communication.

busting open. and breaking down. the barriers. that divide.

and communication.

a desire for something. open. with words. and knowledge.

a city that speaks. yells. shouts.

words painted on every wall.

busting open and breaking down the notion of gender.

the concept of all concepts.

keeping me up at night.

haunting my sleep.

and i write reports about collaboration and communication.

how are health care professionals taught to communicate? is the question.

and why are they taught so differently?

something so simple.

how are people taught to communicate?

and what is communication?

why are we so mean?

and power....like a cape...people draped in power.

sweet sweet power destroys communication and is the biggest barrier.

the barrier of all barriers.

like gender.

just a barrier.

and i walk into this weekend filled questions.

and a desire. for something as simple as communication.

open.

cross roads.

and wide open.

like the sky.

these days.

forms.

and an application.

for a future......

i explode.

with idea.

for film.

and paper.

pen.

word.

presentations like rain.

a coming together.

something more meant to be than anything.

no denying.

and i'm full for you.

for this.

for words.

and idea.

a future.

right.

here.

collaboration

Learning about the learning these days.
About the teaching and the power.
The dynamics that keep us separated from one another.
Papers and dialogue.
Words and writing.

I wish I could turn this into the art I see it as.

I wish I could show them through my lens....
how I see this teaching, learning, power dynamic.

GID

something is testing my limits.

pushing me to the edges.

yesterday.

another meeting.

board room.

"Gender Identity Disorder."

something is testing me.

but showing me.

the other side.

the way "they" operate.

and it makes my voice louder.

i stand taller.

something is happening

here.

tensions.

an interesting day.

i attended a medical research day conference.

swanky.

a room. covered in medical students, "professionals"...

and me.

it started with a type of speech or presentation.

something along the lines of "Qualitative research can carry a lot of useful information, i think"

and my attention was caught.

questions. with answers.

and language.

no one's doing anything about language.

a common ground?

how are we supposed to understand one another?

work collaboratively?

and my research meant nothing today.

quantitative. graphs. medication. and so it started.

i carried myself with a smile.

but had little to share.

because my interests were not interesting today.

at medical research day.

and then something.

another presentation. 

a whole slot of presentations allocated to interprofessional education and collaboration.

something brilliant.

the notion of power.

an interest in power/knowledge - Foucault.

the medical gaze.

i watched as the doctor's squirmed in their seats.

tension.

tension.

tension.

i am learning about education.

about the way health care professionals are educated.

about the way they could be educated...to work collaboratively.

to decrease or eliminate stereotypes and hierarchy. the tensions that separate them from one another.

but mostly..an education design that could possibly improve the quality of health care...

and it's interesting.

fascinating at times.

but today was something else...

in those rooms.

with those people.

today was observation and tension.

i could spend all night rewriting what today was.

but instead i'll take a bath and wash it off.

search(ing).

something new to wake up to.

with people. and voices on paper.

silence.

this is education.

and i'm learning. or absorbing.

interprofessional education and collaboration.

the collaboration piece intrigues me.

and language.

finding a common language. 

or something to communicate with.

so that we could collaborate.

full. and filling.

with thought.

and pages.

..

this weekend marked an official end and beginning.

paper in hand.

proud and tall.

tears and sweat.

this isn't over yet.

..

i feel so close to something.

but not really there yet...

together.

a group. or people.

in collaboration.

an installation.

a piece of art.

your heart.

with words.

and silence.

so much.

and people.

filling.

with drums.

and smoke.

ideas.

or thoughts.

something to share.

or speak for.

and it's good.

.

the cat sleeps.

and the sky is cold.

this is turning.

changing.

.

i'm slowly reading a book. about love.

and mixed up.

with revelations.

.

autumn. 

and art. is keeping me

awake at night.

.

i dreamt of you.

