01.23

Belo Horizonte, Minas Gerais. <3

01.22

 

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Nor does it grow far.

And in its adolescence, though standing on its own wobbling trunk, it bends and intertwines. So are we thus bent and folded with that from which we fall. We come to encompass it, embrace it, and it makes us  stronger, taller. And as we wrap around that thing we call heritage, we see how we fit in the long line before us, how it holds us up, how we make it stronger, more intricate.

01.21

You. are. my. Everest.  ....I know it may not look like much, but this is a 'to be continued'. You shall soon see what I know. That this hill may just kill me.

01.20

Isn't she beautiful.

Now, I've never been one for beetles. They're lumpy and loud in colour and style. Not really me personified. But these old school beetles are everywhere in Sete Lagoas. And I love them. Like, I have a crush on them.

They say when you see one, there is always a second. You'll never find one sitting alone. This one was all by its lonesome, but just because you can't see its other half, doesn't mean its not there.

This baby is from 1971, no seatbelts, 1.3 litre engine (I'm not sure what that means, but I know it's a low number), and four gears.

This is another for my wishlist. heart.

01.19

Found this in a restaurant. Was out for typical food from Minas Gerais, and there it was, on the wall. The biggest candy-pot-maker-thing I have ever seen. I wants one.

01.18

Here, finally. After what seems like twenty three trips around the globe, my feet finally set themselves on Brazilian ground. Time slows. Seconds bleed graciously into themselves as they pass by in a meandering line, ponderous and limpid. Calm. Hot. Sticky. Suffocating in its beauty. I want to see everything simultaneously. All at once, greedy.

Then Davi clambers his old car up the steep hill at the edge of Sete Lagoas, and turns me to see the expanse. The grassy hills rolling into the sprawling city, the mountains its guardians in the background, keeping watch.

There's a good chance I'll never leave.

01.17

 

Whose sister is as cool as mine? Cause mine comes and hangs out with me at 4am in the airport before I traipse off to Brazil. Shout out to you, Sister. Woop woop.

01.16

Bags are packed. Ready to go.

01.15

Lisa Hannigan's Safe Travels has been rattling around my head for the past week... because in less than two days I leave for Brazil! It will be the farthest I've ever traveled save my trip to Dubai, which I made in my naive youth, unaware of the evils of customs and immigration. So more than "safe travels, don't die", I'm singing "safe travels, please let me into the country". Optimism, work your magic. 

Also, I understand that posting a music video is kind of sort of a complete cheat, but today it was either this or a photo of the mountain of laundry perched atop every flat surface in my kitchen and sitting room. You're welcome.

01.14

I am tragically routine sometimes. I run in the same circles for weeks on end; circles within the four walls of work, circles as I climb the stairs to my house, and circles around the park when I lace up my worn out nikes.

I was running those circles around the dense green this morning, and something caught my eye... more like someones. Three gentlemen sat, stubborn against the chilly morning air, smoking and talking and laughing and they took to me like ducks to water. Every time I looped past them, they told me to slow down, enjoy the day, the sunshine. I laughed at them, as slowing down was the last thing I was planning on doing.

As I neared the end of my circular hour, I couldn't help but be tickled by the gentleness of these three men, obviously life long friends. I couldn't help myself. I stopped and asked for a photo, explaining my daily pursuit of a life in photographs. They glanced at each other and smiled, consenting without words. They couldn't understand their importance to me, but there it was. A new set of relationships, however brief our minutes shared in all the minutes that add up to life. My cheerleaders, more genuine than anything I'd encountered before.

They smiled and waved as I looped past once more. Then I veered back into busy streets to race home, never to see my new mates again. What a perfect day, a perfect run.

01.13

Dear Soulmates (aka my slip on vans),

I'm afraid I have found someone else. I waited for you for a long tome, but you never appeared. I searched high and low and yet you would not be found. I called out for you, and you did not answer.

So I have run away with your cousin, the tie up white vans. We're not necessarily soulmates, but we have a lot in common. We like the same music, have pretty much the same style. So though I hope you'll come back to me one day, I'm taking your cousins to Brazil with me. And who knows, we might just fall in love.

My deepest regrets,

Jen

01.12

This is my "preparing for the Brazilian sun" package.

Sunscreen for my skin. Yes, it's SPF50. Yes I'll need it and use it.

Sunscreen for my hair. Cause it's delicate.

And sunscreen for my eyes. Cause I'm so cool.

01.11

Holy smokes, I actually forgot about today. And it pissed me off, cause I had my photo ready and everything!
...so the rules are slightly fuzzy here. If I took the photo on time, am I allowed to post late? I should have written a rulebook beforehand.

So we're gonna let this one go, but I downloaded the Blogspot app on the phone, so no more excuses!

And I love this picture. Mostly cause there's lots of food. As there will be much more food to come in posts to follow. And who doesn't want to look at gluten-free peanut butter cookies, Oreo and mascarpone truffles with Baileys and dark chocolate fudge? ;)

01.10

There are many things my sister is amazeballs at. She can now add speed-painting to her CV. If you ever need a bathroom or hallway spruced up with a bit of colour, call the Amazing Speed Painting Demons. We'll get it done in ... 1:02 minutes. Seriously, this wasn't even sped up or anything. Listen to the music.

