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Category Archives: Diary of Britta B.

Life is a cliff-hanger
some of us are the cliffs with clingy grievances hanging from our shoes and ankles
some of us refuse to let go of these people we feel sorry for
some of us are escape artists
built with strength and emotional power to pull ourselves up
and onto the cliff
not knowing there will be more cliffs
not knowing there will be more people and events to hold us down
like the string of a helium balloon tied to a chair or to a wrist
I am small and bound to burst
I am full and cannot flee my purpose

Britta B.

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The pursuit
is the truth
My passion has clouded my clarity
with boisterous,
bulging cloud formations
Beautiful, passing, plump
Everything up to this point
directed me to a warm moment of panic
a painful relief
I have not been touched
with such tender assurance
than when I was
disappointed
The sweet prize was
disguised as a goal –
something to aim for
when the Truth was having
a barrel to look through
down
into

Britta B.

There’s just something about somebody
who just
shows up
unannounced, no calls
no signals

just appears

He just shows up
from around the corner

gives you that look
that you can’t look

away from

Britta B.

Virtually trapped on a
literal locomotive
I go places only with my body
while my mind sits, stuck working
overtime
filing memories from the wastebasket
into fresh refurbished cabinets

Oh this present
just isn’t as good as
what I can make the past become…

Britta B.

Here’s a short documentary put together by some Humber College students (2013) Special Thanks to Julia Rogers.

I recently read, “Old stories are like old friends, you must revisit them every now and then…” or something like that. Coincidentally, two days ago, I came across the journal I was writing in while I was in Kenya. I opened to this page and felt everything I felt then all over again. Reminders, man. Enjoy. 

July 11, 2010
It’s beginning to get harder to get out of bed now. I’m not quite homesick, however, I feel as though I’ve lost purpose on being on this trip.

I keep thinking about Toronto and all of the feelings I’ll have and the commitments I’ll try to keep. Like spending less time in the shower, turning taps off while washing/brushing, unplugging unused electronics, buying food I need opposed to greed, being more inviting to strangers, being more available to friends, spending more time in Kingston with family, letting frustrations pass with a convenient ease and smile, being more conscious of where the products I buy are coming from, sleeping earlier and long before it’s time to get up. Consume carefully. Write more often. Say Thank You. Take breaks but work hard. Save $$…

All of these things and more.

I’m ready to go home – I feel very confused here. I definitely don’t belong, it’s not my place and it’s all quite disappointing.

Even though I have such negative feelings about all of this, there is one very special thing (person) that keeps me alive here in Kenya. Janat.

The top of her head reaches no higher than my shoulders and her cheerfulness expands eons. She has wide eyes with big black dots in the middle and the most straight, clean teeth out of any child here. I sink into her lanky arms each time we meet. She loves playing hide-and-go-seek, chewing grass, talking about what different words mean in Swahili, asking questions like Where were you?, saying Yes, throwing her handmade ball of rags to play catch, and of course, laughing. A lot of laughing is a must around her.

Every time I see this girl I am instantly happy and calm. All is well with Janat. She is in Standard 5 (or grade 5) and looks like a young Lauryn Hill with a shaved head. She has an older sister and two older brothers but acts as if she’s roamed the ends of the earth and back all on her own. There is a wise soul inside of her that I only hope gives her strength to be everything dreams of and more. More than me.

She is so smart, appreciative, and smiley! While collecting water with a plastic container that once held cooking oil, walking back and forth from a river 20mins away – she did it all with a smile. As if happiness was a state of mind unconditioned, as if smiles could be smacked on faces like lipstick for special occasions and this right here, the moment of now, was a very special occasion. I can’t get over her.

Britta B.

Ever since I was born I can remember
I both hated myself and wanted
to make people’s lives better.
I learned very slowly
that these two energies don’t
work together, they work against each other.

Sometimes, I still hate myself
but I know this is a passing feeling or thought
that I am stronger than. That I am loved despite this.

But what will always be a part of me is my
undying urge to make a difference.
                                              To change somebody.
                                              To inspire and encourage.

Britta B.

What would you risk your life
to write?

would it be a name
a birthday, date, place
or time?

what about directions;
could you write a legend?

could you tell the truth?

what would you write?

who would you want to read it?
who would be in mind?

We artists
are closest
to the Gods

for we create
recreate
recreationally
and as a job

If I had to risk my life, I’d write:
I con art into love
I con art into love
I con art into love
I con art into love

ICONARTINTOLOVE

Britta B.

I feel like I’m waiting for a moment
a specific moment
a breakthrough
a gasping breath of fresh air and
I’m making my way around the city, determined
to gather the right
people, spirits, energies
at the right time
in the right place.

I’ve had moments resemble
this moment, but I know
I’m preparing for a bigger
moment – one that
lasts, one that stays
doesn’t leave me, no
matter how many times
I tell it to go
away.

I am a lighthouse moving like water beside fire
looking
for a moment to boom.

Britta B.

What do you not want me
to see?
Stop distracting me
from how quickly you
lose interest in
things, come
sit with me in the
quiet place where you
think no one can hear
you and tell me what
you’ve been telling yourself
not to say…

Britta B.