.

and i'm learning

how to speak 

louder

these days..

awake.

the night was mixed with dreams.

streets and liquid.

people.

fast paced.

and i woke up.

with power launching out.

of my heart. or chest plate.

an opportunity. with growth.

and connections.

my life. 

is here.

and there's a research project.

waiting.

for my mind.

leaving to the woods for 4 days.

and i woke up 

aligned. again.

this is..

exciting.

opening.

we did find home. or something like it.

and last night. with the fullness of the moon.

i broke-down.

i miss school so much.

truly.

the university environment.

the unlearning. relearning. learning.

reading. writing.

an interview and a half.

and a PhD program...

i could do this.

i could.

my passion is overwhelming.

a door has opened.

we found a house.

i know home.

the moon is full.

and there's something i need.

to do. with this. feeling.

written.

a writing exercise.

a written exercise.

or something that might be taken along.

and later remembered. in the years. to come.

a familiar face.

or a gesture.

something that makes sense.

or feels like something else once did.

autumn begins.

and everything becomes relative.

relatively complicated.

a truth in memory.

a decade.

and he remembers the sound 

of pen to paper.

a shy girl. a young girl.

complex.

he remembers the "irony" in my written work.

or storytelling.

stories told long ago.

4-7pm.

and everyday of the week.

i wake up early.

because sleep doesn't come easy in the autumn.

and i am fierce with love.

the book store makes me weak in the knees.

i fall to the ground.

and try to absorb knowledge.

my mind is a corn field.

and i have a deal with detail.

every line eventually bleeds into the next.

but still i notice.

sometimes we rest on the surface.

but home is deep underneath.

and perhaps someday we could sit

with a bottle of wine 

and have a full fledge conversation

about meaning.

or start with

something to talk about.

like 365 days ago..

wonderful.

the final discussion went well. and the room. was filled.

with energy.

and it was such an honour. for me. to have two brilliant minds. 

two brilliant people. who i truly admire.

listening. and hearing. me. speak this.

the evening. was celebrated. with champagne and chocolate.

flowers and open skies.

and now. my head pounds with a pulse.

a build up or release.

emotions.

and in the morning. an email.

from Stephen Hwang at the Centre for Research on Inner City Health.

an invitation. to send my resume. to meet and discuss.

.

and there's this life living inside of me.

and there's this need to keep on keeping it on. all of the time.

..

focus. relax. breathe.

this is all beautiful.

with no end in sight.

.

i am thankful.

and i hope.

that you keep reading...

this.

start-end-start

a new beginning. all the time.

my neighbor's kids who i babysat every weekend from the age of 12 to 16, 17.

one just turned 16. he just got his drivers liscence. i remember him before he was born.

his brother. moved out this weekend. first year of university.

and the whole thing touched my heart. like almost everything does.

the kids have grown. they are big.

a new beginning.

and today.

i put together some words. to sum it up. or something.

a welcoming for a group of people's new start.

my grandmother can't breathe. she will probably die really soon.

another beginning. or ending. or something.

and tomorrow.

i've been waiting.

for years for this.

it was a start with so many starts.

and now it ends with a beginning.

..

i am bundles of nerves.

and happiness.

but mostly nerves.

right now.

full circle.

365 days ago and i was phoning Geoffrey from Germany.

i was phoning. to find out.

and i remember.

365 days ago. he said i was the first person on the waiting list.

tears. and passion.

all the way from far away.

and i remember. every wish i found.

i wished.

365 days ago.

and i've re-built myself into myself.

standing in the book store last night.

my eyes. huge. massive.

books i would have never looked at before. 365 days.

..

it's just really something.

this growth.

inside of me.

..

these feelings. come easy.

...

and i've been trying to understand.

the workings of the human heart.

i've been trying to grasp an understanding.

...

and i keep going back to the alignment of things.

...

365 days.

in line.

...

dreamt about a young boy.

homeless.

i only had a dollar.

he wanted a shower.

i let him in to use the shower.

scared. or something.

i was protective.

and it was strange.

there was a woman. in my room.

making fun of him because he was 16.

and so it went.

woke up early.

and the image of his eyes have stuck in my mind.

...

and so i will use his eyes to go through this day.

and maybe things will be different.

again.

[you] cultivate.

searching.

for a way.

to put it all together.

to sum it up.

searching for words. with meaning.

to represent. exactly just what this all is. 

to me.

like paint. with dialogue.

and i like the way you cultivate.

my imagination.

i like it.

searching. now.

for a way.

to show. you.

what this means.

and what you've done.

and today is all bright.

and i am pockets full of feeling.

like the way you. cultivate. this.

i will find words.

to explain.

pockets.

like these things or moments that we're moving closer to.

closer to.

i'm moving. inside. and closer.

