my friend, el.

A couple of years ago I received word that a friend of mine had suddenly passed away. We’d fallen out of touch, but she’d never been far from my mind. I was always so busy when I’d head back to Thunder Bay, trying to fit everything in, and my last two visits - we just never made it work. I stayed up to date through social media, we spoke from time to time, and I thought of her as just there - I thought nothing of messaging her out of the blue, I figured we’d meet up again someday, and that when we did it would be like no time had passed at all.

Being far away and so out of touch - I felt like it wasn’t my loss to grieve. I felt the loss deeply - I still feel it - but it came hand in hand with a lot of guilt for not checking in with her. Now, almost two years later, I find myself wandering through the places I knew her on social media - seeing what books she was loving on GoodReads, visiting her Facebook page, looking over and over again through the archive of photos I still have of that free and disjointed time from ages 18-23, that time straight out of high school - plays, days at the lake, endless yard sales, book clubs, talking true crime - all the countless times we sat in my ‘92 Buick, drove down country roads, and imagined what our lives would be now. Her death was sudden, and heartbreaking, and as unfair as any death can be - especially for someone in their early 30s.

She was sarcastic and blunt with a heart of gold. I called her el, but her real name was Sara. She was smart, and opinionated, and she could give the best eyeroll I’ve ever seen to this day. She was creative, an actress - throughout film school I tried to find parts for her whenever I could because really, the best bonus of making a movie was making a movie with your friends. She was an amazing actress. I saw her once in A Midsummer Night’s Dream - and to this day it’s the only play me and my attention span have been able to go to twice. She shone, in all her dark humour and sarcastic glory. She sparkled, but she’d think it was really lame that I said that. She starred in my terrible first silent film, “Muninn”, about a young girl who is haunted by the memory of her friend who’d passed on. She starred in a few more films for classmates, she folded in - she always belonged in her one of a kind way.

I catch myself sometimes still thinking that it’s a world with her in it. This isn’t a bid for more photos - although take photos as often as you can - it’s just a space to share that today, on this sunshine-filled afternoon, on her birthday, how I really wish I could go pick her up for a country drive. I want to tell her to listen to My Favorite Murder, because she’d love it. I want to hear about what she’s doing, her thoughts on movies, music, fandoms, to mosey on over to the secondhand bookstore, to sit on a dock on Lake Superior while the sun goes down and the mosquitoes swarm, making art in our journals together, taking long exposure photos, road trips in along the shore of northwestern Ontario - on fire with possibilities.

A cozy little room for reading & visiting

I have always loved a good guest room.

In her house, my Nan had this beautiful blue guest room. When I slept over, I always shared a room with my Nan - we’d watch Murder She Wrote, do the dinner dishes together, and then turn in with my hopping up onto her giant bed with a little step stool. Her bedspread, curtains, and wallpaper all had the same wheatfield pattern, and when my Nan fell deeper into dementia, I would sometimes wander into her room and feel so much comfort in that connection of memory between the quiet routine of our sleepovers and how much her personality was reflected in how she decorated her tiny little duplex - wood paneled walls, teak furniture, brown rug hook hangings, and violets everywhere.

I was rarely allowed in the blue guest room so that it stayed nice for guests, but it, too, reflected her personality. Purple and blue floral wallpaper with one white stucco wall. A chenille bedspread, decorative blue and purple pillows, and blue shag carpeting - it became my mom’s room when we moved in with my Nan, my brother’s when my mom moved into my Nan’s room, and my room when my brother moved out. It was fitting because no matter how long I lived in my Nan’s little duplex it was always and forever still her home, full of her memories, and reminders of the vibrant person she was in every carefully curated corner - it made sense that we all spent some time in that room she’d allocated especially for caring for and comforting visitors.

I was always taken with the fact that she had this dedicated, decorated space just for helping people feel at home in her home. One thing I was really excited about in moving into our little house was making our own little guest room - and while in between visitors it doesn’t stay as pristine as my Nan’s did (it’s a bit of a storage collector), it’s been really lovely - almost therapeutic? - to prepare it for visitors, and think about all the ways I can show them love, and care, and comfort in this tiny bright space.

I’m moving into this house s l o w l y it turns out, and that has meant waiting for each room to really become what it needs to be. I think the guest room is finally finished, so I wanted to share it with all of you. We just had a good friend come stay for a couple days, and next week my dear friend Amy is coming to stay, so I’m looking forward to getting it ready for her, too. My goal is always to have a space where people feel comfortable just closing the door for a bit for an afternoon nap, or reading a book or two, and recharging, with the lovely trees overhead behind the house, and the stellar jays & sparrows flying around the garden, and occasionally our cats aggressively sneaking in for cuddles.

One of my favourite parts is that that white chenille bedspread is the exact same one my Nan had on her guest bed.

So here’s our bright & cozy guest room.

Some guest room books, and a cute little house planter from Spruce Collective, vintage quilt from Circa Vintage, and that white bedspread is the very same chenille cover that sat on my Nan’s guest room bed.

