Bowen Island on Film

11

1. Shooting with my DSLR while I was on-the-go was the best, but now that I’m home, I’m more than happy to have my film camera back. The theme of coming home has been relearning everything. I’m relearning how film carries a different weight. I need stillness. I need patience. I need to forgo certain shots in order to take better ones. It takes time to reach the end of a roll. It takes time to receive the final product, and time puts a haze over expectations. Film photography is forgetting, and then remembering again.

12

2. Last weekend, we spent our days huddled on Bowen Island in a house on a hill owned by hippies with 3 Juno Awards. We went hiking. We played video games (because the boys obviously could not leave their video games behind). We got drunk, told secrets, and laughed a lot. We were quiet. We were loud. We had dance parties.

For me, the week before was one of those heavy-shoulders, runny make-up, eye-bagged weeks. I literally cried over Richard eating my pizza, because that’s how bad things got. And when the weekend hit, I felt like I could breath again. Getting out of Vancouver physically got me out of that headspace for a few moments, and it was like hitting a reset button. Or maybe it was just the snooze button, but whatever it was – the mountains and the sea do that to you. Rest does that to you.

13

3. My favourite thing about the weekend was that we all cooked for each other, and the weeks leading up to the trip, everyone bragged about how awesome their meals were going to be. I was talking about the weekend later with Ben and he said, “It was great to see what everyone brings to the table,” and he really meant it literally. I love that when we are called to serve one another, we step up our game and go ham (ok, no more food puns from hereon out).

14 1 4

4. “Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that new world is born.” – Anais Nin

5 6 7 9 13 2 8 10 11

5. I have been thinking about ceremonies and traditions a lot, and how many times you have to do something before it becomes a tradition. Everything grows differently, and at this age, I will never have expectations for things to stay stagnant for very long, but tradition is what eases comings and goings. It’s what makes leaving heartbreaking and what makes returning look like open arms. I haven’t been with these friends for very long, but already, there are patterns that make me feel comforted – the way we play the good kind of games; the way certain things are always done in communion, and the way that our traditions tend to be invitational. I hope these are things that always stay important.

HOME

10906227_10152669568035292_4807488468902819939_n
After an intense Christmas break, the most genuine wedding I have ever been to, a month of school, many pairs of shoes filled with rainwater, and two new jobs, I sat down this weekend and admitted that I am 100% integrated back into Vancouver life. I carry a pair of sunglasses in my bag while wearing rain boots. I’ve made up for all the sushi I didn’t eat on exchange. I even told someone that they should have put their food in the compost bin. I’m still in the middle of figuring out how Bordeaux-Rebekah and Vancouver-Rebekah are going to get along, but as of right now, I am choosing to be present here in this city (and I know this because I’ve stopped searching up tickets on Skyscanner). The best way I can put how the past few weeks have been is that I have been:

a) slowly and surely closing doors in my heart. So many of them have been opened for far too long; some I know are being shut too soon. All feel like I’ve jammed my fingers between the cracks, and I need someone to pry me away. All are needed. It has been a painful, but necessary process and a process that seems to have no stop date. But the best thing about it is that I know there is freedom at the end of this!

b) learning that I have a community here. Coming home means relearning my good and bad ties. It means realizing that I’m not this lone traveller anymore, and I’m not just putting my questions out into the universe hoping for an answer. I’m still putting my questions out to people who may not be able to answer them, but at least they’re people who know me well. One thing my manager always says to me is, “Be heard.” It sounds strange, but I am relearning how to be heard.

c) seeing that adventure is around the corner no matter where in the world I am! Grace and I went to Golden Ears Provincial Park to shoot, and I’ve posted what we came up with. Videography is probably never going to be my medium of choice. I don’t have nearly enough skills to produce something I’m actually willing to put up for real critique, but it’s so much fun to play with!

d) writing poetry?! I have always tried to be poetic but have had trouble calling my writing poetry, It’s such a weighted word, and one of the bravest forms of writing I’ve ever encountered. But my goal for this semester is to write one poem that I’m proud enough of to share aloud. So to put more of myself out there, here’s something I wrote for my Creative Writing class:

Seabed

The first time I met the ocean
She crushed me in her embrace.
I followed wet footprints on dripping docks
Like a breadcrumb trail of sea salt
Dove into her arms headfirst as if there was a pillow on the bottom
Eyes closed and hands reaching for level eight swimming pool lessons
I was met with green fingertips and a tight grip
My feet scrambled for a ghost step
And missed
I heard thunder in her heartbeat
Saw sinking ships in her veins –
This was the deep end.

The second time I met her
She received me like a postcard.
She was a cradle
Soft yarn like cat’s cradle
She, the silk ribbon waves
I, the maypole
She was the mouth of the whale
That Jonah knew well
I trusted her; toes first
Then legs,
Then hips,
Then torso
Even up to my neck
Loose fingers, no chokehold on my throat
Her arms a winter duvet around my chest
A bed first cold; then warm.

