amazed.

and in the morning. there are always birds with pieces of 'home' in their mouths. they are building shelter. and a place to be.

and in the morning. it rained so hard. with words and language falling from the ceiling.

i sat there. amazed.

i have been working on my lit review. and there is so much to read. everytime i think i've got it. i find so much more. meaning. and then i begin again. with piles upon piles. i am drenched in words. and in the library, with all its books. i sit here and fall over. 

highlight. re-write. write. re-write. i don't want to forget a thing. i want to be filled by this...

parallel lines.

and it's strange. the way the world works. and things align. everything comes into line.

the lines. the parallel numbers. it's really something. and today when i came back to my computer. it was filled with messages. and it just all came into line. the possibility.

p o s s i b i l i t i e s .

and i'm just two transcriptions away now. into the second last. and the ideas are alive. in me.

and if i had the time. or the equipment...or knowledge maybe...i'd make a film out of this all. a real film. something with movement. or the ability to. but for now. i'll just have to use my little program here and make something with what i've got.

..

today we have numbers. 

and my first draft should be complete by the beginning of July. and my final discussion is on September 3. 10am.  

scary but good. these are important dates and it's important for me to have dates set aside. as it makes it real for me. in my head.

and on my way. in the morning. i saw a wasp carry a dead caterpillar. and i watched in amazement. almost missed the bus.

and then everything aligned itself. with numbers and language.

and i've been thinking so much about drawing. and painting. 

life drawing.  or drawing life. 

and i think that maybe with the alignment of numbers and words...we need to be drawn.

drawn to. and drawn out. on paper. and sheets..

..in between parallel lines. 

connected.

it's like all the listening has produced space. or something.

and this research with its project and people and stories.

there is something that has teared open my heart. at its seams. where it was broken. before.

and the memories ooze out. or something.

all this coding has got me thinking. about coding and codes. and how it's just that that really damages and destroys and creates conflict.

all the fighting. all the codes. and change.

and perhaps i've chosen the best possible topic to do research on. and perhaps this is where my life needs to be. i think about all the people. about this world. about all the broken families. and situations. and how many youth are abused for just being. for breaking out of certain codes.

i think about "coming out" and only hope for a day when there will be no such a thing as having to "come out". 

i am brewing and stirred inside. i stir myself. and this brews me. inside.

i want to work with queer youth who are involved in abusive family situations.

i've never felt this so strong inside. when i first started my Master's i remember speaking to Nancy and saying that i want to do research connected to homeless youth. and i remember her asking me if i want it to be "queer" youth. i said no.

and perhaps i've been running away. or pushing this all deep inside. where it brews and stirs.

but today i feel broken. through. and out.

today i am pulsing and pushing at the seams of my heart...

listening.

this morning the bus didn't stop for me. and i think that maybe i was invisible for a moment. and the caterpillars surrounded me. and we walked together. to the next bus. the caterpillars and i.

in their pillars. with legs. and words. and something in between.

yesterday i transcribed a very full document. with words dripping off the sheets of paper. so much was said. and i listened while she spoke on that Monday morning back in April. but i heard it differently this time. and full. with filling. this feels like the base. or the hard drive. her words. and ideas.

"Every youth has a right to be here. Every youth has the right to be treated with dignity and with respect...It seems so simple."

and today i play with words. and findings. today i read and write. and i am working on my literature review. and there is so much to be reviewed. and read. 

and it's really something. this research. re-search. i re-search and re-search until i find what someone else found before.

and it's just something. and all this reading about the abuse and the violence. for what? for having a queer identity.

so many youth are homeless. home less. because their parents don't agree with their "sexual orientation". damn. i would like to re-orient them in their minds. the parents. the power. people have. so much. power. and i wonder. when this world will change. 

breathe.

i feel too much. and will most likely smash a lot of glass throughout the process of this research. 

breathe. 

this is alive. like my heart. in my heart. these words. these findings. i don't just read them. they beat against and into my heart...

drip.

somebody wrote the word 'give' in black with marker, pretty much all over the city. wherever i look..wherever i go i see it. 

i wrote the word 'hope' in red with spray paint, everywhere i went a few years back.

and there's this nostaligia or something. with the smell of summer. or spring. and research. with words. and meaning. there's something in the air.

and i remember when. and in the morning i dream of massive canvas. with wide open space. and pocket dictionaries. and paint with colour. i dream of these things. 

and on my way to the bus i stop and i watch caterpillars. in their pillars.

and i dream of wind without rain.

and it's strange that somebody wrote the word 'give'. just recently. everywhere. in every place.

every 11 seconds the word. with its meaning. and i think i'm dripping over the edge with idea. 

or formation. and i need to get to the l i b r a r y. now. for coding. and understanding..

new york.

and so things are like puzzle pieces in my head these days. and it's coming together.

and my research has brought on ideas for new projects. a participant that i interviewed brought up the idea to create a resource guide. i am thinking that this would be a great side project, as it is so needed and i am sure it would help so many youth out there.

.

i spent the last 4 days in new york. the graffiti was good for my mind and for my heart. it was a hectic 4 days and i was pretty annoyed by all the noise and people. i think my body was craving something more peaceful. 

but, i found something of interest in a local gay magazine. "The Ali Forney Center"-"where homeless LGBT youth are sheltered, housed and assisted in becoming safe, healthy and independent young adults" and the website brought me to some really great articles.

so even though i found new york to be very stressful and annoying, i did find resources for my MRP! and beautiful art.

.

today is Friday and i feel like next week will and should be spent in the library-coding and writing...

again.

and what does it mean to "come out". i've been thinking and wondering. and there's this constant sort of negotiation thing that happens, especially when you're young or first "coming out". and it's hard. not easy. the coming out. the process. the words. language. space.

and i spent the entire day yesterday transcribing one interview. i don't know what it was that took me so many hours. i needed time to process the words in my own body. and to listen and re-listen and really hear what he was saying to me. and "we need a gay shelter" "we need a gay shelter" "we really NEED a gay shelter". i woke up with his voice in my head. and these words. and this whole "coming out" thing. and something along the lines of "every place i've lived in, i've had to deal with homophobia". and damn. this city. these people. this h o m o p h o b i a .

these words feel so 7 years ago. but i knew when i started this project that these feelings. memories. all these things would rise up again. 

i don't want this to be so much about me or my experience. but something about yesterday. the words. the words. the words. something in them, awoke something in me. again.