“Still the house built itself a corridor” by Sasha in the kitchen

Sunday February 2, 2020
5 minutes
Marie Howe

I am terrible at putting myself to sleep
scrub the stovetop and wonder how to get the stains off
scrub the bits of sweet potato and squash from the floor
where very small hands fling broccoli and lentils
banana and oatmeal

The quiet is a welcome guest
comes to the door wearing linen and straw
I beg her to stay
beg her to have another cup of peppermint tea
eat another wedge of orange

There was snow on the buds this morning
coating the green like a premonition

Walking the familiar streets
and remembering
reaching backwards
the crippling nostalgia
the heat of a time that’s gone

I would like to tell you all the stories
of my youth and my future
my future youth
I would like to hear your heartbreaks
and your hope as I trace the Milky Way
on your belly
lean my head on your chest

“Space Womb” by Julia at Kits beach

Sunday October 15, 2017
5 minutes

Galaxy inside me oozing star dust and making plans

Staining my finger tips Milky Way

So when I stamp myself on the backs of all the envelopes I leave a trail of meteor magic behind.

My body amazes me every time I think about it. She is busy holding another human in her space womb. Making space for something good to come, preparing the introductions.

Hello world, this is tiny human and she is going to be a force of fresh air and binaural melodies. She’s going to change the planet and I’m going to be her keeper until she’s big enough to see. In this space womb I am weaving a promise through the umbilical cord and into her tiny soul. I play the music, everybody’s favourite song, and she dances inside me till she sleeps.

“Did you know?” by Sasha at the Diamond Centre

Sunday April 23, 2017
5 minutes
From a bus ad

Did you know that there are about one hundred and seventy billion galaxies in our universe? Yup. It’s true. Did you know that the milky way has four hundred billion stars? I KNOW. It’s pretty impossible to even imagine that quantity – … I know that we’re supposed to be doing our long division, but I’m, I’m bored of that and I just started reading a book about – … Okay. Okay. Fine. FINE.

“I know it’s scary but” by Sasha at 49th Parallel on Main St.

Friday October 3, 2014 at 49th Parallel
5 minutes
from a text message from Jess

I’m more interested in
organ keys than deep bass
brown rice than the colour orange
maps than keys
I’m more about
here than later
down than up
breaststroke than butterfly
I’m all the
leather and feathers
diamonds and dust
mountains and quartz crystals
I’m making
magic and lullabies
quinoa and pencil shavings
bullets of beauty and porridge with a kiss
I’m growing
crow feathers and fern patterns
grammatical tongue tickles and boots like moss
cactus of ambition and dreams like the milky way

“I remember” by Sasha at the TUA Artists’ Retreat at the Fringe Creation Lab

Sunday, August 25, 2013
5 minutes
From the writer’s workout warm-up

I remember the moment the first star came onto the sky, like a genius idea, like the “Ding!” of that lightbulb moment. From where I stood, looking up, the trees were like giant pillars in the cathedral of the forest. I remember thinking I heard footsteps and realizing that it was my heart, my blood, the wish of joy holding fast. I watched each star appear – Ding! Ding! Ding! – until there were hundreds, thousands, millions and trillions, until I could’ve paddled the Milky Way like the Spanish River. Only then, when they were all there, when we’d all gathered, did I lie back and let the earth hold me. It was cool and firm, it was strong and wide. I didn’t want to blink. I didn’t want to miss a minute of the show.

“nous allons trouver une solution” by Julia at her desk

Saturday, November 24, 2012
5 minutes
PostSecret(Confessions on life, death, and god)
Frank Warren

If you’re thinking this is it, you’re not wrong, but I also don’t think you’re right.
See. The rainy days are here to make us love the sun, so what’s the sum? Add it up one by one.
You+Me+This+pick the thing. Pick it. Anything. Don’t think, just do. Don’t wait, just pick up the brain that was taking a nap, wake it up, and do it.
How could it be the end? You know what amateur means? I learned that today. I learned it and now I can’t unlearn it. Find out where it comes from. What’s the root word. You don’t speak the language? AMA. Yeah. It’s not that hard. It’s actually easy. Love the thing you do. Love it and do it for that reason. The money? Ha! Wouldn’t it be nice? Or would it? Thousands of dollars in the debt bank. Are they all friends? Those dollars keeping us from being free, from being fine and happy and in love with ourselves? Hope they’re happy. The banks. Keeping a secret from us, trying to keep us where the sun doesn’t shine through the black out blinds.
I’ll spend more money, get the ones that go up and down. Thousands he said earlier. Worth it? Yeah, I said later, it definitely is. Can’t forget the days when it’s bright. Can’t get locked tight in the cave of worry and doubt and panic cause it won’t let you out, it’s manic, and it won’t let you shout, it’s frantic, and it won’t let you. Let’s grab those faces we used to know. Paint them back on the backs of our heads so we can see behind and know it wasn’t nothing then. It won’t be nothing now.

“Every week.” by Sasha at Dark Horse on Queen East

Thursday, November 22, 2012
4:32pm at Dark Horse Queen East
5 minutes
NOW magazine box

I’m painting each star the colours I found in Spain
Reds and blues that forget their mistakes
It takes diligence and patience
It takes my whole arm
So outstretched I can only last for few minute intervals
Before I must rest
And wait
I’m painting each star in the galaxy
I mention it to my coffee barista
He smiles and thinks I’m being
It’s funny
People don’t believe
It’s funny
People don’t trust
When I say
“I’m painting the Milky Way
Tomorrow it will be orange
Look up
Look up
And you’ll see what I mean”
I paint in at dusk and dawn
The magic times
When these stars of mine
Reveal themselves
Open star hearts
Reveal themselves
Unabashed and laughing