As far as Tuesday afternoons go, this is a pretty decent way to spend it, I won't lie.

Plus now my bathroom is all pretty! (and doesn't remind me of blueberry yogurt at all. Not even a little).

01.09

All dressed up with a mandolin and nowhere to go!

Well, somewhere to go. But I can't put down the mandolin at the mo. My fingers are crying at me to stop, but they'll be calloused soon enough and I can carry on with it all the day long. Bring on Lisa and The Decemberists.

01.08

 Oh no... it seems it has only taken six days for me to fall behind. So today, I'm going to make up for it. With extra pictures. Lots of extra pictures.

Today I felt like I was running through a Tim Burton film. Or an Edgar Allan Poe poem. I stepped out into the grainy Sunday mist and tackled the streets until I reached Stephen's Green. The cold air streamed over my bare arms as I cut through the thick wind. The hair on my arms raised as I looped around the green once, twice, thrice, and again. They remained standing on edge with every turn, and I realized the trees around me, basking in the slate grey canvas behind them, were reaching out their weathered, arthritic fingers toward me as I raced past. They groped at my back and twisted their fingers in the air. I kept moving, daunted by the melancholy of it all. It exhilarated and awakened me, to have my haunted companions tickling winter sky.

..but I do love disappearing in the romance of it, as I push my body into another mile of exhaustion. There's no high quite like it. 

01.06

Alright, now I know this isn't a photo that I took today, but I do love it. It pretty much encapsulates every aspect of my family's personality. Nerdy. Ridiculous. Shameless.

Just look at us, seriously. I would like to draw everyone's attention to my little hat-headband-fringe blocker thing. Yeah, the red thing on top of my head. ...it may or may not be cut out of a pair of stockings. But goodness me it's useful. It's warm but not stifling, fitted but not restricting, and it keeps my blasted fringe out of my eyes as I bounce down the road.

And every time I see it poking out from under my wooly socks, it makes me want to lace up, pull it over my head and get out for a run.

ps ilovemyfamily

01.05

Ok first of all, if your ears are sensitive (or impatient and temperamental), please press mute.

My hair salon is like Candyland on crack. ... and so is the music when you speed up video to 400%, apparently. But the salon is sunny and colourful and patterned, and pretty much the opposite of my entire wardrobe. It makes me happy and I think it must make my hair happier, too. The massage chairs at the hair-washing-basin-things aren't a bad touch either.

And oh yeah, I'm not paying much attention to the camera as Ryan Gosling is staring at me from the magazine. Oops.

01.04

SOULMATES. SEPARATED AT BIRTH.

I cannot find these shoes to save my life.

I remember the last pair I owned, my good friends who served me for years. They walked through fire (and mud, and slush, and two feet of snow) for me. They stuck with me through raging concerts, ones where I nearly lost my head... but never my beloved shoes. They followed me through all of theatre school and across an ocean. And as cracks started to show and threads began to unravel, I grew to love them all the more. The fraying and aging only made them more beautiful.

Alas, all great loves must meet their inevitable end, and ours came before I was ready. My soulmates were ready for the grave... or rather, the bin. And since then, I've not filled that void with any other soles.

AND I CANNOT FIND ANOTHER BLASTED PAIR OF THESE SHOES ANYWHERRRRRRE.

Oh, unrequited love. I did not think thou could be so cruel.

01.03

- excerpt from "To the Fringed Gentian", often quoted by Lucy Maud Montgomery


When I did the Maud show this fall, she struck me with her ambition. At the turn of the twentieth century, when she yet had the right to vote, she became one of the most famous and beloved women in Canadian literature. Impressive. But it was never enough. She needed to climb, no matter how hard, how steep.


She wrote daily for two hours. Without fail. And as I begin to do the same, I can feel the first steps upon my Alpine Path. It is a secluded one, and my goal is not that honoured fame Maud so desperately reached for. My eyes are on the heights sublime. The heights of my own doubt, that my wandering has lead me so far away from.

01.02

This late-night thing cannot be the start of a bad habit.

I must be clear: I have no idea what I'm doing here. On this blog and in general.

Resolve seems to dilute so quickly. In what began as a thunderous start in my adult life has, to be blunt, turned into meandering. Sharp keenness turned to marshmallow, direction began to saunter and suddenly, I look up and am treading water. I hate treading...it gets you nowhere and exhausts every crevice of your body in its stagnant course.

So I'm grasping for a path that puts one foot in front of the other and gets me places. Words. They have become so meaningless, but in my life are a fortress of reassurance. They are the only thing that have stayed with me. Words, individually harmless until strung together, once carefully twined into sentences and stanzas can wallop you in the chest with their profundity.

So those of you who do not admire the weightiness of the written word should go. Cause there's going to be lots of it.

Hopefully I'll sound a little less severe in the morning.

2 down, 364 to go...

01.01

So here we go. A new years resolution I'm actually interested in keeping.

One year. 365 days.
Every day, one image. One film clip. One look at the world.

... and, true to form, I'm already behind. I'm scraping in my first post in the last dying minutes of January first. The day that holds such promise, because you have a long, clean, beautiful year ahead of you and a fistful of good intentions.

So, I'm a mess. As usual. But I'm here, and hopefully not going anywhere. I shall be clumsy at first, but hopefully charming. And as always, eager.

1 down, 364 to go...