February 22, 2018

Today, I went for a solitary walk along the aqueduct that serves as the tea company’s water source.

With birdsong as my companion, I traveled the narrow path undulating through tea fields and tangled forest. The air was thick with moisture from yesterday’s rain.


February 20, 2018

Soft the sleep that claims the dead

Such abandon to the earth

The fecundity of life

gifting the still, dark berth

I too shall have a bedchamber

of leaves , green moss and bracken fern

My eyes though hollow seeming

still gaze upon my soul's return

February 19, 2018

I have grown to love this house
It, itself, is not mine
I have never lived here
nor have I occupied myself with it’s well being
That place of honour has belonged to my parents

Yet, it has held for me the heart of family
storing tenderly, photographs of a cherished pas...

February 18, 2018

We finish the day with a sacred libation

Gathered together in the warm glow of the kitchen light

We share a pot of tea

The air between us is thick with ritual, tradition and family ties

The tea we drink comes from up the hill

A tea farm where my mother worked as a young gir...

February 16, 2018

The Acorean Islands wait patiently for me
I, tired and worn
wrap myself in my memory of them
as I sit in the departure lounge
of a Canadian airport.
Winter has superseded my Canadianess

I am a two-hearted being by birth
My human molecules a colliding diaspora

February 10, 2018

Out damn spot

When will I become clean?

When will the layers of history caked on my skin wash off?

                          How do I earn the absolution I crave?

Will I ever be whole?

Will my DNA call back into the fold its multitudinal origins?


January 23, 2018

Part I

A sensitive heart is such a beautiful thing

It calls to you, for it can do no other

Yet that very beauty can be a fearsome god

It's essence caustically pure and untamed

Part II

How many of these dear hearts battered and bruised

retreat from misguided slings and arrows


January 19, 2018

Sometimes, I am wild and uncouth. My carefully manicured veneer cracks and splits, leaving that diagonal, frayed lacing across the wound.

The Jekyll oozes out.  It chafes against the constraints of all too perfect white skin, and the simpering femaleness of my culture.


January 8, 2018

For the last 6 months, I have been working on my show The Apparent Magnitude of Everyday. This has been a project that has essentially taken up most of my studio time.  Hardly a day goes by without me getting up early in the morning and unloading and reloading my large...

January 5, 2018

This past week, Angus went looking for an old Habs jersey he thought we had stored somewhere.  We are remounting Life After Hockey by Kenneth Brown at Dancing Sky, and we had used the jersey in the original production. He found many things, but not the jersey.  One of...

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