Writing - Missed
I should have told you I loved you.
Before I packed my bags and walked out the door.
I should have kissed you for longer.
I regret.
That when you kissed me on the lips.
I turned aside.
For what could have been.
And wasn't.
Showing posts with label Connections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Connections. Show all posts
Monday, May 2, 2016
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Wrap Up - 2014
Wrap Up - 2014
2014. You were not all you could have been. You were a year that was filled with struggles. A year where for three months, we had our noses to the grindstone, where we worked 16-18 hours a day. Where we created, and we were uncertain, where we worried and worked and struggled. 2014. Graduated another program, made a bunch of artistic works. Floundered.
Got sick. Really sick. Saw the insides of more hospitals than I wanted to. For myself and for those around me. A depressing reminder of our own mortality. Of new problems, of old aches. Of needles, and taking blood, of medication and forms and talking to experts. Of broken bones and drifting through the darkness. Of taking time off.
I hate taking time off 2014. But I took two months off. Two months away from art, away from work. Two months spent reading, and thinking, and contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
Got back to it. Made a game, and another, and another. Made things that were important to me. Close to my own heart, for no one else. Things I'd never release, but demanded outlet.
Got hired, worked for a while on games. Met people, started again.
It was a year for dungeons and dragons. Got a commendation from Wizards as a Dungeon Master. Got recognized by other dungeon masters, other gamers, other players. My work was put on the spotlight, new designs, new ideas and bridging interesting gaps.
It was a year for getting back into Magic. Throwing cards down, building decks and finally organizing myself. For getting my competitive edge back, and learning new formats, interesting formats, and new friends to play with and against.
It was a year of finding time for online friends. Reconnecting, tweeting, engaging. A year of letting go of the people who don't care, and finding communities who do.
You were a year of hardships for everyone. A year of darkness. A year that was filled with people dying, of sadness, of going quietly in the night. You were a year of ugliness. A year where a bleak parts of humans became unveiled. Where communities we are close with showed an ugly side. You were a year of misogyny, and hate, and viscera. You should not be proud of that as your legacy. The legacy of having divided communities where we worked hard to be inclusive, to be better, to be futurists and to be welcoming. But now we are working hard to cut away the bad parts you have revealed.
You were a year where 114 children were gunned down at a school.
That's not a good thing.
But there were bright points as well. However few and far between. A year where I reconnected with people, and close friends. A year of messages, and skype, and late night chats. Of hugs. Of holding hands into the night. Of sitting close and laughing, telling jokes and sharing laughter. They are bright moments that we remember, cast against the darkness that we might see luminescence.
Courage. It was a year of finding courage.
2014. We are glad to be saying good night to you tonight. You were not a great year. You will hopefully be remembered as being relatively unremarkable, but we shall recall the truth. You were a dark time. And we hope that in bidding you and your darkness goodbye, that the future might be a better one.
2015. There's a different world out there. We're still sorting it out. There's a lot of crazy things happening, where we're all still coming into ourselves because we don't know a lot of things. But we're figuring it out.
2015. I for one am ready. I'm getting back to work. I took some time off last year, and it became clear that the rest of the world wasn't interested in waiting. So it's time to lace up these boots and get on with it. There's a lot to be done, and no sense giving it to anyone else to do. Let's get on with it and fix the world.
It needs fixing. In case you didn't notice.
2014. You were not all you could have been. You were a year that was filled with struggles. A year where for three months, we had our noses to the grindstone, where we worked 16-18 hours a day. Where we created, and we were uncertain, where we worried and worked and struggled. 2014. Graduated another program, made a bunch of artistic works. Floundered.
Got sick. Really sick. Saw the insides of more hospitals than I wanted to. For myself and for those around me. A depressing reminder of our own mortality. Of new problems, of old aches. Of needles, and taking blood, of medication and forms and talking to experts. Of broken bones and drifting through the darkness. Of taking time off.
I hate taking time off 2014. But I took two months off. Two months away from art, away from work. Two months spent reading, and thinking, and contemplating the mysteries of the universe.
Got back to it. Made a game, and another, and another. Made things that were important to me. Close to my own heart, for no one else. Things I'd never release, but demanded outlet.
Got hired, worked for a while on games. Met people, started again.
