When a series of cairns appeared on the Spit at the foot of the city a few years ago, they were a mystery. Tibetan prayer flags, painted rocks, wire sculptures and driftwood lined paths; it was a crazy, hidden garden beside the lake where junk became art and the city seemed very far away. A newspaper located and interviewed the creator, he started building there during a period of grief, drawn to the area because he felt it had healing energy. There's no path to the garden but I think that those who need to find it do. Slowly, over a period of time, others have added their creations until it's grown to this amazing jumble of sculptures, paintings, quotes and all around awesomeness. Something magical this way grows.
On a totally unrelated note, I've decided to start being a baby - a great big baby. Feel like crying? Cry. Feel like laughing? Laugh. Want to say something? Say it. I was talking to a friend on the phone while stuck in the most infuriating traffic jam after a very long day. Her daughter had a complete and total meltdown while we were talking; it came in, took over, and passed in a matter of minutes and it was exactly how I was feeling. By the time we hung up her daughter was over it and onto something completely new, I was still frustrated but pretending I wasn't. What a waste of energy it is this nonsense of 'holding it together'.
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