“a little bit of this” by Julia on the overground


Friday January 2, 2015
6:34pm
5 minutes
from a St. Germaine song

A little bit of this reflective thing going on. Thinking about my year and how I’m a bigger person in every sense of the word now. A little bit of this inward gazing thing happening. Wondering about the me I was last year and how I would have written a list of resolutions and lists and things to myself so I would remember everything. Now I don’t tell myself what I’ve done, I apply it. I practise what I’ve learned by living in my real life and being true to myself moment by moment. A little bit of this active curiosity thing going on. Pressing myself and all my experiences into each page of every notebook I fill, like a soft flower being realized forever by its imprint. I have blossomed and discovered and challenged and overcome. It was what I had been waiting for my entire life.

“get a rise outta you!” by Sasha in her garden


Tuesday July 1, 2014
9:12pm
5 minutes
from the Phoenix Rising espresso bag

Bella: You know what, Heather? You need a reality check. Faster than this fucking heat wave. You’re forgetting that floral wasn’t what it was this year, last year… Last year we could barely move that whole wall! No one fucking wanted it! And now –
Heather: I know everything you’re saying! You’re treating me like I’m an idiot!
Bella: I’m simply trying to explain to you that –
Heather: You’re trying to get a rise out of me.
Bella: I am. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just… We are being forced to expand here and if we don’t go for it we’re going to regret it. For sure. We’re going to –
Heather: We are going for it. We just have different ideas of what that looks like!
Bella: We can’t have different ideas! We’re fucking partners!
Heather: Bella. You need to calm down. We need to talk about this like adults.
Bella: Do you even care?
Heather: What?
Bella: Do you even care about what happens here?
Heather: What are you talking about?
Bella: Ever since you got knocked up you really seem to have your head in the clouds. Or, your womb.

“glimpse of you” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Wednesday, January 1, 2014
4:03pm
5 minutes
The New School for Drama brochure

I caught a glimpse of you
Between this year and last
Between dusk and dawn
Between the second hand and next number
You still had lips that seemed honey brushed
Cheeks dotted with wind kisses
You still had bad teeth from a hockey accident
Left without repair
As you are
The morning after
The night before
I caught a glimpse of you
Getting off the streetcar
My breath caught in my mouth like a truffle
It stopped me from calling your name