i look at you.

storms
raging in the dark.
midnight charms the dreamer
and i sink into the thought of you.
i would wait forever.
spinning, twisting, threading a truth
i've long avoided.
you would be so good to me.
what you are is beautiful
how you are is loving.
coming to a haunting conclusion
to be scared is to want
where is my heart?
these days it's lost.
but at least it's lost with you.

♥

dedicated to MB.

write love on your arms day.

rain. ♥

Listening to the rain,

I thought about you

Felt the clouds splitting

and the sun broke through.

porch light flooding my thoughts.

worth waking up for.

because I never do scenery.

admitting defeat.

Today, I had the luxury of being happy. The kind of happy that makes your head spin and your face dissolve into a helpless smile. For fifteen minutes of my day, I lay face to face, inches away from my favorite little half-nephew and just stared. I don't mean in any wierd way, I mean in complete silence we just stared at each other, his little blue eyes digging deeper than anyone else, and I believe I have never felt that kind of happiness. It may seem cliche to those who haven't had the pleasure of understanding the way a child looks at you- in a way that can't be described in words because they don't know how to speak. Such simple happiness when you realize they've learned to tell you how much they love you with their eyes- without even understanding what love means. How they are so light and good because they know nothing of hurt. It's a kind of beautiful you wish you could describe in every way possible. I suppose it's how a mother feels, maybe, times one million. I felt complete in every sense of the world, to be still for fifteen minutes or a year- whatever he wanted, because I had no reason to move. I think this might be the kind of happiness people rave about and we call them crazy. The kind of happiness people keep to themselves because it is just so lovely. And love shows itself in a unique way for us all. You may be reading this right now and either a) be calling me gonzo or b) wondering where the heck this is coming from, but the answer is c) I understand there are kinds of love that hurt, and even happiness that hurts. But if you can take something like that from it, perhaps you should reconsider that it's worth it. Now this is a mouthful coming from a 17 year old who has hardly been off the front porch of what the world has to offer, but I'm pretty sure I'd rather it this way. So consider something today- whoever is reading this- can you imagine a happiness this complete? If you can, find it. Today. Tommorow. Whatever you like.
But find it.

love you, little man.

cape breton only.

soul reasons.

bridge to somewhere.

darlin' i wish you well, on your way to the wishing well.

may you dream you are dreaming, in a warm soft bed

and may the voices inside that fill you with dread

make the sound of a thousand angels instead

tonight where you might be laying your head tonight.

- patty griffin.

i've had some time to think about you, on the long ride home.

blurbing.

today.. i'd like to talk about karma. what is karma? and who believes in it?
ME. i believe in it.
my karma varies depending on the day, so i tend to avoid black cats/undersides of ladders like the plague, cause i like to keep my luck in check too.
today.. today is just "one of those days". please allow me to explain.

I woke up this morning feeling slightly anxious (due to the fact that I am drawing) and I didn't do my routine I-love-life-happy-dance in the morning. I do actually dance every morning with my Ipod on the way to the kitchen. It could only go downhill from here.
Whilst pouring myself a bowl of cheerios, I realized there was no milk because the milk I was looking for was currently spilling all over my lovely clean counter. (Okay, it seemed like a lot)
So brushing it aside, I continued my morning routine, of jumping in the shower, determined not to let this become a problem. Singing happily and soaping up my locks, an unfortunate spray of water caused ALOT of shampoo to slide into my eye. In slow motion. I didn't even have the reflexes to close it. Therefore, I spent the next five minutes cursing and sticking my eye under a shower head.. which hurt probably just as much as the shampoo.
I have this favorite pair of jeans (you know where this is going). They have been well-worn, well-worth the price. They are a faded blue with rips and the softest denim imaginable, and this morning I happened to throw them on BEFORE putting on a bit of makeup (big no no). While squeezing my tube of liquid green eyeshadow, an air bubble magically appeared but in my hindsight, I didn't think to just pick another color and promptly squeezed harder. Lets say the favorite jeans have run their course. *tear*
So upon arriving at school .. after missing the bus. yep.. I happened to get winded during gym class bad enough that I spent an hour wandering around the gym sounding like I was having a mild asthma attack.
As if this wasn't bad enough, I dislike cellphones, but decided to charge mine figuring three days of it being dead was enough. First, I spent 10 minutes searching for the charger that happened to be already plugged in. Then the next 10 yelling at the immobile object before realizing I hadn't fully plugged it into the celly itself. Then promptly left for school while the cell phone stayed home.

So why, you ask? I dare not push my karma/luck but I strongly believe this string of events derived itself from a rather unfortunate incident last night when I basically stated my mother was wrong. Basically, you do not EVER challenge the wisdom of "the mother". That is my lesson, and karma, I have learned it well. In the meantime, I suggest you take the piece of advice from me, and hide your favorite pair of jeans if you don't.

Love love love,
the bad karma-d

Hails.

i have to actually feel something.

