seed
and bud(dies)
Olivia says that raccoons have been breaking into Tesla trucks because they look like dumpsters. Some other things Olivia has said this week are: “who made these messes?” and “get your land legs under you” and “not everything you see, you can believe.”
Last minute invitation to a solstice medieval party so I wore my poofy sleeves. My face did what it wanted, I got up for stew often. Castle Face played for us and we vibrated into the longest night of the year. I walked home alone, heart spun with all that sun.
The ex of two of my exes who I think is now my ex does this unhinged thing in Monopoly Deal where they’ll accumulate too many cards on purpose and when forced to discard, they’ll get rid of the properties others would need to win. Gaby says this is a way of working with and against the rules at the same time.
Every year we make do with the darkness. In the kitchen, I do the dance of the Spiraler and the Spiker. I make my body little because the Spiraler is known to burrow into holes of self-doubt. Then I am big like the Spiker. The Spiker is up on their wall peering into the holes and they say: why are you discarding yourself? A bit sharp of them.
Friends can help with the dance, they can spot you. They can say, spin to where it hurts, spin to the thrill, we’ve got you in the before and during and after.
Ice skating at Beaver Lake, birds above. But in a real way as if they are combing my brain, back and forth. Tears in the eyes from -17 degrees and good company.
Before it got cold for real, we sang the seed song which I recorded on my phone and listen to in bed on bad days. We sang the seed song after planting bulbs in the dye garden that will soon be replaced by condos. We sang it days after getting teargassed at the protest. We did not grow up here, French is a language to struggle with, sometimes we toy with leaving. Yet we sing the seed song, hungover from Bijou and drowning in the wind.
We sing it with its fourth line no-one remembers or understands. We sing it as a way to get the I Kissed a Girl episode to stop buffering. (IKAG is the lesbian reality TV show Abby showed us. Episodes are in this Google Drive folder which is yours if you want it.)
For my birthday, Gaby gifted me a candle holder. It broke while she was making it so she chucked the parts in two different sections of the pit fire and then glued the two pieces together. One side is splattered with light, the other isn’t:
You’re always winning in Montréal winter. On the coldest day, the sun is most dazzling. And on the greyest day, the wind will rarely be harsh. I love that my laugh lines have settled in, even when I’m not laughing. I love to walk up the mountain with Sam who I carry on my shoulders because three hours of snow is a lot for his paws, even if they’re protected in his legging-shoes. I like Sam’s warmth and how he trusts me and how I’m strong and I like the attention we get from passerbys. I’m 26 now and apparently the seed has all the information.
Other updates: Alia found a dance to read. Cam introduced me to Cole’s drawings of Montréal winter. Abby made me a quilt that does not belong to the world of words. Suzie has this to say about seeds:
Cozy belated solstice to u and to everyone who keeps u cozy, XX
— zo