Cloud pillow

Bunny and piggy were the best of friends, they were the type of friends that could have the best of times just laying there in a meadow full of wild flowers gazing up at the puffy clouds in the sky without saying a word.

Of course the little white bunny always layed under a tree as she didn't like tanning while piggy lay there beside her snoring lightly, as sleeping was his favourite past time. 

There were days  that passed like minutes as they were absorbed in conversation, while others were spent in the absolute comfort of each other's silence.

Time had no beginning and no end. Those were the worry free  days of endless sunshine.

Somehow as they got older and as time passed, they began to wake up from the magical place that that was solely theirs, a place where time sped up, slowed down at their will but all the while standing still, independent of the real world. They began catching fleeting glimpses of the finish line, the inevitable ending to the movie. This pressure left a bitter taste that transformed into bitter words towards each other. 

"Why are we here if this is not the way life allows us to be?"  "What's the point of conintuing in this imperfect state if the end is inevitable.? Why not end it now rather than waiting for the slow painful drain of all the color in this world?"

The final blow

"I wish your fur strivels up and turns gross, gray and dirty, that'll teach you to be so vain!"

"I wish you'd never be able to enjoy your pastime of sleeping, after all, what kind of pointless past time is that?"

They parted ways

That night piggy tossed and turned and could not get a wink of sleep. That night and many nights to follow.

The next morning bunny awoke and started about her daily routine when she noticed a patch of tangled greasy dirty hair that won't seem to wash away refusing to be fluffed or styled. Each day, that ailment spread until she could no longer recognise herself in the mirror.

What ate at her the most was not the hair but the biggest emptiness was the hole her friend had left.

One day she climbed the small hill they used to climb together. When she got to the top she looked up at the clouds that they both used to gaze at. 

The clouds floated unusually low. She reached out and touched them. They were perfect fluffy puffs of white. Everything those days reminded her of piggy and the regret she felt about her harsh words towards the one she cared for the most. If only she could take them back. She thought of piggy and wondered how he was sleeping and recalled his gentle comforting snores on those endless summer days. 

She had an idea. 

She gently plucked a fluffy cloud from the sky. 

Then another.

Then another.

Until she could fit no more into her arms.

She stumbled home to her sewing machine and got to work.

At last her work was completed. A big fluffy pillow.

She timidly knocked on piggys door. The door opened a crack. She could hardly recognise her old friend as he dragged his feet to the door displaying dark circles under his eyes. She felt a pain in her chest seeing him like this. She shoved the pillow to him and ran home to cry alone in her bed, knowing she'd caused him all this torment.

Piggy stood there with the most amazingly fluffy pillow in his hand, astonished at how ragged bunny looked and all he could think about where his terrible last words to her. 

That night he sank into the cloud pillow expecting another tortured night, but as soon as his head touched down, he dived into a restful dream. He was on top of their hill, the sky was so crisp and blue. The clouds were so low he stretched his hand to touch them. They where cool and refreshing. He thought of bunny and how worn out she looked and thought, how nice it would be to bath in these fluffy clouds.

The next morning he awoke, energized and rested.he jumped up and headed towards the hill. His huffed and puffed. While he wanted to take a break, the thought of bunny kept going. 

That evening he revisited bunny, demanded that he draw a bath for her. Surprised by this demand and his pushiness bunny let him get to work, just being glad she had him back in her life. She dipped herself into the cloud bath and scrubbed. Wherever the clouds touched, her hair was restored to its fluffy whiteness. 

That evening they talked, picking up right where they left off. And when they fell quiet, they just enjoyed the glow of each other's company.

it's been you

I have met you many times, 

Well, parts of you here and there around the world and through the ages

I have been following this bread crumb trail, collecting each part of you along the way. 

Your intense attention to detail captured me in Beijing

The allure of your rebelliousness beckoned me in Vancouver

Your gaze drew me in on a crowded dance floor in Montreal

Your calm demeanor was a safe harbor as I set out to navigate the cold concrete jungles of Toronto

Your warmth helped me keep my stride through crowded Singapore streets

Your vibrance made the cold blandness of Calgary bearable

I feel the lingering touch of your hand in my back as we brace the torrential downpours in The Hague

I feel your fingers interlocked with mine as we run through the chaotic bazaars of marakesh

I feel the curve of your body as we lie tucked away in one of the many stacked pastel houses of the cliffs of the Mediterranean in cinq terre

I feel your cloud like kisses in the alleyways of New York the city lights sparkle in the distance

Even when you are not with me, you have always been with me and I imagine you into the greatest scenes of my life, and perhaps sometimes in the haziness of alcohol and sleep deprivation, I dare to imagine you into the moments and lifetimes to come.