103 pages and 365 days later. i'm here. still.

with this recording device.

waiting. quietly. to listen.

to your story.

or something like it.

and i want to be part of this weave.

lacing myself into a knot. i'm here. still.

and sometimes the green is just so green.

and sometimes my heart explodes inside.

103 pages. a film. and something we might discuss.

some things that we may discuss.

a train ride. and my pocket is full of petals.

the cat whispers softly. 

and my skin is coated. with rage.

(silence). 

and words.

so many words. and paragraphs.

exploding from my heart.

today.

r e a d y .

already there.

and i'm all ready.

trying.

to get.

there.

bought a book about love.

or something like it.

and i've been so tired.

dragging.

myself.

and done.

again.

it's all ready.

a book with words and pages that fit perfectly.

into your hands.

your hands.

it's ready now.

and i'm ready. too.

and this.

a recommendation. a test. a feeling. 

something in between the in-between of it all.

and the sky is bright with sun today.

and i am...today.

a project. an idea. a connection.

something we can talk about.

with words. hands. and silence.

there are trees that grow. in my head.

shadows that move. and i'm wide awake.

i'm wide awake now.

my chest plate whispers.

typewriters and tea.

autumn. jazz. red wine.

i'm raging for canvas and paint.

and you. with a sketch. or drawing.

something. that we. can talk about.

oh gosh.

early morning appointments. 

and tests. and tests. and tests.

the body amazes me.

and i move forward.

backwards.

somewhere in between.

the body.

my body.

this body.

not much time.

the days are speeding up.

and it's after..august.

something to complete.

and my body is shifting. drifting. again.

..

un-conditioned.

a meeting.  with alignment. substance. 

a marriage of words. with pulses.

that beat through. beneath the chest. plate.

heart.

something to feel for. 

with language. and hands. that move. silently.

significance. with caring.

understanding. with truth. 

and no conditions.

these things. and so much. more.

mountains. or ocean. 

people we can present for.

a project. or thought.

in line.

aligned.

generosity. with gratitude. 

time and place.

this is.

you are.

and so much. more.

all this hard work...

365 days. and i remember when.

i was. on a waiting list.

waiting. hoping.

365 and the time has passed again.

a movie in the making.

and so much to think about.

the city feels full.

and filling with..

something.

some things and i remember.

these projects. this art.

and i'm closer now.

to that feeling.

..

all this time.

all this work.

and there is so much passion here.

365 days and i never want it to end.

to here.

august or something after.

and dreams that woke me. but made it hard to wake.

eleven hours. and today the world aligned. in line.

i killed the pain.

and the ants spoke in great detail. to me.

today.

i am forward.

and things are coming together.

change brings sadness.

and it's good. and filling.

but the closer i get.

and with autumn.

these things change.

an opening.

or a meeting.

an alignment.

..

things are just as they are meant to be..today.

c l o s e r .

this writing comes natural.

and these feelings are real.

everyday. all the time.

.

i have a completed first draft.

i only need to put my photographs into the document.

.

i had a discussion. filled with questions.

and i had all the answers.

it was surprising.

and i've been learning so much.

this has taught me.

.

g r o w t h 

.

and a future project on my mind.

with creation.

.

my next step now is to begin my short film.

.

i can't believe it's almost august.

i have spent the summer in the library!

.

feeling a bit nervous about finding a job.

and i'm trying to network with people.

met a woman from sick kids.

and i hope...

.

hope.

people.

60 pages. or something like it.

and i keep reaching points.

full and empty.

this consumes my mind. 

at night, i dream of homelessness.

something to change. or fight for.

educate. learn. unlearn.

and i am surrounded by ignorance.

people understand less and less...as i grow.

further. farther. far.

60 pages into this. proud.

and then this morning a "friend" said to me:

 "that's great. all this work and then when it's done, it will just sit on your hard-drive. no one's going to read it"

discouraged. encouraged.

..

i will make sure people read this.

change.

another meeting. and your words. 

are like progress. 

pages filled and filling. still.

there's an organization to this.

excitement. or something like it.

and my dreams are so strange. at night.

gender. gender. gender.

i am haunted by gender. and this sweet, sweet city stirs me.

inside out.

words. and something more. to tell. or speak about.

this is progress. 

i'm getting there. 

and a studio. with paint. and film. massive canvas and windows.

a bridge. dictionaries. conversation with silence.

all these things. i could share.

