Did you really think I was only going to post once? Sillies.
More of the glorious blooms captured before they faded.
A Toronto tradition, where people from all over the city make the pilgrimage to High Park to see the glorious cherry trees in their Spring bloom.
I haven’t attended in a couple of years, but time — as with everything now — I participated. I sauntered into the park, snapping away. I lay down on the grass and enjoyed the warm weather and the people and most of all the trees.
Why are they like this?
I shouldn’t generalize, that’s not right and I’m not a hater. I don’t want to be angry and I gain no pleasure from such shallow thinking. This isn’t who I am.
I’m actually lovely. Funny, quick to laugh, passionate, nerdy. But regrettably, I’m also very, very naive.
I fell for someone who pursued and promised but then he hid. I put him behind me, pushed past the loss, and moved forward. But then I got a call. From his wife.
I wasn’t ready for this. I feel so small, so lost, and confused. I need to be able to trust myself and that’s all falling apart. I’m not coping well.
Forsythia from High Park, just bask in it’s glorious colour.
I promise, I will edit. I have so many photos, and no edits – yet!
I’ve been practicing! And I am going to be devoting more time to this. I enjoy it, it relaxes me, it challenges me. It is all good, all around.
How about you say that to my face?
How about before you decide my breakup didn’t mean than much to me — and therefore my relationship, which was my whole world, didn’t mean that much to me — you actually ask me how I’m doing?
You haven’t even tried.
You’re assuming I’m ok. And because you’re assuming I’m ok, you’re judging my response to my breakup. Saying that it couldn’t have meant too much to me because I’m so ‘ok’. That I knew it was going to end. That I had already accepted it. That’s fucking bullshit. I’m sorry. You have no idea.
You don’t know me at all. You didn’t even ask. You took your own pathetic excuse for life experience and applied to me.
Where is the time going? How is it Spring?
How is it April?!
Soon I will be be outside, with cherry blossoms and magnolias. But for now I will bask in the glory that is Allan Gardens.
Have fun right?
That’s my goal. Have fun.
I’m just trying to live, seek new experiences, and indulge in pleasure of all forms. You will not shame me.
I have set aside this time, an undisclosed number of months, for myself. I am committing to giving this time to me. To develop and heal and become who I am. Not only to be physically healthier, but mentally stronger. I am determined not to let arrant chatter pull me down. No one’s words are worthy of more attention than my own.
In the end, I am what matters.
I love a good green house. There is something so special about them, especially in winter — cozy, humid, lush. I visited Allan Gardens here in Toronto recently, here are a few of my fave snaps.
Guys, I did something crazy. I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do after a breakup right? Cut off all your hair, party on a tropical island, eat all the bon-bons. But I don’t think this is business as usual.
Sure, I’ve done some of the expected post-breakup activities. A few nights on the town, a few new people if you’re hearing me. But what I really wanted was a splurge. To buy something for myself that I’ve always wanted. That cost too much money and was a little over-the-top.
Guys! I bought a chair! Last, I whipped out the plastic and treated myself to the sexiest leather chair I’ve ever seen. It’s massive and warm and I can’t wait to cozy up inside of it like an snugly Bond villain.
It’s what I’ve always wanted but could never bring myself to buy. I love me and I deserve this.
No slipping. No sliding.
No jazzhands. No smoking.
No joking. No midnight toking.
No blaming others.
No cynics. No keeping your feelings secret.
(But don’t just blurt them out either0
No picking our nose.
No garlic tonight if you are on a first date.
No looking at your phone.
No negativity. No pessimism.
No waiting for the future.
(Unless you are reading this sign outside the pearly gates)
No hanging out with unhappy people.
No reading any further.
Hey, no reading any further!
No clinging. No complacency.
No hating. No looking at the time.
No secrets. No jealousy.
Have fun. Hold hands. Keep warm.
No postings. No posters.
(Including this one)
No shouting. No cussing.
No nepotism. No jerks.
No sugar. No calories. No gluten.
No grudges. No lying.
(Except about your age or the reason you didn’t text back this morning)
No stink eye. No art critics.
No pretentious gazing.
No over analyzing the sculptures.
No dump pick up lines. No ghosts.
No foam or bubble parties.
No drugs. No puking.
No strutting. No loud music.
(Unless it is ours)
No saying “no” unless it is necessary.
No cannibalism. No headhunting.
No fox hunting. Actually no hunting anything at all.
No swimming. No complaining.
No shivering. No bikinis.
(This will not be strictly enforced)
No foul language.
No eating discoloured snow.
No taking second-rate photos.
(Or exchanging keys)
No shoving. No pushing.
No pets that bite.
No big PDAs. No acronyms.
No Christmas carols.
No peeing. No glass.
No peeing into a glass
No runny noses.
No being bored or cold.
No touching the sculptures.
Have fun. Hold hands. Keep warm.
Hey blog, how are you? Not bad, not bad — you? Fan-fucking-tastic, thank you for asking. 10 days ago I ventured out to the beloved Distillery District in the snow. I loved every minute of it.
I’m not sure if this is my best work, or even the best edit of this purple cone flower. But I like it, so here it is.
From last summer, Riverfest in Elora Ontario.
I don’t have a lot of hobbies, I never have. But one thing I love is camping. I love the swimming, the silly energy, the quiet moments at night, the greenery.
Last summer I visited Presqu’ile Provincial Park where I whiled away the time hanging with the plants.
Again from Oct 2016. I can be anywhere in the world, I will still fawn over gardens.
Oct 2016, second time in Paris. Honestly, the first trip was better.
So this isn’t a photography post. It’s a me post. Because why not? It’s pretty much Canadian Mental Health Day after-all.
I got dumped. 6 years and now it’s over. I couldn’t breath or think or accept it was happening. I begged and pleaded but nothing. Just nothing. So I called my parents to tell them the news. And this is why I writing — they were perfect.
My mom swore, said she was sorry and immediately asked if I wanted to come home. I did. When I got there, we talked and I cried and they consoled me and fed me and distracted me with all sorts of updates about family and friends and their world.
To add to the amazing response of my parents, my darling sister, who worked 7-7 that day, came over for the night and we all hung out and watched movies and just existed like the family we are.
It’s been 20 days now. I talk to my family more than I have in ages, sharing all sorts of babbling thoughts. I’m cheery, almost energetic. Because I have them. Because they’re there for me everyday. Everyone I’ve talked to, the few people I’ve told or have been told, has been exceptional.
What I’m trying to say is — find your support. Find those people in your life that will be there for you. You will hit bumps in the road but their support can carry you forward.
From a 2016 trip to Algonquin Provincial Park. Fantastic trip, great people, superb mushrooms.
Chichicastenango Market, Guatemala Feb 2017. I had the honour of traveling with my great uncle and sister for 15 days. Our time at this market was all too short.
All photography by me.