more die of heartbreak.

 (Vancouver Island, around Kamloops, BC)

"We didn't speak the same language..We had endearments, kisses, warm looks. What we were missing was the words."

-Saul Bellow

He brings me to tears (of laughter, joy, et plus). Do you ever have a novel that you hide for some reason in some dusty crevice in your bookshelf, then one day you are absolutely compelled and near maniacal to find, read, and DESTROY all who cross paths with you and that book..?

I did this three nights ago with More Die of Heartbreak.  Words written like they were just for me. At the most paramount moments. When all my own thoughts and opinions on myself and past are dry and empty. I can't explain anything I do. But Bellow is dragging me in; he's a tugboat in the foggy deepest of blues. And I was nearly a sinking wreck.


"Lo and Behold", is what I'm thinkin' about. Writing about a girl named Lo. A story I'm not just going to let go until it's done done done & maybe gone away somewhere nice. Will she come to Paris, Lisbon and Rome? Her life will get packed away amongst some other things. To be scribbled away, until it's all there. Until it's gone. I'll end her life one day, but for now it's just begun. Pen to hand, let the night lead it away..


hark! a hint.

A dear friend once said:
 "She actually experienced in it's heartbreaking reality the distance between 'knowing' and knowing with all one's soul.. One object in her life was to abolish that distance."

I hope my compeers say such tragically dismal and divine things of my own coming of being. 

Read it all here;


in the past.

New blog

I started a new blog, where I will be featuring once  or more per week an article on a "great thinker". This will include a variety of individuals varying from poets, journalists, authors, politicians, playwrights, philosophers and real people who have beautynoodles. Old grey minds that matter, new noggins, and ancient IQ will be discussed..

Please check it out this weekend when I update, and add it to your blogroll if you like what you see!
I'll still be writing "creative" pieces on this page, however.

I'll hint as to who it'll be later on this week..


things, needs, ideas.

"Man only escapes from the laws of this world in lightening flashes. Instants when everything stands still, instants of contemplation, of pure intuition,  of mental void, of acceptance of the moral void.  It is through such instants that he is capable of the supernatural."

-Simone Weil (Gravity & Grace)

(Things) I seek; but they become illusive; illusions.
(Needs) I try; but they become intrusive. I want too much.
(Ideas) Je pense; and they stick to the page, right to my brain.


"Going into any world, there is always more questions, than answers (to be given)."
-Radio 990AM

(an old stoop, thinking of you is much easier to do; the lives of others)


1. What are your most positive characteristics? Or "describe yourself".
Such a broad yet general question. I can't describe myself in under one minute, let alone one moon.
2. What do you like to do?
Oh you know! Living, breathing. The usual. You?

3. And the particular question I'm looming on answering in under 500 words, "What have you done to prepare yourself for this program"?
 I.. procrastinate when it comes to written assignments like this because I thrive under the threat of a deadline. 

Ah, I think I've found the answer to why I'd make for a  proper journalist. "Threatened under deadline". Three words down, 497 to go.

It's fit to be full of self-deprecation as opposed to anxiety.

These were just some of mine. What questions are impossible for you to answer?

the mad ones

"because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing."

Re-reading Kerouac for inspirational madness.

He used to cause me to become frantic and envious all at once.
Six years later, I hope to embody the manic take on life
as described in on the road.



 par diana p.

when I get up I see these sparkles 
(miniture & mirror like)
they are everywhere
could be pixies;
flitter-fluttering about with wings

lately. leafy

lac du palmes

Je pense surtout à;
dormir (jamais)
tu, toujours tu

I have thoughts in French often throughout the day. But my accent is not up to anyone's par. Thus,  (when speaking) I succeed only to make you laugh at the end of the day. And that's okay.


miniature meals & folks with no appeal.


gravity & grace

"Man only escapes from the laws of this world in lightening flashes. Instants when everything stands still, instants of contemplation, of pure intuition, of mental void, of acceptance of the moral void. It is through such instants that he is capable of the supernatural."

Simone Weil. My new lady-crush. You know you're growing up (or at least starting to) when your crushes are no longer models and actresses, but instead philosophers, poets, or political journalists. 

The basis of this adoration begins not at the waistline,  but the innate discerning qualities that they possess.  The ideal woman is not what we perceive her to be.  In fact she is not a vision.  You won't hear of her beauty. You will feel her presence, if she wants. Her telos is neither fame or notoriety.  

Who is she? Where can she be found..


"Not all humans want to be innovative, they want the comfortable feeling of something familiar,  and guidance of teachers and peers into a specific, premeditated craft, one requires no imagination or creativity, just patience and repetition. I believe that humans often need the event of failure or dissatisfaction to take place, to allow encouragement from within the deepest and most admirable parts of human desires, to evoke the true individual craft, your own creative calling, upon the ruins of past yearnings, making the future a mound of potential triumph."

An excerpt/ conclusion from an old university paper of mine.

 par Vuillard.

"A test of what is real is that it is hard and rough. Joys are found in it, not pleasure. What is pleasant belongs in dreams."

-Simone Weil



fathomless deeps

"Rise O days, from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier fiercer sweep
long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devour'd what the earth gave me;
Long I roamed the woods of the north.."
-Walt Whitman

An one moment of deepy enamoured thought,  
I contest the weight of my soul; 
The clamoring bellows in my heart. 
I shared it with you. 
Actually, you knew it before I spoke. 
But why, why;
was there a loss of words on your part?

A heartwrenching virtue of yours is you don't know.
You just don't know;
my indications of longing
from ones filled with woe.


Je suis votre désir ?


amour du blog.

aime cette blog.

ugly words in french.

right here.