..

and gender.

help me find a way to get through. and get the world to think.

more like this. or you.

please.

.

and this project is fascinating...

to me.

pound..think..

i've had a migraine for days.

this is my 4th morning waking up with a beating pulse.

and it's hard to formulate sentences like this. in this state.

but i've been trying.

and my goal was to have 60 pages written by July 14th.

today is July 8th and i've just about got 39 pages.

i think i am focusing on too many sections at the same time.

i need to stop that; it makes me feel overwhelmed.

.

i have several main arguments that i would like to prove.

but i'm having a difficult time locating "strong/convincing" resources.

.

.

i wonder if it's "okay" to quote the bible in my MRP?!

breathing.

just breathe and work. she says.

and i hit these points where words feel impossible.

i am a feeling. and i don't know words for this.

tired. or exhausted.

hitting a point.

she says it's part of the process.

and today is just one of those days.

34 pages into this. and something in me struggles.

.

heading North for the weekend.

i'll build a fire and clarity will come.

.

just breathe.

enters in.

this work penetrates my heart.

another way.

Pride was wonderful, powerful, filling, tiring, overwhelming, and hot!

i videotaped until my hands could not function anymore.

and through the crowds of people i searched for faces and moments.

i absolutely loved being behind a lens.

.

i learned that i really need to get a spare battery for my camcorder : (

.

and it was interesting to see who was at Pride and who was not.

SHOUT was there.

519 was there.

SOY was there.

i did not see Evergreen or Covenant House.

.

there was no float for queer homeless youth. meanwhile, a huge proportion of homeless youth are queer.

.

.

as i continue the process of writing and reading. i am learning that i may not be able to devote a section of writing to "my story". i hold a lot of shame and guilt. i feel embarrassed for my family..not embarrassed of myself, but of them and their actions.

i have found another way to tell this story and i will have to see if this form is "allowed/acceptable".

it is an art piece that i have already begun..with words and images and paint and paper and pages. a type of zine perhaps.

my own story. from the inside. out.

.

another way to tell "my story".

PRIDE

i've always liked pride, but i've never felt as excited for it as i do this year.

this year pride is like christmas.

every year on the sunday i never miss the P-Flag float. i never ever miss it.

and i always cry. every single time. i cry. 

and this year i'll have a lens to look through..

.

this is my 10th pride. and it was 7 years ago now that i came out to my family.

every pride marks us further away from those painful memories.

.

and i find myself thinking about the 5 youth i interviewed and how they all had something to say about pride. different stories. different lives.

and the one. this is his first Toronto pride. and he said something about something. a plan to do as much. and drugs. as much. and then afterwards to go to an over night detox centre. afterwards. when pride is over. and i hope. i hope he's alright.

.

like a birth.

this is my something to focus on. and to be inside of.

this is mine to share and to be with.

today the sun explodes out of the sky and into my skin.

into my thoughts.

with happy. words. and text.

something to show. and tell. 

talk about.

.

i met with stephen yesterday. and i felt encouraged and proud.

the meeting went well.

and i spoke about my desire to push and pull for a 'queer shelter'.

and we spoke about punk and graffiti and art.

.

today i met with nancy.

as always it felt clear. like open skies.

and energized with sun. and brightness.

something to look into.

and forward to.

.

i am feeling so thankful for having such a supportive, encouraging, and really spectacular team behind/beside me during this phase of my Master's.

it's really something.

and this is like a pregnancy. (although i've never been pregnant!). with midwives. or something like that.

somedays feel really painful. and other days are just beautiful with magic.

and soon. in a matter of months i will give birth to our very own "document".

i will care for it. and i will present it to the ones that helped me most.

.

this energy here. right now. is damn good.

beginning.

and i'm beginning with the method.

the way it happened.

the words are slowly flowing out of me.

i think i need to just write and be okay with whatever i write now.

rather than beat myself up for not being "good enough".

because i don't even know what "good enough" looks like anymore.

.

and this weekend is Pride.

i will take my camcorder everywhere i go.

.

Pride feels different to me this year than any other year.

i think this project has a lot to do with that difference.

.

and tomorrow i have a meeting with Stephen. to go over my work to date.

it's been a long time since we last met.

