That pure, unadulterated productivity. I was recently told in an internship (in the creative field) that “It doesn’t matter how to get ‘X’ - just get it.” Maybe this was meant as some kind of motivation to be self-directive and materialize an idea or plan. The message it left with me was ‘don’t care much about the process. We only care about the result’. It was this, that went against everything natural in me. This was one of the reasons why I walked away from the job.

Creativity, for me, is a pursuit that happens spontaneously. In the dark. Made most special with another by your side, stepping into the imaginationatory abyss with you. Maybe this is a mentor or someone who truly cares for you. Creativity needs support. Newness needs tenderness. Openness needs understanding. These are the values I live by. This is the soil where my flowers are tended, reaching up towards the open sky.

I made up this term today [this isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last] after saying to a friend that, “I am beginning to see the light at the end of the slump-tunnel.” It’s certainly not the most pleasant sounding term, but I think it conveys it’s meaning well.

The word ‘slump’ has a few meanings. One, is the physical ‘falling or leaning over’ of something or someone, and two, is a period of financial lows. Used less formally, a ‘slump’ is used to describe a time of depression (ie. “I’m in a slump,” she said, between a mouth full of Oreo cookie).

Anytime I find myself in a place as such (a ‘rut’, if you will), I always know that I will get through it. I will indeed make it to the other side. It was in the spirit of this notion that the term ‘slump-tunnel’ came to be. A tunnel is a passageway. And as we all know, there is light at the end of it to look forward to (ie. “There...

Physical, mental, energetic - we’ve got ‘em. They may span more broad, or in some respects, more narrow than another. Regardless, limits act as a receptacle for the aspects of life. They frame the quality of what we do.

Just yesterday, I was tutoring a young man (he is 9 years old) and at the start of the session, got him to complete a punctuation and grammar quiz. After the exasperated sigh of ultimate 'noooo’, he picked up his pen and wrote as I dictated. His mark at the end had him feeling disappointed; only 3 out of 10.

“Now” I said, “We’re going to do the test again at the end [his eyes dramatically widened with concern] …and I promise you, your mark will improve.”

Nearing the end of our session and our second-chance quiz, I prepared him by telling him that I’d give him 3 minutes to look over his work before I check it. The first time, I had given him 1 minute (plenty of time...

A wise man once told me that as long as I know where my feet are, I’m not lost. Not that I have an aversion to being lost. But sometimes, it gets to be too much. When all the up-side-downs add up to disorientation - as if the roller coaster that was such a thrill has suddenly stopped mid-way through the loop. It’s ok for a few seconds - exhilarating even. But after a while, it becomes scary. You become tense, you start to worry… “How long am I going to stay here?!” And when there’s no answer, panic sets in…

What is it about right now, that scares us so? What is it about the fact that this is easily the most alive we will ever feel, that makes us want to run away? Makes us want to throw away the opportunity to take responsibility here? Maybe no one will understand this but me… but I have to write it anyway.

It’s my secret.

Sometimes, I feel so alive, I feel terrified. The awareness...

Everything is moving so quickly. I savour the moments spent with humans who can slow down. The ones who look you in the eyes and whose heart is still in the presence of unwanting. Uncraving. Unabashed.

Writing slows me down. Makes me concentrate my thoughts. It teaches me to share. And if you’re not watching Netflix (or, if you can’t turn the Netflix off and have to write while you listen to it in the background like I am right now) it is a worthy way to spend some time.

I want to figure out what the fuck is important to me. Half the time I think I know - like, 100% know. The other time I spend caught up in a overwhelming splattering of ideas and inspirations of all different sorts.

One thing I do know is that my boyfriend and long-time fan Spencer, is the most important person in my life. And in a short time, he will be joining me here in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam, where I’ve spent the...