I know you're right, know you're here. There is always that prevalent element of fear. I won't let it take control. Our purpose shall not be shattered. Our lives are just like a mirror.  The possibility of 13 million little pieces (the sound of my heart being broken) and that wretched sound (as it crashes to the ground) are real. But you're real, too.



coming out of a winter cocoon. now is time for something new.

zoom in/out.

There is no such thing as focus, nor the "perfect focus". Be it in the scope of photography pertaining to lens focusing, or within the life at large; whereas to "focus" on something is to remain profoundly astute and driven towards a particular goal, item, or ultimate turn of events. In either respect, you are missing something. The bigger picture. Love in it's purest essence; the state of tranquility doused with nature.

look up, or into the mirror?

Where does knowledge actually come in to play? When is it truly in it's proper "use" ?

"He was a blur of intent. He wants the virginity of it, the luxury of such space."

What is the difference between the longings of the psyche, emotional desires (passions), and just plain human interest? Are they intertwined? Or irrelevant unless singled out.. These are questions that must be asked, but only answered by you. A true you.


"All I do know is knowledge really is power, as the old warriors used to say. If you don't pay attention, you take yourself out of the picture, politically. And you lose the moral right to complain."

-Bartley Kives

"..There was so much promise with Harper being in power..Most voters are going to think 'there is no way to get someone who is actually going to live up to the accountability''.. What if we had an election all about democracy and no one cared?..That is the cascading effect of the cynicism that we are seeing out there. The population becomes disengaged. Believing the government is irrelevant. Believing their political leaders are crooks. We have no one left to defend the abuse of democracy.  It's a horrible price that we pay for our cynicism..The growing atomization of society."

From the National with Peter Mansbridge


one sleep.

"This world for our present purpose, is the world as if it were reflected in the daily newspaper. The mirror held up to nature. Also, it is the direct and immediate source of our knowledge of history in the making. We hear the footsteps of humanity on the march. We see why we behave like human beings, and why we sometimes do not. In it, appear human tragedies, comedies and follies."

Nancy Barr Mavity




There is no such thing as overindulgence when it comes to the scope of academia. In the past few months , studying has intrinsically become part of my daily routine. I use to dread slaving away at the books. With the addition of espressos in my life, and the subtraction of less needed substances, my mind has becoming an ever-churning FACTory.

For play, read Plato.
For laughs, don't rely on books or the "funnies". (all the time) Try self deprecation and friendship.
Read/listen to the news. All these propagandist statements like "turn off the news, turn on music" are blueprints for a) economic disaster     b) a mindless generation     &   c)  a retrogressive society as a whole.

curiosity > sleep. 

 Observe people all over the world having a morning cigarette a la patio. Buying a baguette in the market.  Watch the clouds pass over a Grecian city or seascape. Borderline invasive-intriguing. This is a favourite so far.  There is a little chicken stirring about in his coop, as well as you can see the wind altering the trees, flowers and hedges.


"A newspaper, like other commodities is manufactured, bought and sold. But it's traffic is in something more important than any other merchandise. It is a traffic in words, and through words ideas. Ideas are of a greater importance to mankind- literally more potent than life or death.."


these things.

like lust & longing and simple fears.

firenze & co.

i'll send you postcards from wherever i go. 


hot dog

it was a thick line, but you've gotten me quite cross. i'm going to listen to wanda jackson until my head stops spinning and my mind quits raging.


I like the way you roll, and I'm going to roll down this hill with you.

"The most fortunate man or woman is not the one who makes the most money or wins the widest fame, but the one whose daily work is a joy and by reason of that enjoyment has in itself some of the zest of play."

-The Modern Newspaper (1936)


espresso et nasser

A much missed love of mine is the exploration of global politics in conjunction with writing about them. i can't wait to have means to my mode.

I will pray to all variations of the gods if please please please I pass the march 15th entrance tests I'm required to take. Scratch that, too conflicting. I will however be thankful. About time I get back to business.

4 x espresso, moleskin, and global politics here I come!

entrance testing.

On the docket tonight is reading some of Plato's Symposium, TIME magazine's article by , Twentieth Century: A Brief Global History, and this fabulous copy of The Modern News (copyright 1936).  Box wine & Boccherini included. Way fun.

aci, aussi, I see.

A few things I certainly need to touch up on before May 5th are..

Becoming Amicable:

The composure I seek to have while I'm away is a threatening young woman. I mean this not in terms of violence, but fierce. Powerful. Memorable.  I want to be approachable. 

The essence of my Creativity:

Is feeling quite low. I'm uninspired by winter. Overwhelmed by darkness throughout the day. A big blank. If this emotion were to be drawn out until my adventure I would be devastated to say the least.

Finding Inspiration (everywhere):

I wish this was a substance at my disposal. I make the mistake of not searching for it enough, hence the blathering on about how uncreative/ uninspired I am . Ouvir mes yeux pour changer. Well not everywhere, but more often than not.



Cette; du vrai beau amour.
tu tu tu tu



I wish I could feel more than the winds of March against my skin.
Thoughts of palms will keep me warm
visions of lisbon will get me through this
soon, soon, sooner than i can even imagine.

it’s life, and life only.

There's no use for cryin'.

Only while listening to Boccherini in the bath. Or the car. In bed. By mere thought of chord. I want to learn to say "I love this" in every language of the world. Genuine; like a heartbeat. Oxygen. Raw, tender passion. This is what I want.  The divine yet essential human desire. 

 Say it.
"J'aime cette."

I watched the beads of sweat, of water, evaporate or drip down from the nape of your neck, to the small of your back. The candles heat along with steam sensationalized each tiny pearl, rolling off your body.