.

back to method.

and i must forget about "good enough"...

i must engage with the keys, the words and the experience.

.

i must.

exploding.

and if i let the words sit in my mind for long enough. with music. and trees. with time. they float out in a stream. of consciousness. and they float. out.

soon. in 24 hours the words will hatch.

i am ready.

i can feel this. warming.

and this weekend i showed 2 photos at "delight". the space felt good. and open. and i long for studios with wide, old windows.

and the space was a documentary film company. i've been feeling brave lately, so i spoke to the person who "manages/runs" the company. and i told him about my interest in film and social change and so on. and they are currently working on a film about homelessness and children in Canada. wow. and the conversation was a shift or a pull. a desire to be further involved. and to really share my research. or to make it something that can be shared. good enough.

and then this morning the director from CTYS emailed me back and she would like to meet with me and the research director. and so i feel nervous with energy and enthusiasm. and hope. that i can be seen. from the inside. 

.

24 more hours to go. this passion is explosive..

full and empty.

twice in one day. again.

i think this journal is like safety or something.

my hidden world in a world.

and today is just a shitty day.

that's all there is to it.

.

i woke up with great intentions to begin writing myself down.

and i didn't get far.

i wrote "my story".

and then the weight of the world again. in my heart.

and i can't find words to describe these feelings.

but, how do i even begin writing about a world that is so full of pain and harm.

how do i do it?

i want my paper to be powerful and i want to go directly to the heart.

i want to show how much we hurt each other. how much more gentle we need to be to people.

.

oh gosh.

it's a full moon.

and i guess this is what happens to me when the moon is full.

.

i fill.

and empty.

language.

i found class interesting yesterday. there were a lot of great ideas presented. we certainly are a diverse group.

however, i couldn't help but find a lot of the language that people used...restrictive...or something like it.

i found words like: "behavioural", "disorder", "behaviours", "diagnosis" used often.

i understand that we all have different understandings of what words mean, but still there is something that feels so pathologizing in the classroom, in the students.

and i wish that people spoke more about the language they use and what they truly mean when they say what they say.

.

i feel relieved to be done my presentation, although it was just a short presentation i felt quite nervous, maybe because this work runs through my veins.

.

i have a meeting setting up with stephen for next wednesday, as it's been a long long while since we last met. i look forward to showing him where i am at and to hearing his feedback.

. 

and now my plans are to write...write...write...and see where that takes me.

truth.

and it's amazing how energy can shift.

as soon as i got to school today.

i feel the weight of the world in my heart.

this week is "convocation" at York and there are students graduating, walking around in their graduation robes and caps. and other students working hard. stressing out. and i sink. absorb. it all comes into me. the energies collide. and i don't know how i feel or what i've done.

perhaps i have a problem with my confidence level. it's like i push myself so far into something and i forget how well i've done and how important this work is.

i'm hoping for another shift in energy, as this doesn't feel comfortable.

yesterday.

and maybe if i would have spent a little more time thinking. or opened my mind a bit more. i would have grasped an immediate understanding.

and i will not be including trans youth in my definition of queer. i did not interview any trans youth and i think as a queer person working on an important project like this i need to think about the people who might not have an understanding of what "queer" means or what "trans" means and the two are often conflated into one. Not all trans people are queer.

and through my research i have learned that shelters in Canada are extremely behind in their "trans policies", although there are some shelters that are more "sensitive". But being "sensitive" is not good enough, and for this reason i will not include the "T" in LGB..

There is so much transphobia within society, even so in the queer community. and all of this is enough of a reason for another project to begin. But not now...later.

...

and today i will present my research to the class. 

i hope. it goes. well.

and lately i've been wishing for a cabin. with water. and fire. and great big trees.

a cabin filled with books and words. pocket sized dictionaries. and good food.

early morning deers.

late night moon. wide awake. with water.

and birch.

barefoot.

typewriter.

i've been dreaming. and lately i've had a wish for this.

..

feeling.

today we are back to class. until wednesday.

and as the days pass i feel this powerful pressure feeling. i hope i am on the right track with my work. 

and i think i need to set up a couple of meetings to discuss the chapters of my MRP and the length of each.

i also think i need to just write and not think so much.

.

and the more time i spend with all of this literature and all of these words the more evident it is to me that i want to be a part of something big for queer homeless youth. i want to open a shelter with services. a place where there doesn't have to be that fear of being bashed or judged...

