Keira-anne.com

Original Photo: cemedia on Flickr

I started popping Tylenol at 5pm yesterday. Oh, how I adore seasonal migraines. I’ve been plagued with them for the past handful of years, mainly only in the springtime. Lavender is my new best friend. The truth is, the migraines are gone as quickly as they spring on me. After a few extra hours in bed this morning and some fresh air, I’m basically just feeling the remnants…something I like to call a “migraine hangover.” I suppose I’m one of the lucky ones - I know some who’ve spent weeks bedridden, so for the odd one I get here and there, who am I to complain? A migraine every once in a while isn’t the end of the world.

Here we go…

It’s okay, I get it. Many of you who read this blog are my friends and family and, therefore, have a great deal of love for me. However, it hasn’t escaped me that a few of my readers have quite a sour taste in their mouths for me and their reasons for checking in on my blog are more of a guilty pleasure; a love/hate, if you will. I’m a big girl - I can handle that. So for those of you who dislike me, here’s one of those rare shallow gems for your reading and viewing displeasure to fuel your feelings.

Yesterday, after work, I did something I’d long been meaning to do: I bought new jeans. Growing up on the Island, shopping wasn’t something in which much selection was offered. At Christmastime in seventh grade I was beyond thrilled to receive my first pair of Guess jeans. Everybody had ‘em! After that, I stuck mostly to Mavi, Silver and Gap (once Woodgrove Centre in Nanaimo got one). It wasn’t until the last handful of years that I started to learn more about fashion, what looks good and what fits properly. The truth is, I have long legs and a narrow waist, and mass jean manufacturers simply don’t cut their jeans to suit. Even Gap’s ‘Long and Lean’ collection presumes that “if you’re tall then surely you must have saddlebags, so let’s put in extra fabric to accommodate for them.” The truth is, I’m 5-foot-9 with a 3/4 waist.

Two years ago, a beautiful friend helped me discover jeans of a more designer calibre. It started with Citizens of Humanity and never stopped there. The truth is, when jeans are properly designed, they fit the body that wears them that much better. And so last night I pushed open the glass doors of Holt Renfrew and bought myself a new pair from Rock and Republic. And I love them. And they were worth every penny.

It’s somewhat intriguing that I live in a high-rise apartment building in downtown Vancouver. Each day I put on sparkly jewellery and high heels beforing clicking my way down the sidewalk to yet another high rise. There, I sit in a swivelling chair while my manicured nails clack away on a keyboard for eight hours. At that point, I then click my way back home and curl up in my 505 square feet nest and rest up to do it all over again the following day.

Photo: lapideo on Flickr

Why is that intriguing, you ask?

It’s a complete false front. My life, and what I do day-in and day-out, is scarcely a reflection of what I really want each day of my life to be. My dreams are where the truth lies. Each one of us, at one point or another, has let our imaginations go wild with the thoughts of a lottery winning. “Life would be perfect…” is often the sentiment. Naturally I’d take a few trips, buy a pricey handbag or two and partake in a small number of indulgences, but my ideal life involves nothing but idyllic simplicity.

Before anything else, I’d leave Vancouver completely. Rather obviously, I am nothing but an Island Girl, and I’d be on the first boat headed to Vancouver Island. I would like a house, a home. This home would be set on a widespread yard; lush and fresh with green grass, lavender plants, a rainbow of blossoms everywhere and copious turf for an entire brood of pooches. The beach would be a short walk away.

Photo: DNiall on Flickr

The house itself would be older, completely saturated with a combination of character, history and beauty. A porch would wrap entirely around most of it with plenty of room for both over-sized wooden chairs and a chest full of fluffy blankets for cold mornings drinking herbal teas in the fresh Island air.

At the heart of the dwelling lies the kitchen. Truth be told, I don’t care where I live when I “grow up,” but an amazing kitchen is crucial. Bamboo countertops, pots, pans, a stainless steel Kitchenaid mixer, cookie sheets, spices, flour, sugar and enough utensils to make Martha Stewart green with envy. Wide and tall windows would be perfectly set to filter endless hours of sunlight into the kitchen. On the windowsills would be enough space to grow basil, rosemary and thyme while still making room for my fruit-filled pies to cool. I’d spend hours in there each day cooking, concocting and creating.

Original Photo: melisdramatic on Flickr

I’m a woman; of course I want children one day. My home would be a home for family. It would be a space to inspire and create. Being that I have such an affinity for coastal First Nations art, a Haida sun inlaid with abalone shell would be focal. There’d be rooms for painting, writing, relaxing, reading and thinking. Every space would be filled with comfort, sun and light.