So, blog followers, I am in what you could say is a "rut" (rut - an uncomfortable situation in which there is no easy way out).
I have to draw. I have to draw for my life. And that may sound melodramatic and a very 17-year-old thing to say, but in truth my next few years of life depends on 20 pages of my messy, scrawly drawings. It's so bizzare that even the logic of the situation seems absurd. Things I would have complained about before? I'm not complaining anymore- they seem easy.
Because you see, art is the one thing that requires every single bit of emotion you can muster up. It is freeing and it is beautiful and it is expressive for all those reasons. When I get a camera in my hand, the emotion just happens, and then its hard to pry the camera away. When I get a pencil or peice of charcol in my hands, it feels like a foreign object and I have to resist the urge to hurl it at the wall. Catch what I'm throwing?
But I'm trying. Because I am a dedicated artist-e wannabe, I am trying. Hopefully if they don't see all my passion for art in a messy black scrawl, well maybe they will see hope, and defiance, and the fact that I am trying. I am really trying. Therefore, I will share with you pictures of my "drawings" when I am done, because you guys are my backbone. The triangle to my toblerone. The marshmellows to my hot chocolate.
Love, love.. love love love love. ♥

The Aspiring Van Goghette.

the sight.

There is a smell, a sight, and a sound when winter is on it's way. Waking up in the morning to a dusting of frost over all life, the cool, crisp smell of the world freezing, and the sound of silence.

i've got a handle on this.

it's a cape breton thing.

..and he's pretty much awesome. the end. ♥

.. he also has beautiful eyes..

.. he does cool tricks..

He has this cool trick where you put your hand above his pretty green eyes and he jumps up, wraps his paws around your hand gently and takes the treat from your fingers.

.. he enjoys creeping.

meet comet, the cat.

trust me, trust nobody.

Trust. We've all had it, earned it, and lost it. It is essential and important and everything in between love and losing. Loving and trusting can be just as hard because it takes one or the other and both. Losing trust can be like sitting at the bottom of the darkest well with no light. Until that one person comes along who makes you realize you didn't fall to the bottom, you let yourself be there. You aren't alone, you are right there with them.
And these people.. well they are even more essential than trust. And even more important to keep. ♥

i've struggled too.

i have this thing.. with elephants.

the "almost home" marker.

journal making process.

leave the lights on to guide me home.

i love your light.

i rely on your steady hands.

So today I woke up, thinking about consistency. And no, I don't meant consistency of liquids or solids or anything like that, I mean consistency in life. And every morning, I wake up to this kitchen, and every morning the light filters in through the window differently, but I wake up and unthinkingly wander down there. You could say it's my moment- my own moment. I know my parents are safely asleep upstairs and I know the world is quiet for a moment inside this tiny, insignificant space in this big universe. I sit at that table with a glass of juice or whatever I drink that morning and absorbe the stillness. It's just one moment- but it feels so much bigger. Maybe that's all we ever really need.

miss haley.

There was a time, not far in the past but not remembered clearly in the present, when a timid girl began her ninth year in school (and first in highschool). The hustle and bustle of the hallways, the stunning beauty and seeming importance of people, the plans and dreams being made lay heavy in the air and overwhelmed her. The first day was unforgettable. She was one of many to be overlooked, one of many that even if she became noticed, it was often and glance and nothing more. Althought there were familiar faces, they were those of old classmates who's fears and uncertainties matched her own. Walking into one anticipated class she was met with a face she hadn't forgotten, who's confidence and assured manners settled her uneasiness at once. It quickly became her favorite subject, as the easy atmosphere became a sanctuary to relax and allow her hands to flow across a blank sheet and fill it almost as quickly as it had been placed in front of her.

I am an honest believer in two things. I believe in people being there at just the right time. I believe one of the greatest accomplishments in life is being able to say "I influenced someone for the better. Someone thanked me for making their life a little easier and their days a little brighter". I am also this girl. Through three years of this class, these hallways and the same people, different hardships and new friendships, I grew into someone who I can say I am happy with. I learned that your skin is something you can adjust to feel more comfortable on you, despite what people say. There were the sore losers, the people who couldn't stand your happiness being a level above their own, and finally, those who stuck by me.

The faces that remain in my mind in the last year are of those who looked at me and I seen hope. My dreams were never discouraged, my happiness never dimmed, in fact, it only grew. I now sucessfully can say I am a happy person. I have left a trail where I've walked, weaved my way in and out of peoples lives, but never have regretted anything. There are people still remaining who would do anything to feed off my bad moods or unhappiness, but they are the people I won't remember.

These people I speak of, are naturally my beautiful, loving parents. My family, who I fall back on and who fall back on me, because I've learned blood truly is thicker than water. My select few close friends, who are permanently by me for good and for bad, even if I had to weed through several bad friends to find them. A teacher who called me "MacPhee" and let me shine brighter than I thought I ever could.. or was brave enough to try. And lastly, a teacher, who gave me the nickname "Miss Haley" and allowed me to show album after album of pictures and turn in many shaky papers as I first started my ideal career (Photo Journalism).The final push I needed came with the words "You can do whatever you want.". For that I thank you a million times over.

It's the least I can do.

it's not the picture. it's not the place. it's the time.

life grows in the strangest places.

can you forgive me?

not abandoned. just lost.

curious?

crack the shutters.

ghost of a hand.

the weakerthans

fray love.

desperation.