.

and i got a camcorder. a small one. small enough to carry in my hand while i'm walking around.  i've wanted one for so long. and it's funny. because i haven't been using it. although i just got it. i need to sit with it for a while. 

like these feelings and ideas...

lists.

Yesterday i met with a person named Spencer. A random sort of meeting. A month or two ago he overheard a conversation between 2 of my classmates on the bus. And so it happened.  It was really nice to sit with him and Kristin and discuss our various interests and projects.

And i've been thinking lately..of art installations. Great big pieces. Huge. Massive. with space to take up. And i've been thinking of lists. i love lists:

1. art.

2. massive canvas.

3. late night. early morning.

4. train tracks and ice cream truck music.

5. hot air balloons.

6. safety.

7. words like butter.

8. gobase.

9. wires and pipes.

10. fields and studios.

..

something to work towards.

and to keep things in order. or something like it.

..

and i've completed coding the last 2 interviews.

today i will prepare my presentation for next week..

cartwheels and happy.

i spent this entire day transcribing my last 2 interviews. all day. with several breaks in between. started around 9am and just finished (it's 8.15pm).

damn, i feel good!

Nothing left to transcribe. i just have to code those last 2 interviews.

i'm not sure why i spent so many hours finishing them up today. i think i just want the transcribing and coding to be done for classes next week. i think i just hate it when people make me feel like i can't do something.

and so, now i've done it...i've interviewed 5 youth and 5 managers/supervisors at various services. i interviewed 10 people and i transcribed those interviews. 

: )

it's good to have some confidence....it took a while.

anyhow, i'm done for today and i feel like doing cartwheels! 

update

My literature review is complete. I found it challenging trying to get it all into 12 pages. There is always so much to say about this research and about previous research on this topic.

I am now in the process of finishing up my transcribing. I mostly feel on track and very motivated, but I have my moments and fear that I will not be done in time.

Last night I went to Buddies for the launch of the CTYS resource guide for parents of trans youth.

It was extremely moving. So many wonderful people who had worked so hard to make the guide. And so many wonderful parents of trans youth were there.

I introduced myself to the "executive director of CTYS" and told her a bit about my research and my interest in CTYS. She was really nice and asked me to email her.  

I can see myself working at a place like CTYS in the future.

Next week we are back in class. I very interested in hearing about my classmates' research. I'm looking forward to being back in class!

questions.

he wasn't asking for any. but i had some. and he wasn't asking. but i was giving. and so the story went. and maybe because i held him in my eyes for so long as i walked through in search of the perfect 'wish'. it doesn't really even matter all that much. tokens and money. and he just wanted burger king. and there was something in his eyes. or mind. there was something. and i could have stayed for longer. but i don't know if he knew. and maybe he thought i was scared. or something.

.

and if there was the option to insert a recording device into my eyes..i'd do it. i'd take it. because when the leaves fell this afternoon. it was really something.

and if there was the option to insert a recording device into my mind..i'd do it too. because when i remembered the way i felt finding acorns as a child. it was really something.

.

and last night i went to the cyndi lauper concert. and she spoke about homophobia in the school. and there was a lot of talking about all of this discrimination and having to "come out" and so on. it struck me deep inside. like the way Eli Clare's book is. and has.

.

all of this reading i am doing for my MRP is...

my voice feels louder all of a sudden.

and there is no hiding. no trying. there is no nothing.

.

and all of us.

we just are.

.

and someone said something about 'acceptance'.

and i have to question that.

'acceptance' of what?

.

and why are we forced to 'come out' as 'gay'.

and why do we have to fight for safety?

and why are so many people without a home because they just are...

.

these are questions.

and the more i read the more i question....

