with you…under white linen sheets.

with you.  under white linen sheets. is where i want to be in bed.  no longer alone. where we lay awake full in love free of heartbreak. wrapped in sunlight where we can live out our dreams in each other’s arms while kissing beneath the stars and chasing moon beams. we’ll smile from the happiness…

emotional excess.

“something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terrors, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.” -anais nin anais nin continues to be a saving grace for me.  her profound wisdom somewhat like a bucket of ice water splashed onto my face.  her words perfectly confronting and comforting….

it could have been worse.

“there are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle.”  (albert einstein) creative writing challenge day 12: it could have been worse. what is ‘it’ anyway?  yesterday’s scorn?  the broken heart?  the post-war bedroom tears?  the lost job?  the rainy grey…

what you want to be remembered for.

if you’re reading static confusion daily you know by now that i’m partaking in a creative writing challenge for the month of july.  (thank you dear reader for coming along with me). this particular theme (what you want to be remembered for) doesn’t resonate well with me; it doesn’t compel me to write.  simply because…

30 days of april.

april has always been my favourite month.  it’s when the days get a little longer; the sun a little warmer.  the winter lion goes into hibernation; the spring lamb comes out to play.  snowflakes melt into lilac blossoms; under the cold white blanket new life begins.  a new season grows. even on the other side of the…

my (little) life sabbatical.

“life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” -confucius what would you do if you didn’t have to work?  what favourite things would you spend time on?  what foreign land would you travel?  what stories (and ideas) would unfold?  what would happen if you were to let loose … to let go…

bare walls and packed-up carboard cartons.

tis amazing how quickly you can fill a space.  even quicker how it can be emptied.  my 4×4 wall abode was a haven, a reading nook and in the early mornings, a yoga studio.  it is where i write.  it is where i cry.  it is where i rise.  it is a space of comfort, of confidence, of…

the hippocampus, buttertarts and applesauce.

tis funny the tiny, intrinsic things that ignite a forgotten moment, unlocking a forlonged memory.  like how just now savouring on a piece of banana and walnut bread, staring blankly for a train to rescue me from suburbia, i can taste the creamy banana loaf that grandma used to make.  the melting walnut suddenly tastes like the brown sugar…

poem mso.

night time skies beautiful blue eyes; dusk blown kisses individual misses; a scornful sparrow gone is yesterday’s tomorrow; light morning rain her forgotten name; tangled white sheets to empty grey streets; his unmade bed in her messed up head.

the naked (creative) mind.

for the past two years i have had the most amazing (platonic) relationship with a polish man.  my therapist.  there, i said it.  i’ve been seeing a therapist.  and i’m proud of it.  i think it is important to talk about it as a means to break down some of the social stigma around mental health.  the support is there…

the yogasm.

as much as i would like to i cannot take credit for this word.  i first uttered it about a year ago when speaking to a friend who takes as much release in this meditative form of exercise (yoga) as i do. yes, the meaning of the word ‘yogasm’ is exactly what you think it is (you dirty…