“two mirrors facing” by Julia at the studio

Monday June 24, 2019
6:59am
5 minutes
from an old vision board

I stuck a mirror in my makeup bag in case your aunt doesn’t have any mirrors,
or in case I can’t go a few days without looking at myself.
You are cool with this no electricity, no running water thing, and I am cool.
I am very cool about it. I have only thought about how I will dry my hair once, and the answer is AIR.
So that’s cool.
I have never showered in a lake before which I think I’m going to like.
Unless your aunt and her people all go down their naked together?
They’re not going to ask to shower with us are they?
Never mind, don’t answer that. I am very cool.

I also packed some pads. I’m not looking forward to having my period
on a paper plate again, so I’ll just..free-bleed..so all good.
Oh the plate? Yeah that was at a different cottage with running water and stuff
just the pipes froze over and we couldn’t use any of it.
I was bringing my blood on a plate out into the snow and burying it like a squirrel.
I don’t know if squirrels bury things like blood, but if so, we are all cool, all of us.

I wrote a note to our former selves because I’ve heard that living without
wifi for more than 24 hours really changes a person.
I wrote: You love each other, just because you can’t upload a picture of this
doesn’t mean it’s not happening!

“Subway platform walls” by Julia on the 84

Wednesday June 6, 2018
5:35pm
5 minutes
People Revolution
Amani Bin Shinkansen 

I miss a city that knows how to be a city
I think about subway platforms and rats and random conversations with a stranger at the laundromat

I want a city that doesn’t stop living when the snow hits
When the festival is over
I want a city that knows how to make things
Reaches into its pockets and turns lint into lightening, paints the sky magic

I miss a city that celebrates life in the streets with food and music and dancing

I need a city that doesn’t have any height restrictions
If I am going to fling myself off of a building, then let it be a big one

I want the me I am when summer kisses city on the sweaty mouth
I want to kiss it on the mouth

“the holy monkeys and the colourful birds” by Julia on the bus to Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng

Tuesday January 30, 2018
8:39am
5 minutes
You
Anna Margolin

In the morning before we said goodbye to Ann, the tiny blue bird with the long beak that I had seen in my half sleep from the bus reappeared. It cradled a thin branch near the water with its feet and stopped the world from stepping. I tried to tell you that it was a sign. You couldn’t see the blue and told me it was probably some other bird. It was the same one and I knew by the way it sat. Its stillness was a perfect one. I would know it anywhere. I managed to quiet my heart beat long enough to hear. To sense the strength or the message or the absence of expectation. I heard it like the humming of my Nonna, her voice soothing while she used to mend my favourite sleep shorts. I would know that sound anywhere. I would.

“It goes on one at a time” by Julia at Peterborough Inns & Suites

Saturday October 28, 2017
12:36pm
5 minutes
The Low Road
Marge Piercy

It goes on one at a time

Defence Wall Window Lock

And the others are free to sleep

The moon is tired of being yelled at with such little purpose and she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s hiding

Let them protect themselves

Let them ask better questions

The night will not be given out for free anymore

Starting now there will be mandates

scrawled in the canopy of the highest tree and the only way to learn them will be to grow

To reach

To notice

Regular standing upright thinking feeling walks into the hardware store and buys all the essentials for building a dream team of proper readiness

The moon does not spill over

“the wild nature teaches us” by Julia on her living room floor


Friday March 31, 2017
10:25pm
5 minutes
Women Who Run With the Wolves
Clarissa Pinkola Estes


when my insides echo
when the only thing that can fill me is silence
when the forest begs for a closer look
I may know no home like the moss-covered stumps
like the nurse logs championing life
or the quiet stream carrying the whisper of souls reconciled without debt
we are taught so little about where we come from
some stories are passed down but are not built for us
we are reminded that one size does not fit all
even if the tongue doing the telling is loud

“gathering the medicine you need for re-birth.” by Julia at her dining table


Monday, April 4, 2016
9:26am
5 minutes
Mosaic magazine
Spring 2016


I have been free before I was alone
I have been seen before I succumbed to the fear
A little heart shaped pouch holds my dreams in it
A little heart shaped pouch holds my truth in it
I’ve been running wild in my imagination
Picking pretty flowers that I can carry with me all day long
I paint up the ocean I paint in a song
The mountains they’ve been calling so I can always find my way back
I am missing my tribe
The heart shaped hearts that I live for
Mother laughing
Sister holding
Auntie listening
Cousin giving
And to the wild women I left behind
Who I fit inside my sacred space
My medicine is abundant and flowing
I can take a sip from my blessings’ cup
And take steps to find myself again in the river when the deep in me craves
to be surrounded