Every moment, real and imagined has led me to you.It's been you

suitcase

Her suit case was heavy, bursting at the seams with secrets that she had packed away from the world. The handle creaked under the strain of the burden as she dragged it up the short flight of carpeted steps, making dull thuds as it made contact with each surface.

In an instant, the handle gave away. The suit case tumbled down the stairs crashing to the bottom. The contents gushed out seeping into the floor.

Imaginary Pianist

His hands were gentle, with long slender fingers and rounded tips. Perfectly shaped nails that are clean and smooth. They are hands that give you the unbearable urge to hold, to want to nestle your cheeks against. As they caress a lose strand of your hair, they brush away all your fears and worries and make your believe that even the most dreary and dark days can be beautiful.

The music starts, and like a cloak, it drapes over you, distancing you from the weight of reality. The fingers dance across the keys, sometimes spreading out like the delicate petals of a blossoming lotus and at other times flying sporadically with a fervor of someone grasping to the fading ribbons of unrequited love.

The music is intertwined with emotion, tugging at one's heart strings with it's ups and downs.

The music ends, but the magic lingers and reality settles in slowly like a feather descending from the sky.

Wishes

1. A CD full of my friends' laughter

2. A friend to talk to in every time zone 

3. For Canada to agree to accept Chinese tourists so that my family can come visit me

The edge of illustion

A couple weeks ago I went camping in a place that was as breath taking as a fictitious fantasy painting. It was on a small plateau of the top of a snowy mountain. After four and a half hours of hiking, we reached the summit. We were engulfed in an silence absent of any sounds of the living. So silent that we could hear whispers in the wind. The ground was covered with a thick layer of moss so that is felt like the finest carpet as it cussioned our step. Pools of crystal clear lake were scattered here and there, as it was almost sunset, these pool reflected brilliant shades of red, pink, orange and gold. Weatherworn ever green trees were here and there, as straight as needles pointing towards the sky. Patches of white snow decorated to ground. ... snowy peaks rose in the distance in unevent layers. As we walked further, the plateau gave away to a patch of stone, then making a sudden drop, revealed a deep canyon with a river winding like a snake at the bottom. The emornity of nature make you feel like and ant and the majestic view made you unconsciously whisper in conversation. It it there amoung whisps of mist, on the thick moss, as the edge of the canyon, we set up camp and a fire, overlooking the endless mountains.

When night time came, the sky was so bright with stars and misty streaks of the milky way and the moon that one had to squint when looking up. Never had I seen such brilliantly lit sky.

Here are some pictures that we took the next day, unfortunatly the colours and the limited frames of the photos don't do it justice. You have to experience it yourself. The place is called crest mountain.

loved

This is dedicated to all those people who loved me as lovers, friends, siblings and family... that I have lost. Whether we are still talking or out of touch, whether we still love each other, I still think of our past, treasuring it like a spot of sunshine on a dark day. It's too easy to forget how we were because of the current, uncontrollable factors that have torn us away from each other. Let's try to remember....

"stray cow"

The colour of your name describes the warmth you make those around you feel. We had our extended sleepover, a pretend game of house... soon the warmth froze into winter and divided we were by mist snow and ice. Just out out reach you are till today, I see trace of your through mutual aquaintances, you always out of my grasp.


" The unknown sender"

We could have been the best of friends, with all our common interests- languages, photography, traveling and business. I guess we took a wrong turn for which I could not continue down, so I went back to the start, but you weren't there to follow.

"Fried bananas that are really plantains"

We met randomly upon false assumptions of association, our friendship extented across the world, only to break once we return to the origin. Though hours away physically, oceans we are in spirit.

... I hope that one day you will stumble upon this entry and smile, as I have smiled remembering these events and maybe, maybe decide to reach out to me as I have been trying to reach you so that we may once again live under the same sunshine.

things I find amusing

Here are some things that I can't stop laughing about:

Bio fuel
the "great wall of amercia"
Courtenay City centre
Vancouver "fashion"
Guys driving around and around the block to show off their cars (and they are usually driving civics)