Category Archives: honeybees



growing up my brother had a stuffed Care Bear called Brave Heart. he took it with him everywhere. in fact, i would wagger a guess it’s still with him even today.

or at least propped up on his childhood bed at my parents house.

i’ve been thinking about the term “lionheart” lately. namely because the radio keeps playing Of Monsters and Men and i can’t get the lyrics “You’re the King and I’m a lionheart” out of my head.

i’ve been trying to conjure up all the courage i can muster these days, and failing miserably. my reserves have been depleted. outwardly i can fake it for others, but inside i’ve been feeling paralyzed. as though any decision i make — even if it is the right one — will be wrong.

it’s exhausting being alone through it all too.

perhaps i need to dig out my own Brave Heart from the back of my closet (her name was Rainbow, a small stuffed bear with suspenders) and remind myself of a simpler time when i felt fearless. if only for nostalgia sake.

1 Comment

Filed under honeybees, writing

at her post


Goodnight, Sam.

You brought out the best in us.

1999 – 2013


Filed under home, honeybees

right in this moment

i walked to aloulette lake today. i hadn’t been since last march. we drove and you helped me film my little art project. i remember after we went for diner food and split a milkshake. all summer i think i avoided going because the drive and hike reminded me of you.

then today in the stillness of the crisp winter air the silence didn’t seem as loud. i heard children laughing on the beach collecting rocks. my ipod played this song and i let myself grieve fully for the first time.

my warm tear stung cold cheeks.

but it’s all right. i’m all right.


Filed under honeybees

time staggers on

I’m standing at a cross walk waiting for the light to turn green. A double-decker bus races past. I catch my reflection in the window.

How has it been four years.

I look taller.



Less sad eyes.

Yet more reasons to be sad. How does that work?

The light turns green. I walk quickly into the underground. The dust of the day hits my face, I slide my card across the sensor, as though I’ve done this a thousand times. Maybe that’s why people always ask me for directions – I look like I know where I’m headed.

I hop on the train after descending the 78 steps to the platform. My stop comes quickly and before I know it I’m climbing the steps back up to the light.

She’s waiting for me at the cafe. If we were to press rewind, it would have been the other way around. She is early. This makes me smile.

Bear hugs are exchanged.

Five minutes into our walk to the pub, she exclaims, “It doesn’t feel like any time has passed!”

I know.

Yet, it has.

Not in her or I’s connection, but in that reflection I saw in the bus window.

It showcases itself in the tiny details.

I can keep my eyes happy, even if I’m sad, as my heart itself knows happiness. This has only come through the comfort of being truly loved.

I know I’m worth it, and I didn’t know this before.

I know it’s not my fault for things beyond my control.

And in the million other different ways he changed me.


Today you learned?


Filed under honeybees, life, london, love


No better feeling than after 36 hours of travel crawling into your own bed, fresh from a shower.

I’m not even bothered by wet hair on the pillow. I’m sure I will pass out shortly, although my mind knows its 3am, my body is still at noon.

Very thankful I was able to take two weeks away and travel to places I’ve never been. Even more thankful I have this weekend to adjust to the time difference and process a few other things before I head back to work.

Something you’ve been thankful for recently?


Filed under honeybees, stuff and things

in the radio’s hot sun

I’m back home after my week away, and I ended the trip off with a very full weekend in Phoenix, visiting a good friend.

Sadly, I didn’t take as many photographs as I thought I would. I’ll blame the heat and all the walking we did. Here are a few though.

First stop upon arrival, Uranus Recording studios. This was a sign I just liked out front. I wish I had taken a photograph of the bathroom – every artist who records there leaves a message on the wall. But I was distracted by all the shiny objects.

Craziness in the art store. Unfortunately, this cool little art shop is closing. I loved this mural on the wall.

Normally, the food porn picture is taken before the meal, but this shows you how much we enjoyed it. Chakra 4 Herb & Tea House in Phoenix. The best tomato and avocado humus I have ever had! I can’t even recall the other kinds, because that one was so good. Served with pita and raw veg.

Comic-Con was taking place over the weekend in Phoenix, so when we were out Friday night we saw some great costumes, and some unidentifiable ones. Perfect night for wandering, and for having dinner next to a window, for people watching.

Phoenix and the surroundings areas had some wonderful street art. However, I saw most of it whilst we were driving, so didn’t snap any photos. Here’s one from downtown though. Once I stopped to take it, two other people did. The power of suggestion.

We also made it to the Musical Instrument Museum (or The MIM), which was truly overwhelming. Instruments from nearly every country in the world. It was also a great lesson in geography. I was a little disappointed that there wasn’t more interpretation to go along with the instruments, and that the only piece from Canada was the fiddle.

It was a wonderful end to a brilliant week off. Many thanks to my host.

It also made me realize how far away the closest people in my life are. I only get to see my parents once or twice a year. On my birthday, I was lucky enough to chat over Skype with a few friends overseas and in Toronto, but when technology causes a fuss, you understand it’s not so easy to just nip around the corner for a cuppa as it once was.

I also think that is one of the reasons I didn’t take so many photographs on this trip. I was less concerned about capturing the moment and just focused on being in it.

Twas a whirlwind ride in the desert, and I look forward to next time.


Filed under food and such, friends, geekery, holidays, honeybees

i can see the words you’re screaming in the frost

one of the first things i did in my university dorm room was hang coloured twinkle lights from the ceiling.

to this day, some of my favourite memories are of that year. mostly in the winter when we’d gather on the window sill, or huddle into my tiny single bed and look out at the freshly fallen snow, talking well into the wee hours of the morning about nothing and everything. ours was the biggest room, so it was a natural gathering place. a room with a view.

whenever it’s the first snowfall of the year, i think about that year and midnight snowball fights. too drunk, or happy, to feel the cold night air. time stood still in the silence of it all.

i think that’s what i miss the most, the silence. the silence you can only appreciate when you’re being loud.

now everything is loud, but through external forces.

work. expectations. the grocery list. bills. life.

it gets so loud, piling worlds on top of each other, not to mention the promises.

i want the silence to scream through.

even then, i’m not sure you’d listen.


Filed under honeybees, writing