Who knows if I’ll ever live that life in such a home. It’s hard not to think about baking pies on sunny days while sitting at a desk with my fingertips clacking away on that keyboard. Perhaps it’s the dreams we hold in our soul-hearts that give us what we need to get through “A” so we can move on to and appreciate “B” for all that it is and will be.

What are your dreams?

For anyone who uses Flickr on a regular basis, you know how fantastic it is. It’s quite possibly one of the best sites on the web, making photo sharing and lurking a snap. Did I just make a pun? Since joining Flickr in 2006, I’ve upgraded to ‘Pro’ status and have added nearly 2,000 photos to my account. Not surprisingly, three out of my top five photos that have been “favourited” by Flickr folks are of my body and a bikini.

However, what has long been my most “favourited” photo has been bumped into the second spot in less than a week. What is surprising is that the bikini shot’s successor contains no skin, strings or sexiness. It has been surpassed by this photo:

Click the photo to view it in detail.

Since posting this photo on Flickr just four days ago, it has received a “Favourite” denotation 10 different times.

On Easter Sunday, I took the three dogs out into the yard after the feast was devoured and the rain clouds cleared. After a bit of time playing, I made my way back inside and noticed rays of sunshine pouring through the trees. Instantly, I grabbed my camera and shot a series of photos. Everything was so lush and fresh after the rain, causing the greens and yellows to be saturated. I got down low, put my camera on the ground and hoped for “a neat shot.” The above photo is what was captured.

I called the photo ‘We Are All Here’ because I feel that there’s a lot of magic to be found in my moment in the sun. Each and every single drop of rain is being completely filled with and illuminated by the light of the sun. Some drops are big, some are smaller. Some are bright and exuberant, while others simply blend into the background. What’s important is that each and every drop of rain serves a purpose and has a destiny to nourish.

More often than not, it is so simple to feel useless and overlooked – not only by others by also by our own selves. Fortunately, it isn’t true in the slightest. All of us serve a purpose in our lives, in our families, in our social circles and in our communities. While some of us are meant to shine, sparkle and be a beacon of light for others, some of us are crucial to subtly satiate the lives of others in less obvious but equally important means – life buffers, if you will.

I am by no means a professional photographer, and any occasion on which I happen to capture a beautiful photo is purely by accident. However, I really wanted to share this picture with all of you for the simple reason that sometimes we all need reminders that none of us are accidental, but instead vital.

There is one thing I know for sure that women today do not have enough of. Other women. I’ve spent much time over the last several days thinking, talking, learning, inspiring, instigating, gaining insight and pondering how important friendships are among women. There is a lot of strength and love to be found there, penultimate only to the strength and love we need to seek within ourselves. Remembering to take care of one’s self is a daily necessity and yet something that we seemingly need to be reminded of each day.

After work, I skipped down Main Street with my friend Kortney to meet up with Phaedra and take in a yoga practice. I’ve needed to get back into it for a long time, but I wanted to avoid two things: 1) high membership fees; and 2) the pretentiousness and competitive nature of 99% of yoga studios in downtown Vancouver. Last week, Phaedra discovered Radha Yoga and Eatery in Chinatown.

“radha yoga & eatery offers yoga in a beautiful studio room, consciously-created vegan food in the restaurant, and art & music events for inspiration…radha is a sacred space that embraces people, art and culture. Community is supported and all spiritual traditions are valued. In Eastern mythology Radha flees ordinary life to be with her divine lover, who calls with his mystical flute. “Radha” means cosmic love. At radha you are invited to taste nourishment on all levels.”

I spent a little over an hour clearing my mind of the day’s mud puddles while simultaneously realizing each and every instance I came across for what it was. To further explain how my yoga practice affected me is really pointless because it’s something that really needs to be experienced in every aspect to be fully understood.

After yoga, we nourished our bodies at The Foundation at Main Street and 7th Avenue. It was too tasty to be believed.

Not so long ago, I had an experience on the slopes that was less than favourable. It was one of those days where everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Fortunately, despite the psych-out that resulted from said day, I had the courage to strap my board back on and hit the hill at Mt. Washington today.

Things started looking up before I even had the chance to lace my boots up. Just after 7 a.m., the mountain sent out an official “Powder Alert” via e-mail. Over 16cm of fresh powder fell overnight and the forecast was sunny and bright. I couldn’t have asked for a better day. It seemed almost as though Mother Nature, knowing how horrible my last day was on the hill, wanted to make it up to me. Carving was near flawless for me and I managed to make my way through trees for the first time. I can’t describe the feeling. It was the second time ever riding my new Forum set-up…

I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Being that it’s Easter Sunday, though I am not religious, I can’t ever pass up the opportunity to cook a meal for my loved ones. Despite how tired I was by the time the lifts stopped running, I had a surprising amount of energy. Lucky for everyone at my house, just enough energy to throw together a pork roast, green onion mashed red potatoes, sides and a bowl full of roasted carrots, mushrooms, celery and fennel. I amaze myself.