It was a year for dungeons and dragons. Got a commendation from Wizards as a Dungeon Master. Got recognized by other dungeon masters, other gamers, other players. My work was put on the spotlight, new designs, new ideas and bridging interesting gaps.
It was a year for getting back into Magic. Throwing cards down, building decks and finally organizing myself. For getting my competitive edge back, and learning new formats, interesting formats, and new friends to play with and against.
It was a year of finding time for online friends. Reconnecting, tweeting, engaging. A year of letting go of the people who don't care, and finding communities who do.
You were a year of hardships for everyone. A year of darkness. A year that was filled with people dying, of sadness, of going quietly in the night. You were a year of ugliness. A year where a bleak parts of humans became unveiled. Where communities we are close with showed an ugly side. You were a year of misogyny, and hate, and viscera. You should not be proud of that as your legacy. The legacy of having divided communities where we worked hard to be inclusive, to be better, to be futurists and to be welcoming. But now we are working hard to cut away the bad parts you have revealed.
You were a year where 114 children were gunned down at a school.
That's not a good thing.
But there were bright points as well. However few and far between. A year where I reconnected with people, and close friends. A year of messages, and skype, and late night chats. Of hugs. Of holding hands into the night. Of sitting close and laughing, telling jokes and sharing laughter. They are bright moments that we remember, cast against the darkness that we might see luminescence.
Courage. It was a year of finding courage.
2014. We are glad to be saying good night to you tonight. You were not a great year. You will hopefully be remembered as being relatively unremarkable, but we shall recall the truth. You were a dark time. And we hope that in bidding you and your darkness goodbye, that the future might be a better one.
2015. There's a different world out there. We're still sorting it out. There's a lot of crazy things happening, where we're all still coming into ourselves because we don't know a lot of things. But we're figuring it out.
2015. I for one am ready. I'm getting back to work. I took some time off last year, and it became clear that the rest of the world wasn't interested in waiting. So it's time to lace up these boots and get on with it. There's a lot to be done, and no sense giving it to anyone else to do. Let's get on with it and fix the world.
It needs fixing. In case you didn't notice.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Inspiration - Teaching
Inspiration - Teaching
This read was inspiring. Just really really cool. Teachers are awesome.
This read was inspiring. Just really really cool. Teachers are awesome.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wrap up - 2013
Wrap up - 2013
2013, a year of travel, of friends, art and hard work. A lot more sunrises and sunsets then I usually see. A lot more drawing, a lot more coding. A lot of moments, a tremendous amount of fun. A bit of sadness, a lot of truth. Some difficulty, some hardship, and a lot of change.
It was a year of seeing more of the world, of shaking hands, of meeting people. Of adding friends, saying hello, sharing jokes, and laughs, and beers under a cerulean sky. It was a year of selfies with my peeps, of late night laughs with Kristi, Cole, Keith, Ben, Tessa, Eric and Amber. It was a year of sampling bagels in another place. It was a year of eating on the pier as seagulls wandered over to have a chat. It was a year of standing arms open and waiting.
2013, a year of travel, of friends, art and hard work. A lot more sunrises and sunsets then I usually see. A lot more drawing, a lot more coding. A lot of moments, a tremendous amount of fun. A bit of sadness, a lot of truth. Some difficulty, some hardship, and a lot of change.
It was a year of seeing more of the world, of shaking hands, of meeting people. Of adding friends, saying hello, sharing jokes, and laughs, and beers under a cerulean sky. It was a year of selfies with my peeps, of late night laughs with Kristi, Cole, Keith, Ben, Tessa, Eric and Amber. It was a year of sampling bagels in another place. It was a year of eating on the pier as seagulls wandered over to have a chat. It was a year of standing arms open and waiting.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Quotes - Hayao Miyazaki - On Romance
Quotes - Hayao Miyazaki - On Romance
“I’ve become skeptical of the unwritten rule that just because a boy and girl appear in the same feature, a romance must ensue. Rather, I want to portray a slightly different relationship, one where the two mutually inspire each other to live– if I’ m able to, then perhaps I’ll be closer to portraying a true expression of love.”
