howling at dawn, listening

snow was morning breath

Thanks for the kick in the rear.

heARTbeatgal

Here is a little friend I met on the beach in P.E.I.  I think he was hitting on me.

When I wasn’t being bothered by the locals I binged on the non-stop colour and texture of the red isle. So rich and warm , I vacillated between wanting to either eat or roll around in the landscape at near every view. I mostly just took snaps. Click the photo to see a few. Wolf Parade, the Vaccines and Of Montreal provided the soundtrack.

P.E.I. the sleepiest wonder I ever did see. Thank you for your hospitality.

xoxo heARTbeatgal

p.s. Ms. Normal has been trampling all over heARTbeatgal and her ideas. Summer holidays hold promise of finishing at least a few of the many pieces I have started over the Spring.  When will Ms. Normal win the lottery?

I mostly do.

I heART this view of Ottawa.

Thank you Shepard Fairey

heARTbeatgal

to the summer gods

bless

yummy!

life is good

 heARTbeatgal

xxo

Yin

Yang

My heART is full of inspiration.

Get to work gal!

Any one who travels for business knows the heart wrenching experience of landing smack dab in the middle of some amazing exotic locale only to ever experience it from behind the glass of airplane, taxi, and hotel room windows.

Work brought me west to Montana this past week to stew in a mix of Asian-Pacificians (please don’t get me going on the debate between “pacificans” vs. “pacificians”). Montana is a  film strip of one  spectacular image after another.

Psalms 120:5: Woe is me, that I sojourn in Montana, that I dwell in the tents of Big Sky Ski Resort at a very large number of meetings!

“Little miss professional heARTbeatgal” did not leave herself time to do much other than absorb the decadent scenery from behind panes of different glass. But some Zappa will spice it up!

Thanks Montana! xxo

heARTbeatgal

I am lying here remembering when the television used to go off the air at night. That sort of comforting good night message. The last few moments spent watching government of Canada approved tourist shots of our great nation set to a men’s choir rendition of the anthem. Then just the hum. Off the air. It is way past late.

Insomniacs are spoiled now. I miss the simpler times. Like 1986. When all a girl and her soul-sister-gal-pal had were some Night Moves and some stolen rye. And, perhaps a little Night Ride. Gawd, I miss those days!

This one goes out to you Sim Sam Sum! I love you and I know you are going to rock this! See you on the other side. Meet you on the badminton court.

xxo heARTbeatgal

A special soul recently took the time to listen. To my internal organs that is. She is practicing the art of visceral manipulation.

Bless.

From this I learned that my small intestine was feeling a little uptight. Had some stuff to get off her chest (Yes. I imagine her to be female. Right? Liver…male. Obviously. No? ahem…).

Apparently she is super-duper into Adele. Cool. I dig it. She is also in cahoots with my pal to get me to read David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. Ok, ok you two…I get it now. Merci.

“…the air over the table like the sparkling space just above a fresh-poured seltzer.”

And that is just p. 6. I declare! It will be read before June. All gazillion pages.

These words marinade with the earthly soulful thumping of my ear buds. I let my organs, my gut, my viscera, my centre, my intuition, that energy that floats above us all paint a thank you for that special soul that took the time to listen. There were important things for me to hear.

Aviva

If you are interested in learning more about this therapy check Aviva out. heART! I am better since. For realz!

Grateful. AND it’s MAY!!!

heARTbeatgal

Through the great fortune of family re-engineering I managed to collect along the way a totally rockin’ jewish grandmother. While well into her nineties, she was so completely au courant we never spent enough time talking about her early days. Quel dommage.  It will soon be a year since she passed. I think of her often.

A few days ago I spent time peeking with great reverence through a box of her things,  a curious yet comforting number of items. In the box was a handsome well-worn copy of the Naomi Cook Book, Toronto 1928. This past week I carefully flipped through each page many times.

Take a peek at these snaps to understand why I am in love…

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For a closer look click.

Thank you Lenore for all the inspiration.

You rock! …and I feel a painting coming on.

Olivia