.

and he wasn't asking.

but i was giving.

amazed.

and in the morning. there are always birds with pieces of 'home' in their mouths. they are building shelter. and a place to be.

and in the morning. it rained so hard. with words and language falling from the ceiling.

i sat there. amazed.

i have been working on my lit review. and there is so much to read. everytime i think i've got it. i find so much more. meaning. and then i begin again. with piles upon piles. i am drenched in words. and in the library, with all its books. i sit here and fall over. 

highlight. re-write. write. re-write. i don't want to forget a thing. i want to be filled by this...

parallel lines.

and it's strange. the way the world works. and things align. everything comes into line.

the lines. the parallel numbers. it's really something. and today when i came back to my computer. it was filled with messages. and it just all came into line. the possibility.

p o s s i b i l i t i e s .

and i'm just two transcriptions away now. into the second last. and the ideas are alive. in me.

and if i had the time. or the equipment...or knowledge maybe...i'd make a film out of this all. a real film. something with movement. or the ability to. but for now. i'll just have to use my little program here and make something with what i've got.

..

today we have numbers. 

and my first draft should be complete by the beginning of July. and my final discussion is on September 3. 10am.  

scary but good. these are important dates and it's important for me to have dates set aside. as it makes it real for me. in my head.

and on my way. in the morning. i saw a wasp carry a dead caterpillar. and i watched in amazement. almost missed the bus.

and then everything aligned itself. with numbers and language.

and i've been thinking so much about drawing. and painting. 

life drawing.  or drawing life. 

and i think that maybe with the alignment of numbers and words...we need to be drawn.

drawn to. and drawn out. on paper. and sheets..

..in between parallel lines. 

connected.

it's like all the listening has produced space. or something.

and this research with its project and people and stories.

there is something that has teared open my heart. at its seams. where it was broken. before.

and the memories ooze out. or something.

all this coding has got me thinking. about coding and codes. and how it's just that that really damages and destroys and creates conflict.

all the fighting. all the codes. and change.

and perhaps i've chosen the best possible topic to do research on. and perhaps this is where my life needs to be. i think about all the people. about this world. about all the broken families. and situations. and how many youth are abused for just being. for breaking out of certain codes.

i think about "coming out" and only hope for a day when there will be no such a thing as having to "come out". 

i am brewing and stirred inside. i stir myself. and this brews me. inside.

i want to work with queer youth who are involved in abusive family situations.

i've never felt this so strong inside. when i first started my Master's i remember speaking to Nancy and saying that i want to do research connected to homeless youth. and i remember her asking me if i want it to be "queer" youth. i said no.

and perhaps i've been running away. or pushing this all deep inside. where it brews and stirs.

but today i feel broken. through. and out.

today i am pulsing and pushing at the seams of my heart...

listening.

this morning the bus didn't stop for me. and i think that maybe i was invisible for a moment. and the caterpillars surrounded me. and we walked together. to the next bus. the caterpillars and i.

in their pillars. with legs. and words. and something in between.

yesterday i transcribed a very full document. with words dripping off the sheets of paper. so much was said. and i listened while she spoke on that Monday morning back in April. but i heard it differently this time. and full. with filling. this feels like the base. or the hard drive. her words. and ideas.

"Every youth has a right to be here. Every youth has the right to be treated with dignity and with respect...It seems so simple."

and today i play with words. and findings. today i read and write. and i am working on my literature review. and there is so much to be reviewed. and read. 

and it's really something. this research. re-search. i re-search and re-search until i find what someone else found before.

and it's just something. and all this reading about the abuse and the violence. for what? for having a queer identity.

so many youth are homeless. home less. because their parents don't agree with their "sexual orientation". damn. i would like to re-orient them in their minds. the parents. the power. people have. so much. power. and i wonder. when this world will change. 

breathe.

i feel too much. and will most likely smash a lot of glass throughout the process of this research. 

breathe. 

this is alive. like my heart. in my heart. these words. these findings. i don't just read them. they beat against and into my heart...

drip.

somebody wrote the word 'give' in black with marker, pretty much all over the city. wherever i look..wherever i go i see it. 

i wrote the word 'hope' in red with spray paint, everywhere i went a few years back.

and there's this nostaligia or something. with the smell of summer. or spring. and research. with words. and meaning. there's something in the air.

and i remember when. and in the morning i dream of massive canvas. with wide open space. and pocket dictionaries. and paint with colour. i dream of these things. 

and on my way to the bus i stop and i watch caterpillars. in their pillars.

and i dream of wind without rain.

and it's strange that somebody wrote the word 'give'. just recently. everywhere. in every place.

every 11 seconds the word. with its meaning. and i think i'm dripping over the edge with idea. 

or formation. and i need to get to the l i b r a r y. now. for coding. and understanding..

new york.

and so things are like puzzle pieces in my head these days. and it's coming together.

and my research has brought on ideas for new projects. a participant that i interviewed brought up the idea to create a resource guide. i am thinking that this would be a great side project, as it is so needed and i am sure it would help so many youth out there.

