Posts Tagged 'dreams'

BE BRAVE – The True Story of Daniel Northcott

BE BRAVE – The True Story of Daniel Northcott

Today I decided to interrupt my #40DaysofLove Campaign, to bring you all an inspiring story about a young man and his sister.

HELP CONTRIBUTE TOWARDS THE FILM http://indiegogo.com/be-brave

From Be Brave – The true story of Daniel Northcott

A brother’s dying wish. A sister’s undying promise. Watch the video above to hear the story of Daniel Northcott and his message of unity for the world.

“The real miracle is not flying through the air or walking on water, it is to walk upon the Earth at all.”

Bursting with unquenchable curiosity and a boundless love for life, Daniel Northcott was a one-of-a-kind filmmaker.  Barely 20, he set out on a decade-long quest to travel the world, spreading his infectious enthusiasm across four continents and dozens of cultures. Through ruins and cities, war zones and sacred sites, he captured each precious moment on camera with an eye for colorful characters of every age and description.

In April of 2007, Dan’s journey led him to a greater adventure than he had ever imagined.  Despite warnings of an ancient curse, he brought home a bone from a sacrificial Mayan burial cave in Yucatán, and just months later he was diagnosed with leukemia – cancer of the bone marrow.

When Daniel learned 8 years into his film project that he had only months to live he began a race to complete his unfinished film. Amazingly, he continued to document every detail of the roller-coaster ride that followed —from the doctor delivering the crushing news to every intense medical procedure, losing his hair, and intimate moments with friends and family.

With over a thousand hours of footage and no energy or time left he made a 40-minute sketch of the film he dreamed to make and left the footage in his will to his sister Erin Northcott. His last wish was to request she oversee the completion of his legacy, his film.

PLEASE SHARE OUR CAMPAIGN: http://www.indiegogo.com/Be-Brave
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Writing Dreams

Somewhere between the ages of three and four years of age, I taught myself to read.

That’s when I discovered something so magical and extraordinary:
words have power.

Words can take you out of this world and your ordinary existence and take your mind to another place. A place that can be any shape or colour or texture that your mind can dream of.

One day, I finally started school for the first time and there I discovered another extraordinary truth: I could write.

I could write poems and stories and books and anything else I dreamed of.

I could write about the little things in my life and I could also escape into any universe of my choosing.

The very first dream I ever had was of being a writer.

Once I learned how to write I could not be anything else but be a writer.
No matter what I chose to do with that precious gift. Oh and a precious gift it was to me indeed.

Writing to me was as natural as breathing. I couldn’t understand how anyone else could not see that. To write was to create. While other little girls were thrilled with learning how to bake and do other things, I was writing, and writing and writing.

I wrote for me, for school, for any reason at all.

I wrote for girl guides, for my writer’s badge, the only badge I ever cared about.

I wrote about my life, my family, my friends, my loves and lovers and about strangers I met in the street or never met.

I wrote about things and people I created, that existed nowhere else outside of my imagination.

Writing was and is the deepest blessing of my life on a two-fold level.

Because I needed to write for myself, to celebrate the highest ecstatic moments in my life, when I felt like I touched a piece of heaven. And when I consoled myself through the darkest deepest depths of my grief

But when I learned how to write I also wrote for another reason: for an audience.

What a gift it was to share these personal creations of myself with others.

And I have been blessed by that oh so many times.

I was so fortunate to be encouraged to write and share my writing with countless teachers on my path. And by the people in my life. The ones who cared about me and the real me, who enjoyed reading my voice.

Tonight, I saw a movie about a tortured artist who lived through his music, his own art.

And it made me think of that fine artistic thread that has delicately wound its way through my entire life, from childhood to adulthood, that of my own writing.

There have been times in my life when I experienced the worst of writer’s blocks and how I felt about that is simply indescribable. Imagine having your voice silenced, silenced so utterly completely and universally that it makes you forget you ever had such a gift to share.

But today I am lucky.

I am writing, and writing to you, my blog readers, and am happy to share my words with you.

My words are my song and I hope you enjoy listening to this, the music that I make, in this little oasis of mine.

Words, words, words, precious words born out of my dreams.
This is my dream. This is me.

***

When Fiction Transects Real Life

I just had a moment today.

You know when something so unexpected, something so delightful, and so seemingly small in significance yet so joy-bringing happens to you…

And you…just….feel….dizzy?

Oh boy did I have a moment like that today.

On a website far far away, my path crossed with something out of my dreams.

Do you have a favorite author that you follow, not just occasionally read a book or two, but spend years searching the internet for volumes of their work because their writing is so addictive, so well-done, so incredibly different and unique from anything else you’ve read in your life?  With the kind of characters that you really wish you could meet and greet like old friends in your every day life?