SWITZERLAND

DSC_0046

1. An excerpt from a letter I received right before I left for Switzerland:

“‘He climbed a mountain and invited those He wanted with Him. They climbed with Him.’ – Mark 3:13

So many significant things happen when Jesus goes to a mountain – the transfiguration, the sermon on the mount, the temptation by the enemy. But so many seemingly ordinary things, like praying and simply being with His disciples. I want to pray this image over you today.”

I never thought I would miss seeing mountains so much, but it has always been nice looking up and seeing something constant; to know that there is always something sacred within your peripherals.

DSC_0010 DSC_0022  DSC_0057 DSC_0058

2. We trained through 4 cities in 4 days, but we spent most of our time in Interlaken, which is a quiet little town that is simultaneously retirement paradise and every adrenaline junkie’s dream. The town is wedged between two of the most turquoise lakes I have ever seen, and when I got out of the train station, I did a 360 turn and everywhere I looked, there was a mountain in sight. It’s a different kind of paradise.

DSC_0101 DSC_0111 DSC_0136

3. We hiked up to Harder Kulm, and it was 3 hours of uphill sweating, snow slipping, and heaving breathing, but we went through golden forest, rolling green hills, and fields of snow, and the view at the top was insane, so it was definitely worth every step. On our way up, we met a very cute Swiss couple who had just come back from a trip across America, had done exchange in Australia, and were heading to Bali next week for a year. They’re not the first people I’ve met on this trip who’s goals are travel-oriented. I’ve talked to Australian backpackers (so many Australian backpackers!), an Irish woman who fell in love with Southeast Asia, and a Frenchman who’s dream is to move to Chile – all of them always thinking about where they are heading next. And I often feel the same. My next month’s itinerary is packed, and I’m already thinking about where I’m going to jet off to next year. But one thing is for certain: the place I’m most excited to travel to is Vancouver. It doesn’t matter how many mountains I climb or how many places I see the ocean from, home is special and I think my home has the best mountains and the best ocean.

DSC_0168 DSC_0179 DSC_0205 DSC_0217 DSC_0221 DSC_0229 DSC_0233

4. Usually I pass out on trains, but while we rode through Switzerland, I couldn’t help but try to battle the window reflections and attempt to catch a few shots of what we were passing by. It’s HaRi’s dream to move here for a few years, and I see that dream in full force now. Every time I looked up, it was a change of scene, and I couldn’t believe how this country is a postcard come to life.

DSC_0234

5. We met a girl named Sofia on one of our train rides. She was a violinist who had left home to chase her dreams of becoming a professional soloist, and she was travelling to Switzerland to take a master class.

Chasing a dream like this will kill you if you don’t love it. You have to love it.”

DSC_0238

6. Zurich is a city that feels like Christmas. It is so full of light and life, and I love the way how people still insist on sitting outdoors even though it’s freezing out, so restaurants and cafes leave blankets out for their customers. We warmed our hands with hot coffee, even though the waiter laughed at us for ordering espressos instead of gin and tonics at 9 pm (“The cows go to bed after 6!”), and we filled out stomachs with fondue in the coziest bistro. On Sunday morning, Zurich was slate grey with overcast skies and a silver lake, and it was still beautiful but it was the first time I have ever seen a place more colorful in the dark than the light.

DSC_0254 DSC_0286 DSC_0294

Cheung Chau Island

20140612-153843-56323789.jpg

20140612-153840-56320007.jpg

20140612-153842-56322650.jpg

20140612-153841-56321778.jpg

20140612-153844-56324615.jpg

20140612-154025-56425342.jpg

20140612-154223-56543140.jpg

To the adventurous souls of Hong Kong –

Go to Cheung Chau Island. Take the slow ferry (it’s cheaper and you see more when you take your time). Go with someone who has steady feet and a lion heart. Hike up to the Reclining Rock and find the hidden beach. Touch the ocean. Crawl into caves and look for treasure (but make sure you bring a flashlight). Go beyond the boundaries – they are there to be crossed. Share your heart on top of a mountain. If you get bug bites and cactus needles in your legs, it’s okay, you will live. If you find yourself in a den of spiders, it’s okay, you will live through that too. Eat at dingy diners and then go out and eat more at street food vendors (make sure you try fish balls and mango mochi). Ride bikes and remember that nothing else can replicate salty sea breeze. Drink iced coffees at the Rainbow Cafe, write down your dreams, and post them on the wall. Watch the sun set.

Thank you for showing me that Hong Kong is not a cement block – that there are parts still untouched by industrialization, that the Old Hong Kong my father knows still lives on somewhere, and that there are old ladies who shout blessings of good health over you as you walk away.