.

i spent the last 4 days in new york. the graffiti was good for my mind and for my heart. it was a hectic 4 days and i was pretty annoyed by all the noise and people. i think my body was craving something more peaceful. 

but, i found something of interest in a local gay magazine. "The Ali Forney Center"-"where homeless LGBT youth are sheltered, housed and assisted in becoming safe, healthy and independent young adults" and the website brought me to some really great articles.

so even though i found new york to be very stressful and annoying, i did find resources for my MRP! and beautiful art.

.

today is Friday and i feel like next week will and should be spent in the library-coding and writing...

again.

and what does it mean to "come out". i've been thinking and wondering. and there's this constant sort of negotiation thing that happens, especially when you're young or first "coming out". and it's hard. not easy. the coming out. the process. the words. language. space.

and i spent the entire day yesterday transcribing one interview. i don't know what it was that took me so many hours. i needed time to process the words in my own body. and to listen and re-listen and really hear what he was saying to me. and "we need a gay shelter" "we need a gay shelter" "we really NEED a gay shelter". i woke up with his voice in my head. and these words. and this whole "coming out" thing. and something along the lines of "every place i've lived in, i've had to deal with homophobia". and damn. this city. these people. this h o m o p h o b i a .

these words feel so 7 years ago. but i knew when i started this project that these feelings. memories. all these things would rise up again. 

i don't want this to be so much about me or my experience. but something about yesterday. the words. the words. the words. something in them, awoke something in me. again.

a mixture.

"when everything is lonely I can be own best friend, I get a coffee and the paper; have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection. The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit"

...

and i've been thinking. about methodology. methods. the ways we go about doing what we do. how we choose our system. of methods.

and i don't know that i really chose my methods in any particular way. i feel like i just knew. or something. it was there. inside. right from the start. and this whole project. is like something that has been in me for a while. waiting. to come out.

c o m e   o u t .

this project comes out and it brings so much out. it brings out truth.

-

and something in me feels tired. on sunday, babsy and i will go to new york for 4 days to visit my brother. we will look at art. and take photos. and write words on walls. and it will be good. for rest. or for something. it feels important to get away right now for a bit.

and i know that all of this is just beginning now.

the coming out. the truth. the words. the stories. the methods. this system. is only just starting now..

-

i am reading a book called: 'runaway-diary of a street kid' It's a published journal of a 14 year old girl's experience with homelessness. i'm reading it amongst so many other books and articles. i think it's important for me to almost bombard my brain right now. i need to overload myself with information and words for a little while. i like how it affects my sleep and my dreams. it affects my existence. and the way that i interact with people. but, it's also important for this project and for my writing.

-

it's important to know and to listen to what is necessary and needed. like the overload of books, new york, these things. are all important parts of the process.

and ofcourse for me, gobase-my little cat man in the photo. he is the most important. and he helps me think and understand these things through..

-

"I've got a flask inside my pocket, we can share it on the train. If you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same. We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain. What was normal in the evening, by the morning seems insane" (bright eyes)

imagine.

And yesterday we spoke about knowledge and imagination and writing.

We wrote for 20 minutes. And right before we wrote i think she said something about metaphor. Something about not revealing or not completely uncovering. Something about something that will allow the reader to imagine. 

imagination. image-in-nation. image-nation.

i imagine this. and i wrote pages upon pages about image-nation and about knowledge.

And she wonders about knowledge and where it comes from. or where we think it comes from.

i imagine. knowledge. comes from nature. knowledge as. embedded in the air. in the earth. in the trees. the little birds that my eyes carry.

And i also imagine that there is toxic knowledge. and people are so consumed with themselves and with pace. i imagine this.

There is so much we can learn in the forest. for rest. the birds show us which berries are poisonous. the ants tell us when it is going to rain...

There is so much. and we talk about knowledge. but how often do we talk about nature?

...

Uncovering and revealing. Time is passing. and there is so much that i would like to say. speak. learn.

and i wonder what everyone else wrote about during those 20 minutes.

and i wonder what you think about this interpretation of knowledge.