- Hayao Miyazaki
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Connection - Subway Girl
Connection - Subway Girl
I stand with eyes closed, and the ripple play of a violin etches its way through my body. I can feel rhythms from the top of my head down through to the soles of my feet. Again, again. Rhythmic and motion, a push and pull. The casual grip of fingers through touch-less gloves as the ebb and twist of the subway cars bounce me like a bow string, legs bend and straighten, and my weight drifts on the flowing river of steel. I am no longer he who is remembered, but a force of nature.
My mind slips away.
I stand with eyes closed, and the ripple play of a violin etches its way through my body. I can feel rhythms from the top of my head down through to the soles of my feet. Again, again. Rhythmic and motion, a push and pull. The casual grip of fingers through touch-less gloves as the ebb and twist of the subway cars bounce me like a bow string, legs bend and straighten, and my weight drifts on the flowing river of steel. I am no longer he who is remembered, but a force of nature.
My mind slips away.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Life - Game Jam
Life - Game Jam
I remember my first concert call pretty well. It was 18 hours long, it was the first time I'd been doing a job (and being paid!) where I was surrounded by a lot of similar people and skillsets. You know up until that point I had pushed buttons on a register, delivered boxes, hung lights or wired cables among two or three other people, but your first concert call, that's a pretty crazy day. You show up and sit at a plastic table 20 minutes early, surrounded by 100+ people, everyone is checking gear, tying up laces, strapping themselves into harnesses. I was nervously adjusting the tightness on my hardhat, hoping that it wasn't too shiny so that people would know I'd only worn it once before.
12, grueling, box-pushing, steel lifting and bolting hours later, my arms were worn down, I could barely feel my shoulders, my feet hurt to stand on and I was bleary eyed. The call-steward came over to me and said "Hey, we're trimming down to about a dozen guys for another 4 hours, we saw you work pretty hard, do you want to do the extra call?" My chest swelled with pride, someone noticed! Of course I wanted to work that extra 4 hours. It turned out to be an extra 6 hours, but they flew by. Six and a half hours later, I was catching the morning train home, curled up on a seat while dawn broke across the horizon. You have that moment when your body is bone weary, exhausted. Where every thought hurts to consider, your motions are on autopilot, your feet drag and your head bobs just a little too much. Your eyes are never more than half open. But somehow, in your chest is this feeling of pride. You were part of a huge team, you accomplished something, you got to see in immediacy this kind of interesting creation and know that you were one of the people that made it happen.
I remember my first concert call pretty well. It was 18 hours long, it was the first time I'd been doing a job (and being paid!) where I was surrounded by a lot of similar people and skillsets. You know up until that point I had pushed buttons on a register, delivered boxes, hung lights or wired cables among two or three other people, but your first concert call, that's a pretty crazy day. You show up and sit at a plastic table 20 minutes early, surrounded by 100+ people, everyone is checking gear, tying up laces, strapping themselves into harnesses. I was nervously adjusting the tightness on my hardhat, hoping that it wasn't too shiny so that people would know I'd only worn it once before.
12, grueling, box-pushing, steel lifting and bolting hours later, my arms were worn down, I could barely feel my shoulders, my feet hurt to stand on and I was bleary eyed. The call-steward came over to me and said "Hey, we're trimming down to about a dozen guys for another 4 hours, we saw you work pretty hard, do you want to do the extra call?" My chest swelled with pride, someone noticed! Of course I wanted to work that extra 4 hours. It turned out to be an extra 6 hours, but they flew by. Six and a half hours later, I was catching the morning train home, curled up on a seat while dawn broke across the horizon. You have that moment when your body is bone weary, exhausted. Where every thought hurts to consider, your motions are on autopilot, your feet drag and your head bobs just a little too much. Your eyes are never more than half open. But somehow, in your chest is this feeling of pride. You were part of a huge team, you accomplished something, you got to see in immediacy this kind of interesting creation and know that you were one of the people that made it happen.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Events - Sunday Digital Brunch
Events - Sunday Digital Brunch
I sat down this morning with my breakfast and watched the internet spiral by for a while as I usually do. Keeping up with the unfolding disaster in Calgary, reading the news, both internet based and real world. It's a quiet morning, one roommate already gone to work, the other isn't a morning person. It's langourously sleepy, and for a while, I contemplate going back to taking a nap.
A twitter message pops up, some friends I made from Pax, gamers like me, who are scattered all over the continent.