My family and friends are phenomenal. I’ve long said that family and relatives are two separate ideas. Though there are people around the globe to whom I am related by blood, they aren’t the family I’ve known since the day that I was born. My kindred “sister” Kortney was here with her mom, and we were blessed with a beautiful moment in the evening’s setting sun. It’s now 9:16 p.m. and I have a big suitcase and tons of dog toys to pack up in order to make my way to the ferry tomorrow morning. It seems that, now that its the last day all three dogs get to play together, some semblance of peace has been found…

Their time on the Island has been a rather adventurous one for Benji and Casey. I’ve snapped a few photos and put them up on my Flickr, but today I managed to grab a couple of videos as well. The first is typical of me and Casey’s morning routine. As long as I’ve known him, my blowdryer makes him go nuts. Lately I’ve noticed that if I aim it at him, he’ll jump and trying to grab it with his teeth. Look at that tail go!

Yesterday was Charley’s first day off-leash in her own yard, and so far, she’s been out with the boys three times. They don’t get along much at the best of times, but when they’re in the yard playing, it’s an entirely different story. Her and Benji like to run around together, and one will often entice the other to give chase.

My mom was shocked and surprised to see my brother and his girlfriend roll into Courtenay today. The pair moved to Dawson Creek at the end of last summer and we haven’t seen them since. It’s completely awesome to have the family all together again.

I’ve been on the Island since yesterday evening. After bailing from the office early, grabbing the car and puppies, I headed to Horseshoe Bay for the trek home. The sailing on BC Ferries was my first experience on the new C-Class Coastal Renaissance vessel, and I was surprisingly impressed. Some pluses: ATMs on the ferry (though you still can’t use Interac to pay for anything), two full-sized passenger decks, a 1,500 square-foot gift shop and more lounges. In fact, the lounges were what impressed me most. Rather than just one or two large passenger areas, the lounges are broken up, making the entire ambience of the boat much more calm and less chaotic - despite the increased passenger volume.

The only let-down I saw so far was the pet area. As before, it’s a small, cold, steel room with plastic seats - not at all warm, inviting or comfortable. One would think that BC Ferries would’ve finally realized that pets are a very important part of families and deserve more than solitary confinement. Some photos are below with more on my Flickr.

Since arriving, I’ve done nothing. I’m trying my hardest to get Charley, Casey and Benji to get along but it’s tough work. I’m really not sure what’s going on between those three. The only thing I am sure of is how cute they all are.

Truth be told, I should be more relaxed, rested and peaceful. For whatever reason, I feel anything but. It’s time to retire for the night with some Javier and a Diet Pepsi and hope that Friday brings the special kind of sunshine that I need.

It’s only Tuesday and yet it’s been a long week already. Thankfully, a long weekend beckons me and I made it even longer by taking Thursday off. Tomorrow I’m grabbing my gear, the dogs and heading for the ferry to spend a few days on the Island. Truth be told, what I’m looking forward to most is seeing Charley play with Benji and Casey for the first time. I have no doubt it’ll be an explosion of adorability. Enough from me…here’s my link love for the day.

You know what? It’s a slow day…that’s all I’ve got for you right now.

Being that today has been less than favourable for your humble narrator, the closest thing to comfort came in the form of my Lulus, an oversized hoodie, one big-ass bowl of Kraft Dinner, two lovable pups and endless hours of ‘Oz.’ Produced by HBO (yes, those same smarty-pants people who brought you ‘Sex in the City’), ‘Oz’ forces you to trade your Manolo Blahniks in for Timberland boots.

Tagged after the nickname given to Oswald State Correctional Facility, the show focuses on a select group of inmates who are all part of an experimental cell block within the prison. Emerald City (or Em City, as it’s so affectionately referred to) allows the prisoners to function and co-exist together with fewer limitations and encourages rehabilitation through responsible living. Don’t be fooled by the concept, because Em City is never a simple walk down the cell brick road.

Tonight, as I watched one particular episode in the first season, I witnessed quite possibly the most intense scene I’ve ever seen on television. The prison riot is altogether terrifying, chaotic and violent but at the same time entirely electrifying. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The following video contains course language and graphic violence.

You know what they say…”There’s no place like home.”

Indeed.