Maybe sewing won’t work…/Peut-être ça ne suffirai pas de coudre…

Isolation.

It’s been a big theme of my childhood life.
It leaves a big hole.
Where?
In my heart? Nah, the heart doesn’t deal with that crap.

The hole is in my ‘mind (whatever that means).’

In that place where some real happy childhood memories are supposed to be kept: memories of smiles, people, laughter, food, I have other things.
In some places, it’s just a bunch of bad stuff, bad memories, bad feelings, and in other places, I have memories of indifference.

As I’m getting older, I see myself trying to stitch back that hole. It’s a lot deeper than I had thought, and I had presumed it to be quite deep. So, here I am, with my fine-tipped needle and flimsy string, trying to stitch a tear (tear is read as TARE, like when you tear your shirt by accident) in my mind.

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L’isolation.

Ceci était un gros thème dans ma vie quand j’étais petite.
Ceci laisse un gros trou.
Où?
Dans ma coeur? Non, la coeur n’a rien à faire avec ces affaires là.

Le trou se retrouve dans ‘ l’esprit (a t’on un définition claire de ce que le mot esprit veut dire?)’

En tout cas,
dans la place où on devrait retrouver des mémoires d’enfances -des mémoires de sourires, des personnes, des rires, de la nourriture- je retrouve autres choses.
Dans quelques places, il y a juste des choses mauvais, de mauvais mémoires, des émotions négatifs, et dans d’autres places, j’ai des mémoires d’indifférence.

Le plus que j’

Centre sportif !

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Lieux où tous les sports se rencontrent

The core holds strong

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Campbell : the core
Everything else can be easily blown away.

A place of evolution.
I went from the jungle gym, to the soccer field, to the court.

Campbell : le noyau
Tout autre pourrait facilement être souffler ailleurs par le vent.

Une place d’évolution.
Je suis allée du place pour les jeunes, au terrain de soccer et du terrain de soccer au court de basket.

Make-up

They put make up on her.
Who you may ask.

Ils ont mit du maquillage sur elle.
Qui, demandes-tu?

I’m talking about the planners, the renovators.
They put make up on her. My home is what I mean by her. The building where I have spent 95% of what I now refer to as my conscious life.
I feel it’s a ploy to attract investors, to attract the rich, to attract money and prestige.
A ploy with a voice like one of our politicians who make empty promises to simply get elected.
« Hel-lo, I-am-here-to-promise-you-so-and-so. »
« Why? »
« Be-cause, I-care. »
They call it a renovation, perhaps a ‘renouvellement.’
Now they have hidden the external wounds that tell stories of many struggles and few victories.

We live there, have lived there, and will continue to live there. That is, if permitted.
We are the ones who carry stories. We are the ones who inflict pain and have had pain inflicted upon us.
We are the fighters, the protecters, the by-standers.
We are the listeners, the see-ers, and the gossipers. We have fought the battles and continue to fight.

We are families. We are individuals. We live behind the uniform dark green doors.
Over the course of each battle there have been scars left inside the buildings as well as outside.

The new windows, new balconies, new backyard, new everything presents a new beginning. The open wounds covered up, never mended. A new beginning that doesn’t include us. A new beginning that neglects the historic warriors.

 

 

Atelier 850

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J’ai passer la majorité de mon enfance et de mon adolecence là et c’est endroit compte beaucoup pour moi

Performance du 5ém Élément

1493479_578608342238201_3540699699841610838_o Performance du 5ém Élément à  l’école primaire du quartier nommée Petite-Bourgogne 

George Vanier

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C’est l’entrée et le sortie principal du cartier

le métro George-vanier

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Entrer et sortie d’un monde  aillant connue la noirceur,la lumière,la haine et l’amour

St. Conegonde Park

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St Conegonde Park.

A calm park on Notre-Dame st. with colourful chairs and a beautifuly painted mural.

Some time of year they put out public pianos that the community is able to come out ant play.