would build a house that was in the most perfect position to view the indescribable vista on the edge of the city and at the highest point. And also away from everyone else.

If there was an apex to reach in one's life, would you only realize it after you'd passed the apex and were on the descent? Or does the apex last as long as you can manage it? Another question I could think of is how do people view infinity, or do they even think about it? In truth, I think we all have the capability to make anything last forever, but we get bored, tired, or complacent before forever even gets to happen. I used to love plane rides, airports, checking in, waiting... But lately, after approximately 47 (so not kidding) plane rides later, the novelty is beginning to wear off. It doesn't help to have strange, odd, weird, or indescribably so, men sitting beside you, ensuring you will not sleep, take a deep breath, blink, nor visit the bathroom on the entire 4-hour flight. At least it wasn't a Greyhound.

Sometimes I feel as if I try too hard in my writing, and if I could just manage to let myself go, I would finally be happy with what comes out of my fingers when I type. I read things like http://chinesebroccoli.org/adventures/ and wish, for once, that what I write was interesting and endlessly readable. I wish I could express how I view the world more accurately with words. So far in life, I am only minimally satisfied. Perhaps it will get easier with time.

Calgary is always my place to be, an ultimate of ultimates. I feel like this arid city has brought me into my own, and for that I will be forever grateful. Sometimes I believe it's how people feel when they think they've found God in heaven on Earth, except I've found myself and apparently myself was in Calgary at the time. I'm so glad I got a chance to catch up.

The Time Has Come

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 22:27:00 +0000

Because I have not had a job since early January and have been paying rent for the past 8 months and also tuition, I have not been able to spend any money. On anything. The list is as follows.

I can't afford:
§ Starbucks
§ meals out
§ clothes
§ movies
§ shampoo
§ haircuts
§ books
§ magazines
§ meat
§ cheese
§ new headphones
§ new running shoes
§ tattoos
§ bus tickets
§ getting my bike fixed
§ cell phone bill
§ plane tickets
§ debts
§ furniture for my new room
§ cable, phone or internet bill
§ concert tickets
§ alcohol or other substances
§ developing pictures
§ yoga class

I CAN afford:
§ fruit, yogurt, cereal, veggies, pasta, milk
§ bulk food provisions (dried fruit, nuts, coffee)
§ small quantities of coffee
§ scones
§ free stuff (often given to me by friends or loved ones)

All in all, you can see that I have been living frugally since January. I have dreams about shopping for things like shampoo or large quantities of books, and cannot wait until I can get more money from the government and live like a queen.

And by queen, I mean being able to afford a nice cut of chicken.

It Wasn't Me on Those Church Steps

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 02:04:00 +0000

It doesn't seem like April. My life has been passing at alarming speeds over the past 2 months, so fast that I fear I won't remember a thing. I am one essay, one quiz, and two exams away from being done my school year, although I am starting again in less than a month. I will be in school for the next year with only a month and a half of rest. Sometimes, all I want is to flee again and begin a new adventure, but I know this is for the best.

It hurts more than anything to realize that at this time last year, I was wrapping up the planning stage of my backpacking trip. There was so much to look forward to, and sometimes I wish I could've done more and spent more time on that trip- perhaps the effect would have lasted me longer. However, I am truly happy about my accomplishments so far this term, as I have been doing better than I ever have in university. One last push-

And it's spring. It's unbelievable how long this winter has been, and I'm not just jaded and bitter about it. It was one of the longest, hardest winters I've ever experienced. If I was an indoor person, it would've been fine, but I'm really not. There is nothing I love more than being outside, walking, running, biking- without slipping all over the place and wearing 2387283 layers of clothing. The snow is finally starting to melt, although I fear it will be a week or two before all the snow is gone, and even more time before the winter dirt has been washed away. This past week, the weather has been getting better and better, and I'm even starting to get some sun. I am anticipating thunderstorms and steamy days. It's so much nicer to feel the breeze on your skin, the sun warm on your face... And it's finally good to be Canadian again.

I am ready to keep building, perpetuating success, and flourishing. Things are coming together slowly. I can't wait for summer. I am excited to go back to Calgary for a few days, not long enough I fear, but I need to finish this chapter of my life first.

Every Greyhound Station

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 01:44:00 +0000

On Friday afternoon, as she was on her way to pick us up to begin our journey, our ride to Florida got hit by another car. Four hours in the police station lead to the destruction of our adventure. We had masterminded the plan when we learned our friend Sheena would be running a marathon in Ft. Lauderdale during Reading Week, and realized it was the perfect opportunity to have an official road trip.

Once we realized the car in which we were supposed to drive 4800km had become crippled, our disappointment almost overtook us as we mourned the loss of our dream. Sand, sun, and surf, once so close, now became impossible. The other terrible thing was that we wouldn't be able to support our friend, who now would have to run 42km on a Sunday morning surrounded by strangers and not one familiar face to greet her at the finish.

Disappointed as we were, DR and I immediately moved to Plan B. We checked Greyhound schedules and decided to take a long, long trip to Indianapolis, where his family resides. At 1:30pm on Saturday afternoon, 24 hours after we were supposed to leave for the beach, we boarded a bus to Toronto that would begin our journey. 23 hours, 4 transfers, and 5 big cities later, we arrived in Indianapolis.

