Born and raised in Winlaw, baby.
Slocan Valley
My Submitted Artview all
My Submitted Writingread all
- The Good Life -
An author sits at his cramped wooden desk; pen in one hand, cigarette in the other. He stares at the mocking piece of blank paper that lies in front of him. He begins to ponder the disease from which he is suffering: writer’s block. What brings it on, he wonders. Is it preventable? More importantly, is it curable? The man pushes these immaterial thoughts out of his mind. He has more important things to think about. He needs an ending, his deadline is looming. The past one hundred and thirteen pages came so easily, flowing directly out of his pen,… Read Full Story »
- Looking Through Windows -
Our van is full of the boisterous clamour of North American teenagers, laughing and talking. In a few short months, we will graduate from high school and go our separate ways. But, right now I don’t need to think about that. Right now it is Spring Break, and I am in Tijuana with my friends. The van we sit in is a bulky mass of chipped grey paint and rust. Inside, the only working seatbelt is the one in the driver’s seat, so most of us have to do without. It’s better this way, though. With no belt keeping me… Read Full Story »
- On The Road -
Driving across Montana with my father. Watching the land go by. He tells me the Latin names of some plants. Holodiscus Discolor. I tell him about the night I got drunk on cosmopolitans and started a food fight. Lemon Meringue Pie. The Virgin Mary stands on a mountain top, watching over a small mining town. She smiles and waves as we drive past. After fiddling with the dial for the longest time, I find a profound radio station. It plays punk rock and doo wop from the fifties. Driving across Montana with my father. It's a big state. Read Full Story »
- Green Apple Soap -
I had a dream last night and it fit me like a glove. We were standing in the kitchen, you and me, and the fridge was open and then you slipped your thumbs under my belt loops in the way that you do and you pulled me to you, the way you do. And you kissed me, but not the way you do. The world got warm and I got lost and a cold wave crashed through the door smelling like green apple soap but it didn't sting my eyes. And then it was gone, and you were gone and… Read Full Story »
- Dizzy -
Dirty dancing in a dirty club. All my usual feelings of scepticism and fear are drowned out by the music, the dizzy haze of alcohol and smoke, drowned out by the warmth of your hands on my back, on my hips, the warmth of your hands on my hands. Dirty dancing in a dirty club. Nothing but two bodies grinding against one another to the tedious beat of an overplayed pop song. Meaningless. But now, somehow, your cheek meets mine, and I have that black-and-white movie moment, the one where I stop believing that romance is dead and I think… Read Full Story »
- Elliott -
You gave them a song but all they wanted was a chorus. You gave them black, white, grey. You gave them truth and all the lies in between. You gave them stained glass, fragile and beautiful like you. You gave them everything. Reluctantly, you gave them your life. eagerly, you gave them your death. But all they wanted was a chorus. Read Full Story »
- Saying Goodbye -
When I planted those seeds I didn't expect anything to come up. I didn't have any experience - I'd never gardened before. Try it, but don't get your hopes up, I told myself. Little green shoots began to appear. So beautiful and breakable. They looked like tiny emerald fireworks frozen in time. The little green shoots rapidly became huge, healthy plants - a jungle of bursting colour, limitless petals reaching toward the sun. I began to forget that there used to be nothing but dirt where they stood. Last night the frost came early and chilled my Eden into submission,… Read Full Story »
- Indecision (Good Riddance) -
Lying in a field looking up at the sky through swaying blades of grass like a shot from a bad movie, real life cliche just like you always wanted. Green paint against blue canvas, the wind blows it dry and gives you goosebumps, or maybe those are from something else. Sink into the soft earth beneath you. Lay your head on somebody else's shoulder, you don't have to support it now. But you shouldn't be doing this. Sunlight beating down on you, Reason beating up on you. Forget it. Don't make it worse. Don't make it better. This is perfection. Read Full Story »
- Omnipotence -
I’ve always been fascinated by making jam. The way you start with plump, round berries and finish with a bowl of sweet, sticky mush. It still surprises me. Each time I dump those firm berries into the pot, I find it impossible to imagine their transformation into an almost liquid form. And then, when it happens, when they do change their shape, their consistency, their very nature, I feel a certain unique little thrill. It’s like playing God. Read Full Story »
- A Photograph of My Parents' Wedding -
They are twenty-six years old. They sit at the base of a huge oak, each holding a glass of champagne. His long hair is pulled back into a ponytail. The sneakers on his feet clash perfectly with his cheap grey suit. A wide, dumbfounded grin spans his unshaven face. Her small feet are hidden by the skirt of her white linen dress. She is laughing and looking at her new husband. A few days ago her father had told her not to go through with the wedding. She didn’t listen to him. She is making a strange motion with her… Read Full Story »
- Lost -
There’s a desk in here somewhere, barely visible beneath the numerous objects scattered all over it. I can’t remember the last time I found what I was looking for. What a mess. Photos on the wall, happy memories of how things were. Bookshelves, or something like bookshelves, made out of boards and old milk crates hold all the knowledge in this place. Moby Dick and Don Juan complain that nobody ever bothered to read them. But who has the time? Read Full Story »
- Out of Costume -
***ACT ONE*** The best shows are always on closing night. Opening night there are too many nerves, then during the middle shows the cast members get cocky, begin to lose energy and there is always at least one major screw-up; the band misses its cue or the lead forgets an entire soliloquy. But, on closing night, the energy is back up. The cast wants to atone for that major screw-up from the day before, emotions are high because people are sad to see the play coming to an end, and it’s the last chance for everyone to finally act on… Read Full Story »