Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Two headed boy

Coronita and steaks with my parents in fairmont, speedboat in invemere on the lake with skish's dad, midnight swimming during a full moon in natural hot spring pool with a waterfall in the middle of a forest, long drives, dubstep through the cocaholla (spelt wrong..), chillawack patio dinner, mik!!!, wreck beach, being high on mushrooms standing in the ocean on the most beautiful day, carribean dinner, mo-jita!, crazy people, old friends, climbing hills - the past three days. so perfect.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Today was too perfect outside, and despite my lack of an actual plan for the day, it was gooooooood. Woke up late, packed for Vancouver, went to the drum and ended up having lunch with Sarah and kelsie and klay and a bunch of others. I like those two girls. After that I went to republik to get my cheque and bike, got my bike but had to go meet rich at 510 to get my cheque.. Then Yarko and I just ended up going to the dog park and then coffee. Now I'm at work... My last day of work until august! Fairmont tomorrow then Vancouver the next day then Victoria on the 1st... How perfect? Too perfect.
Also quick and Bowie and glencoe and a couple other Toronto lovelies were in town last night and it was just sooo good to see them and party with them. Love those boys and so stoked to hang in van with them and strelow. Loooove my friends and summer.

MIK ON SUNDAY!!! Toooo stoked to see my girl.
i've alllllways been a fan of the sort of art neuvo style... but lately i've just been loving it more and more. ugh so great.


there are no great thinkers of our time - no great artists or composers or writers. the time of worldly ideas and creativity is dying fast. all we have left now is hot-headed politicians and commercialized entertainment. consumerism has overtaken the very essence of human existence. even what's left only moves on with any amount of force because there's money and power behind it - driving it - feeding the egos and wallets of those immersed enough to be capable of creating. there are no cures for this disease - society has made sure of that long ago. we are a world of filthy, selfish soldiers dying to fight on a vast, terrible plane.
it's up to those rare individuals that feed on even the idea of generating something real, something to hold on to, something to get into, something to raise above the rest of this shit - it's up to them to keep the free spirit alive. the spirit of integrity and individualism and expresssion. there is only but a sliver of hope for this race, for all these people.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

In my dream world I would have elf ears and everyone would talk in the likes of 'the crying of lot 49' by Thomas Pynchon, and therefore I could spend conervsations in the midst of something more than this every day babble. I'd also own my own jet so I could get away/get to. And I'd live in ithlien forest. And own a lot of bikes. And I'd be able to make movies just by thinking. Film projecter from my mind! So basically a bunch of unrealted things that I think about.. Too much. Also I'd be a spy... Or secretly in the mob...
"oedipa, perverse, had stood in front of the painting and cried. no one had noticed: she wore dark green bubble shades. for a moment she'd wondered if the seal aroun her sockets were tight enough to allow the tears simply to go on and fill up the entire lens space and never dry. she could carry the sadness of the moment with her that way forever, see the world refracted through those tears, those specific tears, as if indices as yet unfounded varied in important ways from cry to cry."

Sunday, July 18, 2010


we consume ourselves in the beloved woman, we consume ourselves in the idea we believe, we burn in the landscape we are moved by

vancouver on saturday with jenny, simoner and skish... i am really, really, really excited to escape calgary for a bit.
no second job means i sit around and smoke weed and accomplish nothing most days. oh well. i hate it i'll get out of it.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

poison ideas

'We are the frost of these lives that go untouched and escape unscathed from claws of fate. The outcome of our worries blunder the most disaterous traits only to cease all suffering of a most certain death. All I remember from those nights are corriders 5 floors down lined with locked doors and paisley carpet and buzzing flourescent lights living above my thoughts. Timed exposure to the decks above and phantom fingers traced your brows and lips and hands. Polka dot dress brushing my thighs and your dark hair and lanky arms, they told us, how'd you learn to look so good side by side like that? We don't know we've never practiced infact we only met three days ago and clearly cannot escape. If you look out any window all you'll see is dark ocean and an even darker horizon. Maybe if you're
lucky you'll see
in the dis
tance. Nobody really cared about that anyway anymore, everyone was preoccupied with who are parents were or if we were going to take advanced calculus in the fall or if we had any plans together for the future. It was only our dreams that tied us together. Out secrets turned our short term fling into a life long ordeal. I will live by you and die by you and I won't rest until I see this through. Our lies were too easy and our deciet too merciful. Our secrets lived perfectly synched between us in such ways that even a ship of strangers hated our lust and minds and visions and noise and betrayal. Get down on your knees and pray and I never expect your answers nowadays. Said it before, I'm gunna say it again. If we live inside our own minds, in our own seperate worlds that we've created only for ourselves - we have every chance of flourishing and that many more tries at perishing. The pews of our minds are not strong enough at first to withstand what we are capable
of, we need not to progress to a point of either failure or misery, we need only our own concious will to drive us in the courses of fate.
And I watched him struggle in his sleep and the constant bow and bend of my anguish diminished before me. I will distinguish every note of clarity just to keep you to myself. I will betray my country in order to keep us together.
I refuse to die for my sins but you're free to avenge them. I will
not find solace in tolerance, I will push as far as your wasted body can go. I will watch you walk off the edge of our worlds and will only apologize when it feels okay to
do so.'

Saturday, July 10, 2010


'you're an IDIOT man, an IDIOT. if i could take you out of yourself and slap you around you just might get it! get ittttt! the sun was striking and shining at us across from the mildew of the city. the sun was stripping our only hopes in hopes! of getting something out of the morning. you wake up to do things, well i wake up to look. you go to sleep alone and i'd rather nothing else. i will scratch your ribs just enough to make you notice and then i will cut you up until you're weeping in my arms. run some coins all through my fingers and cross out these bills to stain my eyyyyyyyyeeees! i forgot the colour of your skin and all i remember is your blue veins running under the surface of your scars. armoured cats and kitchen floors and hey did you hate May as much as you said you always do? you would. was this year any different? did i even make an impact on your intact view of these people? i got thrown thrown thrown away just like the trash! i see the same places from day to day just like you move the same parts to get her off. my slang will only collide with your tongues of disparity. clarity. familiarity. hey MARCH yourself down that winding road and banish yourself into the ocean! your progress will only return to you in favours of the wicked! your hard work will only turn around to oppress you! he yelled and yelled and yelled and yelled until i couldn't help but hate him that much more. i couldn't HELP you unless i wanted to harm you. cat eyes your slits of vision only serve as a guide to the greatest depression of all of these years. knock on the door i will answer only to the heavens. knock on my DOOR and i will search into the night.'

fuck mars, i'm going HOME

Paul Alexander Thonrton

Christian Petersen - produced for I Want You magazine

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


sled island nearly killed me, in the best way possible. i'm still confused about the fact that durell and kevin are not in my apartment... or somewhere near my apartment... or in calgary at all. i didn't get to see too many shows since i worked every night of the festival, but at work i got to hear and see some pretty rad bands. melvins, big buisness, nomeansno, !!!, deerhoof, women, nu sensae, no age the gza to name a few... wish i could have caught dinosaur jr and fucked up.. but that's okay. good nights, late nights, amazing friends... looove.
stampede starts on friday... good god help me. living a block away from victoria park is going to kick my ass. kelly will be here within a couple weeks, and then we go to vancouver and victoria at the end of july. what could even be better! i'm no longer an employee at deville as of three weeks from now... so i need another second job. anyone want to hook me up? that'd be cool.
i miss miiiikkhhaaaliaaaaa so much... i am so so happy i get to see her in a matter of weeks. probably going to cry my eyes out when i see her but that's what's to be expected! haha.

photos from the past bit...