“One final paragraph of advice: do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am — a reluctant enthusiast… a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much; I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound men and women with their hearts in a safe deposit box, and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this; You will outlive the bastards.”
— From a speech to environmentalists in Missoula, Montana in 1978 and in Colorado, which was published in High Country News in the 1970s or early 1980s under the title “Joy, Shipmates, Joy.”, as quoted in Saving Nature’s Legacy : Protecting and Restoring Biodiversity (1994) by Reed F. No
these G8 G20 protests come across as nothing but absolute lazyness; an unproductive, uncreative approach to communicating with our leaders. if we’re going to be demanding so much of them (money, peace, attentiveness), perhaps it’s time we invest ourselves into being attentive over the money it costs when we neglect to protest peacefully. just sayin’.
friends didn’t nickname me lil’ g without reason: throughout highschool i subscribed to the (mostly embarassing) hip-hop fashion culture, which has (thankfully) transitioned to simple appreciation for hip-hop culture overall.
'still d.r.e' is still one of my favourite songs/music videos of all time, i still don’t know the wu-tang secret, & i quite literally would do unfathomable things to bounce in a cadillac coupe deville alongside a harem of under-dressed hussies and snoop dogg. this is who you are friends with. and i am not sorry.
1. i wonder if my lil’ cousin the demon seed will notice if i suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep - lovingly, of course 2. you are driving an 18 wheeler, which means i can hear you driving behind me without the use of your obnoxious and embarasssing horn. FO. 3. am i awake? 4. i’m going to california on friday, then dominican in july, then across canada. 5. i’m getting a skunk patch 6. highlights or phone bill? that is the question 7. biting into a peach is comparable to biting into an infant’s skull. 8. i really hope i made the appropriate decision here 9. lauranne boyd. i love you.
365 days of pained plans have been thrown out the proverbial window, and in their place rests a brand new map and my curious feet to scale it: what have i gone and done? mere days ago i had been reading dossiers on various european countries for the trip of a lifetime next summer, and now i’m re-packing my suitcase and revisiting life on the road - AGAIN - for an organization that has embraced me from the moment i walked through their door.
i’m terrified of what’s to come. my time with invisible children was sadly finite, but this is a (paying) job of infinite nature: my bedroom will soon become foreign to me - the sheets always crisp, the visits varying in length but consistently fleeting - and the faces i’ll see along the way will read like a revolving door when i try to remember them before sleep. these legs will be tired and tried, my heart challenged beyond comprehensible belief, my grace sought for and (hopefully) found. lord, please help me? i ask nothing but to find words where there might be none, strength for the sake of the people around me and a great joy over this great fortune you’ve put into my hands for reasons i simply don’t understand.
as of mid july/early august - see you later, hamilton. i’ll either be riding dirty on the west coast or heavy hitting the ‘beast’ coast.
I’ve been an advocate for many things, but never before have I given consideration to how utterly warped our collective perception on beauty is. As if the critique of outsiders isn’t unbearable enough, so many women waste time (and money) scrutinizing and manipulating themselves into manufactured byproducts of what the world says we should be.
And I say: hell nah.
To be specific, this doesn’t mean that I look at myself in the mirror and see definitive perfection. I still do my hair, I still put on makeup, and I still have to wear a bra on a daily basis because as it turns out, my breasts aren’t self-supporting spherical orbs. But I’m finally at a place in my life where I look in the mirror and ignore definitive perfection to appreciate the logical fact that i’m not a carbon copy. There simply isn’t a single human being alive that has the same shape and colour of freckles that I do, or the flecks of colours in their eyes that I do. So when my gal pal and photographer friend, Danielle Rita-Procter, approached me about being a part of a portrait series emphasizing ‘real’ beauty, I was extremely flattered and excited to be a part of it. Here is one of my favourites.
Ladies, be graceful to yourselves and to one another. If we want the world at large to stop feeding us falsities about self-image, we’ve got to be the ones to set an example amongst ourselves.
I’ll post more photos from the other gals in this series as they become available. & CONGRATULATIONS DANI on your exciting baby news!
and this one is getting to be increasingly unbearable. the culprit? tim hortons. the crime? putting napkins IN the donut bag, where it becomes an overachiever and absorbs either all the honey or all that wonderful icing. i’ve paid my 90 cents and i want everything that cloud of decorated dough has to offer me.