Night Walks

This night I took a walk. A long walk...

It's so chilly. I wrapped myself up just like you do when you are 6 yrs old and ready to embark on a snowy backyard adventure. I feel free enough here to explore without looking like a weirdo. Another thing that feels really good is no one has "cat called" at me. You know when you are 

walking down the street happy in your own thoughts and then someone yells out "yeahhhhh baby" ?

It seems funny to repeat but each time I feel it chips away at you. 

I have grown so fond of not tensing up as I pass a group of people outside a bar here in Iceland. I know when I get back to Canada things will return to the same way they were. For now, I greatly appreciate the distance and respect. 

       

I climbed high over piles of half built structures and stony sea sides all night.

I am thinking about how much I miss my family and friends. Maybe I should be spending more time with them. 

During an interview tonight the very interesting musician I was speaking to said that there is a school of thought that suggests that there is never a totally original idea. That all ideas are just things in the air that visit some people and not others. This explains why someone from one end of the earth could come up with a eerily similar melody as someone from a totally different region. 

        The same thing goes for paintings, poems, choreography, and anything you could create. 

This frees us to not clench our ideas with an iron fist. Because it was never ours to own.

What do you think?

       

                     I can tell you that there are cats all over the streets here. Not the sad farrow cats that need you to scoop them up and just give them some sardines and a warm window cil to sit in. NO!
These cats seem like the guardians of the streets, predatorally following me through the alley ways, ducking behind statues and stair cases once spotted. They are well fed, fluffy, sprightly and want absolutely nothing to do with me petting them. I even tried the "kiss kiss" sound, averting from my old bird like sound. This hasn't helped lately. These furry balls of avoidance are breaking my heart daily. Thanks for nothing cats of Iceland.