Alternative Grounds

I've discovered a place of peace.
Get up.
Stick my head under the tap.
Burn some Uncle Ted's Tasty Poridge.
Listen to news about the Kremlin.
Walk back and forth between the back door, my bedroom, the back door, my bedroom.
Gather up courage to leave the house.
Make my way past the train tracks.
Past the wolf graffiti.
Past the smiling school bus driver.
Get angry with the wind for blowing my head inside out.
Enter favorite coffee shop.
Verb+noun= poetry
Peace.
and Hope.
and a refreshing laugh-er sitting close by.
and pear-ginger juice to be spilled all over my books.
and opportunities for friendship.
One taken.
One feared.
Semi-satisfied smile and exit.
Give those "Hidden Cameras" a second chance.
Smile at the "DrinkWater Hardware" Store.
Wave at the exercisers in the window front.
Get on with life.
as if never inspired or anxious about the future.
thoughts and thoughts and thoughts.
sane and insane.
fall asleep to images of cirque de soliel dancers performing the shape of a bunk bed.
get tossed around by giant waves. crash onto a rocky shore.
dream and dream and dream. and recall. and recite.
and imagination begins in an ending.

the streets of toronto

(This photo: he was walking along University
Ave...singing loudly to himself...his shirt is
decorated with roosters and soccer balls)

Thoughts from my day:
I've been struggling with the concept of 'home' lately. Finding peace and happiness in a city, or house, or community...or any sort of space...is hard to find for me lately.




I feel selfish and restless somedays...and on others Im content and comfortable with this time and place in my life. Im finding inspiring people, friendly people, beige people, awkward people, people who hum mozart on the street, people who want to join the circus, people in motorcycle gangs, drunk people, people who are fulfilling their dreams and just 'doing' (a concept i find hard to implement into my life).


I find myself at York looking at all the potential friends and aquaintences...looking around Bloor Street at all the faces of refugees, fashion gurus, homeless... looking around Symington Ave at the old Portugese women sweeping their driveways, the Persian women watering their gardens, and the Italian men pruning their small backyard vineyards (There is a river of grape juice flowing in my back alley way...remnants from wine making?).


There are so many STORIES and EXPERIENCES and PEOPLE. ---im itching for communion with HUMANITY. I dont really know what this means..but I do know that I want to share my life and my stories. I want to be apart of a universal humanity swap. Does this exist? I hope Im not crazy.


(Comment on the photos: they are randomly placed...interesting things I have seen over the last few weeks)

Painting the Roses Red

As a gift to one of our host families, Natalie and I decided to paint a mural on one of their bedroom walls.

Here is little Diana helping Natalie speed up the process... some photos:

After we painted the walls blue we took advantage of the wonderful backdrop:

Resulting in a ridiculous night of writing thought bubbles on the wall (what else better to do on a friday night?)

Natalie: "How can I be a freespirit today?"

John: "Give me a beso"

Jenna: "MOof"

Nick: setting fire to "yesteryear"

Oh how I love these people.

Guatemalan Glory: A Photo Update on my Travels in Guatemala

A Contemplative Diana (Daughter of my host family)

Double chinned Jennifer Soria (the daughter of my host family) and myself: grins upon arrival. I lived with this family (a single mom and her two daughters) two years ago. Its lovely to be tickeled by these girls again.

A Holiday Face: This book has captured me...Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels...please read it.

Natalie and I: Our view of three mountains and one errupting volcano...we woke to puffs of smoke every morning.

Entrance to our Lodgings for the Weekend...Tree House: a little cabin located in a giant tree overlooking the above view. Frig. I didnt want to leave. Sweet solace.

Back to Real Life: The Market...crabs on a fence...the market is full of wonderful pictures.

Tomato Angles

Chili Piquante

Everything is for sale: rusty tools, eight tracks, and used construction helmets. (Blade??!!)

Guatemalan Cowboys gather to sell their animals in Chimaltenango.

Contrasts: 2d idealism vs 3d reality

She's in there...and she's under lock and key. I suppose this was a mistranslation.

Foosball in Guatemala?

....More to come...