The difference between America and Canada begins the moment you cross the border. DR and I were among the only Caucasian, middle-class people on the trip, signifying that the American Greyhound experience is mostly frequented by those who live at the poverty line. At our 1 hour layover in Buffalo, I got to enjoy one of the most disgusting bathrooms I've seen yet. Cleveland had an almost eerily clean, neat, Americanized feel to it- and I could barely believe DR when he told me our bags would be fine sitting in line for us. By themselves. And no one would steal anything. At 3am.

Columbus was busier, as it was nearing dawn and real people had begun their day, and we had coffee to sustain us. We got a total of 5 fragmented hours of sleep, each hour punctuated by aching knees, tired necks, and every so often, a stop and layover to change buses. In Springfield, Ohio, the strip mall we stopped at to collect more passengers (including a midget cowboy) boasted "Hung Lung Chinese Food" and "New and Used Furniture".

My American experience is now just beginning. We spent today hanging out at DR's parent's house in Indianapolis, where we got to sit in the backyard on the swing in t-shirts and bare feet, soaking up the sun. We went to the grocery store, Kroger's, in which there are so many choices for every product imaginable. There is something limitless about America. There are always choices, always roads to take, always options. Always more, bigger, better, faster.

To the south lies Kentucky, Missouri, Tennessee. I sometimes can't believe how different the world is, even just 12 hours or 900km away. And yet, I somehow found someone who grew up in this different world but is so much like me.

Morning Yearning

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 15:56:00 +0000

Lack of posts: due to extreme life-living and lack of complete inspiration. I spent the rest of 2007 in Calgary, working long hours at the godforsaken mall, with brief interludes of hot vinyasa yoga and long runs along the cold Bow River. Christmas was good this year, full of family and warmth. I haven't been happy at Christmas for a few years now. It was a welcome change. Nothing was extraordinary in December, I was facing the future and looking only toward it. I spent many hours on my own, blissfully and wonderfully (as is only possible when I am in Calgary). New Year's was spent in the company of my friend Miranda, who is leaving for Australia very soon. We were also accompanied by copious amounts of liquor. It was grand.

After working 7 solid weeks in a mall, I flew back to Toronto on January 4th to return to University for the first time in a year and a half. I was very excited and looking forward to learning, drinking, being with my friends, and my melancholy room. So far, things have been just as I wanted them, and better still.

My transition back into student life has felt seamless, as if I'd never left. It is even better now, too, because I have a firm idea of what I want out of my life here, and I am going to achieve it. I feel like I've become fully conscious, and I lived previously as only a fraction of my real self.

I love Peterborough. 30km runs to Lakefield and back, on beautiful grey afternoons before twilight. Walking Milo in the snow with a coffee in hand and music in ear. Waiting for the bus to take me to school, reading his thesis paper in the morning while he's in the shower, listening to José Gonzáles. Making amazing meals out of the few things in the fridge.

This is right now.

The Darkening Sky

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 06:16:00 +0000

I love Calgary in the fall. I've only been back for a week now, but everything I love about here, everything new to love is almost overwhelming in how happy it makes me. It is my own city, something that I've molded to my liking. I've made my own memories here. There are evenings in my backyard, where the sky is a dark blue with the sun almost down, the tall spruce tree whispering as the wind caresses every single needle. It is so quiet in those moments that my entire life is clear to me.

Today, on the bus on the way to work, I looked out the window and noticed the snowy mountains to the west, only visible in that moment because we were traveling on an overpass. Nowhere else would that view be an every day occurrence. Calgary has it's own special meaning to me. It's quiet kitchens with a good book, CBC radio, and a cup of tea. It's wind-blown grey days when every molecule is electric. It is me often alone, but never lonely. I found my soul here. It keeps me grounded and every piece of me is magnified, prepared for constant healing and creativity. Calgary is my balance.

"(59) Tell her how you feel while you stand at the foot of the huge bed and look upon her sleeping body, while cursing yourself for being a ghost whose words cannot be heard by the living."
- One hundred ways to say I love you

Cue The Bibles

noreply@blogger.com (renata) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 23:50:00 +0000

My life during these past few weeks has been: Ridiculous: A Tale of Woe, Success, Passion, and Everything In Between. I have garnered myself two new jobs, one at a wonderful, comfortable boutique hair salon called Catalina, and the other at the prestigious and renowned Peterborough clothing store, Flavour. I suppose with anything good comes anything bad, as well. For example, my new job at Flavour? It's probably one of the hardest jobs to get in downtown Peterborough, which makes it awesome that I got it, but they're also only giving me one shift a week so far. And that, my friends? That will NOT pay my rent.

I've been trying to go for as many runs as possible, lately on a new night-time route on the outskirts of downtown Peterborough, to East City (across the river) and through a beautiful park. It is so freeing. The moon is often out and I can finally see the stars. There is truly nothing like it.

This past week has shown me that there are so many things that I want, and so many things I can have. I just need to find a way to match the two up.