I smirk, laugh, and then insert my own zany rebuttal. Before I can even finish my tea, the comments and messages are flying fast, dozens of messages, we're roping other people into the conversation, all over twitter! 140 characters doesn't have anything on our reconnecting. Jokes and snarks, more laughter, I'm wide awake.
It's like sunday brunch. You know, when you get together with your friends or your family over a leisurely meal on sunday morning. You have nowhere to be, and nothing to do, you just relax, and reconnect with one another. Except we're separated by literally thousands of miles. We're actually on opposite corners of the continent (somewhat).
But the internet, the speed of connection has made our worlds instantaneously hooked in.
We're just a bunch of friends having brunch (or lunch, or afternoon tea), connecting over laughs.
That's pretty awesome.
I sat down this morning with my breakfast and watched the internet spiral by for a while as I usually do. Keeping up with the unfolding disaster in Calgary, reading the news, both internet based and real world. It's a quiet morning, one roommate already gone to work, the other isn't a morning person. It's langourously sleepy, and for a while, I contemplate going back to taking a nap.
A twitter message pops up, some friends I made from Pax, gamers like me, who are scattered all over the continent.
I smirk, laugh, and then insert my own zany rebuttal. Before I can even finish my tea, the comments and messages are flying fast, dozens of messages, we're roping other people into the conversation, all over twitter! 140 characters doesn't have anything on our reconnecting. Jokes and snarks, more laughter, I'm wide awake.
It's like sunday brunch. You know, when you get together with your friends or your family over a leisurely meal on sunday morning. You have nowhere to be, and nothing to do, you just relax, and reconnect with one another. Except we're separated by literally thousands of miles. We're actually on opposite corners of the continent (somewhat).
But the internet, the speed of connection has made our worlds instantaneously hooked in.
We're just a bunch of friends having brunch (or lunch, or afternoon tea), connecting over laughs.
That's pretty awesome.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Life - On Birthdays
Life - On Birthdays
Once a year, pretty much every 365 days like clockwork, you get to celebrate for 24 hours the fact that you exist. It's kind of a peculiar little thing. You've not actually done anything of real significance to deserve it, other than having continued to consume food and air and just...well living.
Once a year, pretty much every 365 days like clockwork, you get to celebrate for 24 hours the fact that you exist. It's kind of a peculiar little thing. You've not actually done anything of real significance to deserve it, other than having continued to consume food and air and just...well living.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Life - Set Time Aside
Life - Set Time Aside
I have a smart phone. I have a smart phone of the latest brand, and quality, running the latest operating system. I have a smart phone that hooks up to a bluetooth headset that I can control with the sound of my voice, and I'm teaching it to respond to my eye movements (the galaxy s3 is a wonder). I have a computer that is always on, and a myriad of very specific, encrypted ways to get into it from wherever I am so I can access my data, be they pictures, or music, or algorithms, save files, programs, utilities.
I have a smart phone. I have a smart phone of the latest brand, and quality, running the latest operating system. I have a smart phone that hooks up to a bluetooth headset that I can control with the sound of my voice, and I'm teaching it to respond to my eye movements (the galaxy s3 is a wonder). I have a computer that is always on, and a myriad of very specific, encrypted ways to get into it from wherever I am so I can access my data, be they pictures, or music, or algorithms, save files, programs, utilities.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Amanda Palmer - The Art of Asking
Amanda Palmer - The Art of Asking
I just recently watched a quick Ted Talk by Amanda Palmer, called The Art of Asking. It is a pretty recent one and is currently going viral all over the 'interwebs'.
http://www.ted.com/talks/amanda_palmer_the_art_of_asking.html
I'm writing this post as a place holder intending to reflect considerably more on it later. But thought I'd share it for now.
I just recently watched a quick Ted Talk by Amanda Palmer, called The Art of Asking. It is a pretty recent one and is currently going viral all over the 'interwebs'.
http://www.ted.com/talks/amanda_palmer_the_art_of_asking.html
I'm writing this post as a place holder intending to reflect considerably more on it later. But thought I'd share it for now.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Life - Miss and Dance
Life - Miss and Dance
Just one of those funny moments that you sometimes have to catalog. Near misses.
Just one of those funny moments that you sometimes have to catalog. Near misses.
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