I grew up by lakes and streams
Simpler things
People were
Quiet and
They didn’t pay you any mind
If you gave them no reason to

We lived
We breathed
We just

Now oceanside
These tides are different
Everyone moves fast
Like all they care about
Is being noticed
They lack
In purpose
In intent
In sincerity

Maybe bigger isn’t better

The freedom of no horizon
Seems fanciful
But where do you go
When you feel






For as long as I can remember, I have loved being surrounded by it…

Walking along the shore

Most of all:
The Rain

I haven’t owned an umbrella in over 6 years. On the rare occasion I will borrow one, I just don’t find much use. It’s an odd decision for someone who lives in a city like Vancouver, where, everybody always carries one‚Ķeven when it snows, evidently.

I love the way it beats off my face. While the denizens of this city shelter under oversized umbrellas, I look to the skies and let the rain wash the worries from my face…

I feel renewed.

There’s something about coastal rain that is especially satisfying. The saltiness. The cool breeze. It soaks through to your bones. While many lament this, the cold bothers them, it makes me feel alive and rejuvenated. In a perfect world where fantasy is reality, I would be a mariner. I have a recurring dream that speaks to this alternate existence; one that teases and taunts of a life that I can only imagine having.

While many people seek shelter from a storm, I relish in it.

It’s my one connection to a vast sea, full of dark mysteries and great adventures.