Well, that’s what happened to me.

I stumbled upon such an author, that I never even imagined coming across ever, didn’t even occur to me to try to write to…but just thought I would forever savour every little morsel of her writing.

And when I stumbled across this author (who would be so obscure to so many people on this planet – a rare jewel of a find I found years ago), I sent her a message. And she wrote back! She wrote me back THE SAME DAY. Within minutes. And SHE WAS SO NICE! Just like an ordinary mortal like you and me…wow!

But it gets better, this little story and little moment of mine.

Because on that website far far away, I had started a writer’s group months ago. One that grew until it now contains 219 members today. That’s 219 WRITERS all in ONE place.

And today, this famous author that I admire so much – with one click,  decided to join my writer’s group, on that website. Without even a prompting from me.

Can I even describe how that made me feel?

It’s like a kid who discovers Santa is REAL.

Wow.
Oh happy day!

I still feel dizzy.

Newsflash: Inner Artist Does Happy Dance! :)

Safety Dance – Men Without Hats

Wow isn’t that just amazing, for me to use that word.

Happy.

I’m happy. When was the last time I actually said that?
Funny how I just can’t remember.

But I am happy. And doing a happy dance about alot of things this week.

It seems like alot of circles have been coming full circle this week for me.
In my head, I am thinking about my career and life path and how many elemental things came back into my life.

Take my writing, for example.

Since I was a kid, I had so many teachers encourage me in my writing, with their praise and enjoyment of different things I wrote. Like the play I wrote in third grade. The short story I wrote about Martians for my very first Girl Guide’s badge – the writing badge, of course. Pretty much every single English teacher I had in high school encouraged me to dream and dream big, when it came to my writing. So, in my very first career path, I followed my dream to doing a Journalism degree in Concordia’s highly-rated Journalism program.

And then fast forward a few years, a decade or two, and go through quite a few career changes, until this moment now – which is me writing this blog entry. Writing, my first true love – yes this year I’ve gone back to you. And gone back to nurturing my creative self, that I had missed so much.

And then there is graphic design. When I chose it, it’s pretty funny, but I forgot how there was such a strong link to graphic design in my childhood as well.

When I was a kid, I messed around with paint and making things with my hands, and the other traditional art methods. And honestly – I sucked, for the most part. But it felt so good to create and try to bring the images out of my fertile imagination to life. And then one miraculous day, I discovered the art of the collage. This was way before I made my way to a computer. I’m not even sure how old I was when I made my first collage. But I found myself cutting interesting and odd images and words out of magazines and newspapers. And sticking them onto different kinds of paper and card stock. Even back then I loved the feel of textured paper. If I couldn’t find textured paper, I would ADD texture. I took my crayola crayons and ironed them onto looseleaf paper to make pretty funky colours. I picked up paper and crumpled it up and smoothed it down and crumpled it up and smoothed it down again. I recycled old duo-tags from high school essays. And with all this paper stock, I glued and taped on words, pictures, labels, ribbons, anything and everything. And voila- the-graphic-designer-to-be was born.

Which brings me to how I brought art back into my life this week and why I’m so happy.

Since I’ve been out of work for awhile, I was looking at a back to work transition program and stumbled across some art workshops offered at a local community center. So I signed up for a handful of course. Traditional art – making things with my hands again, like when I was a kid. Sculpture. Painting. Mixed media. I signed up for it all. And I can’t wait!

I haven’t taken a traditional art course since I was in seventh grade!

Oh and let me tell you – I had to sweat to pass that art course back then. Because honestly, I still sucked when it came to art. Oh I drew, but it was uninspired. And I was aware of that simple fact, even then. But I still loved it. Because it challenged me. And I loved the feel of working with my hands to create something. Too bad I couldn’t submit a collage for that course. But it was still fun and a lovely change from the mathematics and other logical courses I had to take.

So here I will be making things with my bare hands again. Digging back into the rich creative soil of my imagination. A few days a week, for the month of July. And maybe August, if I decide to continue. And boy am I psyched!

And since I’ve been on a physical trip, I also signed up again at my old gym downtown, where they greeted me like I was a Prodigal Daughter or something.

How fun it is to go back to my roots, in so many ways.

The circles are coming full circle.

And. I. am. SO. happy!

Happy.

🙂


Video Montage: The Flow
Following the flow of the universe, with a photo montage I created. The song is "Twisted Hair" by Robbie Robertson & The Red Road Ensemble, featuring the sublime operatic voice of Sioux singer Bonnie Jo Hunt, who sings over the sound of crickets.
Also posted on youtube:

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