a man & his guitar

When lights dim, there's an inkling sense of anticipation. Just like at the movies, you're entire body vibrates with a sense of excitement and eagerness for what's to come.

The lights dimmed at Knox United Church. The sun had finally set and had slowly faded from illuminating the stained glass windows. Once again, the vaulted ceilings held secrets of voices carried and amplified and knew the work in front of them tonight.

The Tallest Man stood on stage in a humble pose with his hands together near his heart. Outstretched his arms and moved towards his acoustic guitar as if it was a lifeline. He snugged the strap on his shoulder and between his shoulder blades. The stage offered no support but one single amplifier, a microphone stand and the treasure trove of guitars.

A lo-fi recording cannot hold the soul, passion, heart, pain and strength that this man possesses in his voice. Pacing somewhat frantically while playing, almost indecisive to which angle of the crowd he wanted to focus on, he was always brought back magnetically to the single microphone where he projected his stories. His trained fingers glided effortlessly across strings, plucking away notes as he simultaneously plucked at hundreds of willing hearts in the crowd. Pouring out stories that needed no words to explain their plot or intent. He drew as much power from his six-string companions as he did his own voice, often losing himself in the melancholy of heartbreak and hope. Pressing his lips to his microphone as he would a comforting lover; his voice shook, screamed, croaked, rose, fell and swept through the brick and mortar of the church. People of every age sitting in the pews needed no religion to sense the transcendence of his voice into their heart. A faith of music and communal awe bonded together over 300 people.

Nervous & genuine laughter was exchanged throughout the night from one man to an entire city. At one time, jumping from the stage to run the length of the pews in the church to see 'just how far back they went' to get a grasp of how many people were listening, ears and hearts open. His stage banter was at times mumbled, but always understood through the reciprocity of love. He would alternate between facing every single row of pews and resting for but a moment on a single metal chair before being pulled towards the microphone again. At times losing select words from a song written long ago, or accidentally finding his guitar no longer attached to the vein of noise to his amp, the simple mistakes only added to his effortless humility and charm.

Clapping and shouts of encouragement crescendoed at any moment of prolonged silence in a minute attempt to express how grateful we were for his honesty and pure love for music. A throng of local Calgarians gathered just outside the doors of Knox United Church, connecting in the community of music and amazement. Someone could say that we had all just exited a sermon of sorts, all having experienced personal revelations which we found almost impossible to vocalize. The groups thinned as friends left arm in arm, or setting feet in the trusted pedals of their bikes. Traveling away into the night, hearts full and open to simple beauties, or dreaming of being the King of Spain.

{Brieanne Elise}

french kiss

Running away to a foreign city to surprise a friend certainly doesn't get your blood pumping. Nor, does it require the upmost secrecy. showing up on a friend's door step will certainly not result in a friend crying & hyperventilating for two minutes. None of these things took place this past

weekend.

Montreal is not one of the most romantic cities in Canada, every street and alleyway isn't filled with beautiful heritage buildings, iron spiral staircases and stunning bay windows. Students and locals alike rarely whiz past you on bicycles with fresh bread under their arms and smiles on their faces. The corner stores aren't generally filled with fresh flowers and local produce.

alright, alright. enough with the false negatives.

Montreal is honestly my second favorite city in all of Canada. I've been incredibly lucky enough to see most of the large cities in our beautiful country, and in my humble opinion, Montreal ranks right up there.

I chose to {surprise} a dear friend who lives in Montreal. After a short flight to snowy Winnipeg, I boarded my connecting flight to MTL. A twenty minute cab ride took me to the

Montgomery Building with it's strong wooden french doors.

After a quick & sneaky phone call to Catherine's roommate/ my surprise accomplice - Olivia, standing behind those stunning double doors was a bewildered Catherine. Crying & hyperventilating ensued briefly, smiles and laughs lasted all night.

Buildings that have history are innately romantic. Anything with age always makes me wonder what stories have already unfurled within it's walls. The Montgomery building boasts its

beautiful mosaic crest as you enter through it's doors.

The inner courtyard is reminiscent of a scene from a Shakespearian play - with sandstone lining window sills, and an iron spiral staircase.

The weekend consisted of amazing coffee shops, gazing and wandering down streets like St. Laurent, St. Viateur & St. Catherine's. Eating the best bagels, Montreal smoked meat, poutine and amazing vegetarian food at Lola Rosa.

// The amazing thing about Lola Rosa wasn't only the incredible squash soup, tofu curry (photographed above) or the mouth watering ginger & balsamic creme brulee. But each vintage, heavy wood table had little drawers, and when opened revealed a mass of handwritten notes, stories, quotes & drawings from previous diners. I'm officially in love.

Lastly on the culinary tour of Montreal, we delighted in the expertly crafted cocktails at Baldwin's Barmacie {This also included swooning over the design and type of their menu. wow.}

You really didn't think that I didn't go shopping did you? St. Laurent is home to stunning independent boutiques and Friperies alike {Free - pur - ri} // also known as vintage stores //

If beautifully crafted clothing is your vice, I would certainly recommend either Les Etoffes and Unicorn Boutique. Or if searching endlessly through vintage gems is more your thing, make sure to make a stop at Kitsch n' Swell.

Any trip to Montreal can't be complete without visiting Old Port. Also known as Old Montreal. The cobble stone streets, heritage buildings, art galleries & boutique hotels all had my heart jumping. Once there, make sure to visit Boutique Rooney.

The store's floor lay out is simple and elegant. The racks display beautiful clothing designed by talent's such as Ella Moss. While the raw wooden tables display gorgeous biannual magazines

like the gentlewoman {with the incredible Adele gracing the most recent cover.} Or stunning crafted leather bags by Heritage Leather.

Old Montreal also allowed me to take out, re-spool {in complete darkness. I would be lying if I said it took anything less than 20 minutes} and shoot with my beloved 620 Kodak Vigilant. This black beauty has been waiting patiently on my dresser for the moment it would be filled with 120 film, and cracked open to capture memories again.

In time, the film will tell back the story of smiles, laughter, wonder, adventure and love.

Paix & L'amour,

Brie

typelove

it's been a while since I played in this sandbox. it seems as though when my writing is my homework, it drains all creativity and drive from me to explore other forms of expression.

however, I recieved a Moleskin notebook for my 21st birthday from a dear friend and since have been moved to scrawl words on the pages.

this entry was from March 14, 2011.

Typeography is the most incredible art form. each type with a personality and voice of it's own. as simple as a persons' handwriting. something that evolves over a lifetime, but is as distinctive as a fingerprint. maybe her hand instinctively links together her 'h' and 'e', like the two have been married, never to be seperated. or he might vary his 'a' depending on the word he uses.

a lifetime is wrapped up in the etchings we put on paper.

does your handwriting say you rush when you write? or does it illustrate your patience? do your hands concern themselves with the space of the page? maybe your handwriting enjoys spreading itself across the page, completely relaxed.

so much pleasure can be found from the fluid movements which direct a pen put to paper. I suggest you give your fingers a break from the incessant clacking of computer keys, and grip a pen.

{yes, I realize the irony and hypocracy in this statement, but it was initially written in a notebook}

peace, love & handwriting.

Brie