“Like the blueprint of a lake.” by Julia at her desk

Monday April 15, 2019
6:36am
5 minutes
Weatherman
Norman MacKenzie

It’s been a game studying you
wondering where your true north is
and if you’re following it.
I like knowing that somewhere out there
you hold a map of you the size of your history
and on it is marked all the places
you’ve walked instead of taking the car
I know where your feet have been but
where was your heart? There are stretches
of cartography dipped in blue and I know
that’s when you found the water, believed
yourself lake, swam in the light.
When travelling you don’t bring a camera with
you when you leave. You don’t have any need to prove
you saw anything or to show the world how
you’ve seen it. You take it in, mix it around with
whatever you already have in there (blood, life, decisions)
and you tell yourself what you have seen.
and you remember it better that way.
I don’t often write about you in the positive
because sometimes I think it would be less
graceful of me to prove how I see you to
the rest of the world. The only one who
knows how good you are to me is me. And you.
You know because you designed it.
And I follow you because you have built
such a beautiful blueprint

“seemed to love us anyway” by Sasha on her couch

Friday, March 16, 2018
7:23am
5 minutes
Beauty: 1976
Ruth L. Shwartz

I have lots of keys to lots of very important places and for once in my life I feel like I’m worth something, Rudy! Can you understand that?! I spent forty-six years doing everything for everybody and then you just, I mean, I just woke up one morning and thought, “That’s IT. I’m DONE.” I’ve got keys to the storage locker, and Mom’s place, and Wendy’s cottage and the Dawson’s whose dogs I walk when they go out of town to visit their kids in Sherbrook! I’ve probably got even more keys than that! It’s a lot of keys! I’ve earned them! I’ve earned the trust to have them! RUDY!

“I wish to offer him no honour” by Julia on her bed


Thursday, August 20, 2015
11:19pm
5 minutes
from a tweet by the Globe and Mail

I have been wondering if I will ever leave this place. It does not feel like home (never did), and it is starting to weigh heavy on my heart. It sounds like an easy decision but it is not. Nothing is an easy decision for me. I am used to making bad decisions. Maybe staying here this long is one of them. Maybe I am trying to justify something. I think it is hard because I do not know what I want instead. I do not know where is better than here. So I must stay here until I know where there is. Must I not? It does not sound very adventurous of me (well aware of that), but does it not make sense?
I cannot decide this with the help of anyone else. I am torn in two but I am the only one who can mend the halves and make them whole. I am learning here. It sounds as if I am not but I am.

“Let’s make a list” by Sasha on the B-line


Friday February 13, 2015
5:36pm
5 minutes
Overheard at Great Dane Coffee

Let’s make a list of the places where you live in me
Equal parts below and above the bellybutton
Where you often stick your pinky finger
Amazed at it’s depth
When I put my nose in yours
It smells like summer
A small remembrance of yesterday’s sweater
I collect it
A pillow for a spider
The good luck kind

In the space where we feel
Below the sternum
The solar plexus
That fragile brave hollowness
You live there
Snuggled like a puppy
Curled around yourself

“I’m from a lot of places” by Julia at her desk


Friday November 8, 2013
11:30pm
5 minutes
overheard from a customer at Sambuca Grill

I’ve been to the moon and back! The moon and BACK! I’ve settled for a million white lies painting my bedroom a colour I could stand looking at. I’ve been to the MOON. I’ve dreamed in shapes and numbers and it made sense to me. I’ve found my way through your brain while you’re sleeping and mumbling something about pink hot pants. I went there. I went there and I came back, and every time I come back to whatever back is, it’s different. So I’ve been to a lot of places. I’m from a lot of places, really. I’ve been to the sun and back! The SUN! THE SUN! I’ve filled my belly with worry and words and perfectly dewed grass blades in a park, in a backyard, in a green house. I’ve let my mind wander to find the key to the secret dwellings of the universe. I wouldn’t have gone by myself. I’ve taken good trips and bad trips and told everyone around me that I was going to stay there. They wouldn’t understand but they’d think it was a good idea if I seemed so hell-bent on it. I’ve been to hell and back, to heaven on earth, and heaven in heaven, which though similar, are very different things. I’ve been to here and there, and I’m from everywhere. From the moon, from the sun.