This sweet Cultus Lake photograph was thrifted.

Beans and this Boston Fern are best friends and the fern should probably be a bit frightened. Little purple violets like my Nan loved.

Rocky Mountain Soap Company wellness spray (this stuff is delightful). The piano has nowhere else to live, so it’s serving as a little bookshelf/tv stand for now.

Jack and Audrey’s lovely body oil bought at Pick Eco Refills downtown, and a Minter Gardens pilea.

Antler from Kilnhouse Studio

Sweet little Godin mushroom print is thrifted, and the painting of my Grandpa is by Nichol Duenes of A Vintage Cloud.

Majestic. This poor fern.

Where the magic happens

Well, if the magic is a somewhat better organized cozy office through which I do hours and hours and hours of editing.

We moved last JULY, and last week during the snowstorm I actually took a breather and focused on putting my office together - and let me tell you, it’s glorious. Still cluttered, still dusty, but a functional space that doesn’t make me feel like the lady from Labyrinth who carries all her things on her back.

From “Labyrinth”, 1986. This is 100% the character I would be in the Labyrinth. She had some great stuff.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m always going to have a chaotic workspace. One of my report cards that got sent home to my mom in Grade 5 read something like, “Sarah needs to work on keeping her workspace organized and less chaotic”, and I still remember how I’d created a sort of cluttered magnificent island around my desk - surrounded by bits of paper, half-started projects, and whatever I’d lugged to school with me that day. I cringe a bit thinking about it, like - our messy workspaces are things we keep hidden in the deep dark comfort of our homes right?! - but I also think it was part of my process - when I make art, I make art messy - and it drives some people bananas.

All of this being said, I still like things to be in their place - I like when a space reflects me, when it feels creative and changeable and open. I still have lots of work to do but I’m really grateful for this little space - I have no idea how I got the mountains of editing I had this past summer/fall done in a space surrounded by half open boxes. At our old apartment everything was brown - brown carpets, brown walls, brown countertops and very few windows - and I don’t know if I can properly explain to you how grateful I am for these bright white walls and gigantic windows that open - it feels pretty awesome to start doing this space justice and making it a creative haven.

SO, without a lot of dusting and/or cleaning - or even any setting up, here’s a little peek at my workspace - a mixture of plants I’m barely keeping alive, a My Favorite Murder quote, and a mixture of prints and paintings from local friends, artists, and people who’s art I love.

I’ll update this further when it’s actually, really, honestly finished - but for now, here’s a little tour of where I do all my computer creative stuff.

I think I picked up that sweet little painting at a market, the ship from Spruce Collective, the lunar garland from Fern Craftwork, the swans from Rifle Paper Co, and that sweet little copper handprint is actually my brother Brad’s.

Jamie started putting these googly eyes on everything, except the glue on the back could probably withstand a nuclear apocalypse so this is just how my desk lamp looks like now. That beautiful plant I’m trying not to kill was a gift from my friend Jennifer Foik.

Hang in there, beautiful goldfish plant! I spraypainted the shelf from Ikea with gold metallic paint. I learned that a) metallic paint will chip/scratch very easily and b) make sure you dust that shelf before you paint it. A part of Beans’ hair will live on forever embedded into this shelf. The embroidery is done by my Great Aunt Buddig who was an amazing artist. This whole post could so easily just be photos of the wall above my computer though, let’s be honest. I love it so much.

A little rainbow from Lennon and Birdie, and a (bellows?) passed down from my grandmother.

This poodle was from Value Village where someone donated their entire poodle collection. I went back like 3 times and finally I just had to take one home. I still haven’t unpacked the majority of my books (we don’t have bookshelves anymore, and I feel super scandalous sharing that with you) - so I just have a few old standby’s sitting out here and there until I figure things out.

I just have a real soft spot in my heart for listening to records. Always reminds me of when I was a kid. - I can’t remember who made the macrame unfortunately, but I got it at a craft market.

Ok ok ok last one of this beautiful wall, my favourite part - and some more Fern Craftwork and a local grain piece by my friend Kimberly Francis. Our house is covered in her work - some of the very first pieces we put up on the wall.

Little vintage quilt from Circa Vintage on the top of my chair (workspace is still super messy - I need some external hard drive/wire hiding) and a sweet little rug hanging - again from a market, but I can’t remember who made it.

Mamas, meadows and beautiful golden light | Chilliwack Maternity Photographer

Ok, fast forward back to early summer, when I'm driving around one of my favourite new places and stumble across this random amazing meadow on the side of the road. By August this place was in full on bloom with tiny purple wildflowers, and I knew it would be the perfect place to do maternity photos with Chelsea and Chris. Lemme tell you about Chelsea and Chris: They are two of the loveliest people you could meet. To be honest, this entire paragraph was originally just going to read "CHELSEA AND CHRIS ARE AWESOME" followed by photographic evidence. 

...I'm terrible at blogging. But honestly, this session and these people hold a real special place in my heart, and I'm so grateful I got to share a few moments with this wonderful little family.