“the globally inspired” by Sasha on her couch


Sunday January 24, 2016
10:52pm
5 minutes
From the front of a flyer

Full moon brings out the wild
the smell of mushrooms and old leaves
the rabbit ear soft longing for comfort and
change no difference there just the swell of the waves and
the fingers in the sand

If I could I would binge watch you
and your evolution
Every moment a new stop motion picture
slow exposure
A few sun blasts

“it’s been my pleasure” by Julia at her desk


Wednesday, August 12, 2015
1:22pm
5 miutes
From an email

My pleasure your pain
My sorrow your gain
We meet in the middle
Dance on the line
Decide to move in
Then we both explode
Can’t get close to you
You’re a fiery mess
Can’t get close to me
I’m a ticking time bomb
My sorrow my sorrow
My pain my pain
Your sorrow your sorrow
Your pain your pain
Made of the stuff I can’t touch
Too hot
Too dangerous
Get me into trouble
Too wild
Too cancerous
Keep me far from loving

“always more for less!” By Sasha on her couch


Thursday, April 15, 2015
11:14pm
5 minutes
A Food Basics store sign

tug of war over the land again
birch bark and salmon skin ripped from
their bodies
their roots
my feet in rainboots
cracks in the plastic
the water always finds a way in
how can we make peace with injustice?
should we?
can i?
pinecones marking the sacrificial trail
a tuft of rabbit fur
a shark’s tooth

“How is one to know—with strangers?” by Julia at the Dufferin/St. Clair Public Library


Saturday March 14, 2015 at the Dufferin/St. Clair Public Library
3:10pm
5 minutes
The Midwich Cuckoos
John Wyndham


Caught her staring at me from underneath her sunhat. She was trying to catch glimpses of me incognito but I could see her there, plain as day, paying all her attention to me, avoiding everything about herself. In her slight defense, I would be sneaking glances at me too if I were her. From an objective perspective, I was talking about some fascinating things. People always seem to perk up when they hear the words “wild” “unbelievable” “mind-blowing” “freedom” “sensual” and “magic”. I didn’t want to shame her for watching. After all, it was my choice to leave my house and interact with other human beings. You can’t really blame someone for wanting to see how another person lives, talks, eats, breathes, shares, listens, reacts, lies, sinks, falls, achieves, succeeds. I was curious about her too; sad girl hiding behind her over-sized beach hat.

“Original” by Julia at her desk


Saturday, April 13, 2013
3:45am
5 minutes
Mary’s Cracker box

She’s one of a kind
she’s got sex on her mind
she’ll beat and bruise you till you cry
she’s anything but nice
Saw your picture in a magazine and knew what she would do
didn’t wait for very long for her to go and find you
She was hoping you’d be just as submissive as your smile
But she wasn’t taking chances so she’d stalk you for a while

Original those girls who are almost criminal
She wanted to make your life hell
She wanted to bite like an animal

She was on the hunt with a mint leaf in her mouth
knew the fine line between fun and all that stuff she reads about
wanted to drown all her dreams in the tub for a midnight race and a down town rub

“No seeds, no stems, no sticks” by Julia in her bed


Sunday March 3, 2013
1:03am
5 minutes
Understand Rap
William Buckholz


There’s a forest behind my house And I’ve never been inside it. I grew up here and always knew to avoid it. You just didn’t go past a certain point in your yard because you didn’t know what stuff you hadn’t dealt with yet. It all represented something bigger than it was. But that’s before it wasn’t. This is not all a metaphor but a lot of it is. I can see the forrest from my bedroom window and it’s safe to say that it haunted me slowly and daily. I don’t think there are any wild animals or feral people living in it, just sort of my own nightmares of myself and my past and other things equally as poetic or lame, depending on your angle. I think for the most part I’m not bothered by it. But some days when my brain is quiet, I think I can hear more of what goes on inside there.