What do you wish you spent more time doing five years ago?
Five years ago I was 19. I spent a lot of time drunk, at shows I didn’t like, smoking in alley ways and dating guys I didn’t connect with. I was lucky to have Derek as a friend, that is the brilliant highlight of that year. I was also just getting in to modelling.
I wish that I’d spent less time reading self help books, and more time exploring with paint and dance. I wasn’t socially skilled enough to engage in any sort of meaningful community, but I wish I’d spent less money on gin and more money on tickets for plays, films and art classes. I really wish I’d taken my health seriously, that I’d walked through the forest every day instead of getting stoned and sitting in a dank room.
I have no real sense of regret. The time I spent wallowing in useless rebellion prepared me for the great inspiring wow that is right now. There is always balance, and without knowing full well what boredom feels like I wouldn’t be so ready to seize the days I have now.
What do you wish you spent more time doing five years ago?
What life lesson did you learn the hard way?
I learned the power of intent, the danger of unwatched thoughts, and of my own wholeness. Bored and confused, I embarked down a dangerous path as a teenager. With full intent, I naively made myself sick. I spent hours programming my mind to hate. I wish now that I’d chosen a different creative project, had continued my interest in the super natural or astral projection. Those topics had none of the real world drama I crave. So I decidedly developed an eating disorder. It’s probable that I’ll have to be watchful for it’s resurgence for the rest of my life.
Thankfully, what I learned from the time spent in self inflicted anguish is exceptionally useful. I have an understanding of inception, and have embarked on creative journeys using the same techniques I once used to craft self hate. With the same careful attention, I build palaces in my mind.
I suppose it’s also a hard way of learning to accept this form. Even the littlest judgements I hold against my body are not tolerated for long. Every year I give less fucks and carry myself with a grace and confidence that was lacking in the magazine photos I idolized. If I hadn’t experienced the depth of feeling hideous I might not feel so natural and loving of all flesh. Dimpled, wrinkled, stretched and sagging flesh. And so I may be fortunate, as my body ages I’m going to grow in beauty and continue to proudly say fuck you to a society that so easily promotes attitudes of self hate.
While I may struggle from time to time with shame, I am acutely aware that it is my own creation. I am responsible, and free.
What gets your excited for life?
Surreal experiences, connections and dances through the dawn. I get excited with every bit of self another exposes to me, every time I face a well ingrained fear, and any time I surprise myself with brilliance. Typically, I don’t allow myself to get too excited, too worked up, about much. I try to keep flowing on an even keel. Every so often, something intangible unfolds, mysterious and complete, and I’m sent in to an almost manic frenzy of delight and I am the poetry of life.
What gets you excited for life?
What’s the most sensible thing you’ve ever heard someone say?
One ideal that was introduced to me by my mother was of eating foods as close to their natural state as possible. Four years the ideas and attitudes accumulated from her studies in nutrition and holistic healing have been seeking in to my stubborn mind. It doesn’t occur to me how sensible it is to eat a salad for lunch until I decide to eat something….else. The quick deterioration in my health, appearance and demeanour is a sure sign that eating what is popular in restaurants and groceries stores is not at all what my body considers nutrition. I consider myself fortunate to have been introduced to the holistic nutrition at an early age, long before the chance for dis-ease has had opportunity to set in to my body.
Who do you sometimes compare yourself to?
I have a strict aversion to comparing myself to friends unless it is in a mutually beneficial light. I’ve seen both jealousy and self importance destroy relationships. Comparison narrows perspective. Still, I habitually compare my present self with my past and future incarnations. It is certainly not the best use of my time, but I feel compelled to do it out of a fear that my integrity has degraded.
At times, I’ve compared myself heavily to the community I am surrounded by. The process left me feeling alienated and a little insane. I do my best to refrain from doing so, now. I crave uncharted territory, but I wouldn’t wish disconnection for anyone else and thus have to live by a standard and not inflict it on myself.
Who do you sometimes compare yourself to?
When was the last time you tried something new?
Inspired by the answers of Sinder, I’m going to answer a bunch of questions in numbered sequence. I found a list of questions here.
Two hours ago I repotted a plant for the first time. I haven’t killed this plant, which is also new. Lauren, co-founder of the bohemian hotel, left it here before returning to Vancouver. I don’t recall what she had named it.
My life in particular is full of new. I don’t often try new foods or try on new clothes. It’s unusual for me to go a couple of days without making a new friend. I’m keen on the art of living, which leads to continually reinventing my processes, repurposing my faculties and manifesting the imagined.
It hasn’t always been so. I’ve been paralyzed by fear, confined to a bed, to a computer, to a repetitive loop in my mind. That vast difference in my quality of life gives me the courage to try something new, even if it’s so scary that I can’t breathe. Who knows what terrain lies beyond the threshold?
When was the last time you tried something new?
I don’t know who created this image or mask, but it is one of my favourites.
Facing the same challenges we always do, that which we have learned is applied at deeper levels.
(Source: sisterwolf, via violent-buddhist)
Instructions on how to ruin everything
Be honest. Seriously, that’s it. Just be honest to everybody around you.
My honest has been my downfall today. Maybe I’ll just lie for the rest of my life.
How to ruin everything and experience the discomfort of freedom; be honest. The high I get from watching my self and life fall apart in the wake of uncandid moments. That thing you held on to? Just an illusion. You loved it, and now all you have is freedom.
Wearing the scarf Jamie made for me. <3
I was introduced to makeup the same year my became mature enough to procreate. I was 11. I’ve been on this planet for 24 years and some odd days as it stands. This is the first year that I can remember feeling beautiful without makeup. I haven’t always cared or even thought about whether I was beautiful, but I certainly felt that way when I wore makeup. Green sparking rings were painted around my eyes every day before school. For whatever reason, I also thought the closer to perpendicular my face was to the ground while I walked the more beautiful I was. Rarely could I see where I was walking. Surely I was an awkward and delusional child.
Lets not kid ourselves, I’m just as delusional now. I have the benefit of being an adult, in full responsibility of my delusions. After years of wearing makeup to enhance, or completely cover my natural beauty: I’ve decided that supporting a billion dollar industry that tortures animals, makes us feel like shit, pollutes our body and the environment isn’t something I want to support with my small collection of dollars. I’m going to paint my face when I feel whimsical instead, and save the small collection of pigmented dusts and brushes I already have for stage performances.