Filed under: Uncategorized
I’m going to try to figure out a way to connect the tumblr posts to this… but I don’t think it’s going to be easy.
So here it is: Embrace.
Follow my exploits as a post-grad metal-mouthed homo. Laugh at me and learn with me.
Love,
Kai
The episode in question was titled “Furt”, which is a combination of Finn and Kurt for those not in the know.
Tonight’s episode was a special episode. I briefly spoke about it on tumblr while I was still on my episode high, but now that it’s died down I am far more calm and am better capable of coherently typing out my thoughts.
I don’t always love glee. I find that when they stunt cast and throw in songs for the sake of a tribute, it ruins the show. I find that the emotional resonance of the storylines and the songs don’t come together quite as nicely as when they find songs that service the story.
In “Furt”, Finn comes to terms and rises above his internalized homophobia. At the wedding of Kurt’s father and Finn’s mother, in front of the entire party he tells Kurt that he has shown him what it means to be a man. He then dedicates a song to Kurt and sings Bruno Mars’s “Just the way you are” to him, singing the parts to his mother, his girlfriend Rachel and the chorus to Kurt. He then pulls his new brother up to the dance floor and dances with him.
Seeing two men dance, platonically, is something revolutionary. These characters have stripped themselves of the homophobia that would normally surround this sight and on prime time television they are redefining masculinity and breaking down gender barriers.
They are showing what it means to truly love.
Filed under: Photos
Some really wonderful photos of a beautiful model I had the pleasure of photographing.
Check them out by clicking HERE.
Quick update.
Last night, a photograph I took of friend Adam MacQuarrie as Robin…
…sold for $1350!
All proceeds go to support Buddies in Bad Times Theatre. “gleaming” was auctioned off at ArtAttack, Buddies in Bad Time’s annual art auction fundraiser and my piece was curated by the fabulous Ryan G. Hinds. So thank you to all of my friends and family who have supported me throughout my creative journey. I love you all!
I also just had an amazing creative meeting with my friend Jenna, and we were able to bounce ideas off of one another quite nicely.
The past few weeks, and the weeks coming have all been super hectic. Two weekends ago I was in Waterloo visiting my friends Brad and Erick, who have just moved into their brand new home and I am so happy for them! Last weekend I was in London, road-tripping with Betti and Mona to visit Niki for her birthday. During that trip, I also got the chance to fit in a quick lunch with my sweetest friend Karen Zhang, and a big shout out cause she turns 23 today! Happy Birthday Karen!
That is all for now, but I hope everyone is having a great November so far.
Love ya’ll,
Kai
This might sound silly.
But I was thinking about all the music I listen to, and how a lot of is about loss, heartbreak, rejection, goodbyes, so longs, farewells, etc. And then I thought about “Why?” Why do I listen to this stuff?
Maybe there is something cathartic about this type of music. It helps soothe me after a long day; a long day of talking about loss, studying corruption, hate and oppression; in school, on the news, in the world around us–and this especially matters if I really take into account everything that lead to me being so lucky, sitting here in front of a lap top, living in Canada, going to university, driving a car…
Everything we do is built upon death.
Some of us see it, some of us don’t, because the truth lies right beneath our feet.
It’s that thing we ignore, we take for granted. This solid ground that holds us up while we ignore everything bad.
And so there is music and art about these things, about better worlds and better lives….to help us heal. Reconcile. Remember.
So, imagine.
That:
Maybe one day there won’t be any more unnecessary deaths over oil, water, iPods, cars, jewelry, homes, wills, love–hopefully we will one day be able to heal ourselves and not succumb to these kinds of urges over such silly things.
And focus only on the joyful, happy, beautiful things.
Where, while I walk I can listen to the rhythm booming out from the side of a street where a group of musicians have decided to play because they can and it makes them happy. And up in front by the subway entrance, a painter is painting a lamp post and a man is taking a photograph and two guys are holding hands and a Christian girl is praying silently to herself on the grass while her Muslim boyfriend is preparing their picnic, all of the food grown in their community garden.
And we understand the sanctity of life; that marriages are about love and partnership after and not necessarily all that important when you think about how silly the entire institution is, where all cars are communal and people can travel great distances without destroying the world because it’s all about the adventure of getting there and not flying over everything and she helps him carry his bags to his apartment door steps and if people want to have sex they have sex in their homes, in private places or in places where they know they won’t get caught–all for the thrill of feeling young and if they do get caught, no one will care because sex is such a natural urge and they get it too.
And of course we work and support the world by sharing trades, products, food, and skills and try to find some sort of peace because we all understand and value the idea of work and freedom and honesty. We can acknowledge that sin exists and reconcile it with the human body–don’t fight, but let the urge pass through and funnel it into something more appropriate, because we’ve learned to master our mind, soul and our body–all through the understand and acceptance of patience.
But until then, we won’t get to this place without change.
Spread hope.
Imagine.
Better worlds.
For us all.
Love,
kai
Filed under: Family
I spend a lot of my time talking about Love.
I think about it, dream about it, write about it, sing about it and I read about it. And anyone who knows me well enough would know that deep down, I am a hopeless romantic. I half expect to meet my future husband under the circumstances where Julia Robert’s would be playing me. In 1995.
But unfortunately, unless your one of the (un)lucky few, the stuff of Rom-Com’s won’t ever happen to you. Katherine Heigl you are not (and thank the lord).
What I seem to forget about though are the other types of love, one of which I have been really wrapped up with as of late–the love of family. Now, I am not using the term family in the “traditional sense” of a mother, father, sister and brother where everyone is bound by blood and DNA.
But rather, I am using the term family in this sense: simply, a group of people surrounded by Love. The chosen family. The family that comes out of growing together and living together and fighting, kissing, hugging, dancing, learning, leaving, and ultimately loving each other not because your DNA says so, but because you know deep down in your heart, something far more intelligent than your brain, chooses so.
If you are so lucky as to find these types of people; who love you beyond your faults and failures, who will celebrate your successes and mourn your losses, who will stand by you when the world goes dark–hold on to them.
Don’t let them go.
Never let them go.
Today I wore purple.
[This is obviously not me. I don't make faces like that. This is my friend, Mikey]
I wore purple because I wanted to be identified with the LGBT community.
I wore purple to commemorate the loss of lives at the hands of homophobia, bullying, and self hate.
I wore purple so that perhaps some closeted child, teenager, adult or senior could look at me and recognize that they are not alone.
I wore purple on October 20th, 2010 because, well, I’m gay.
As a minority that is quite literally invisible, it’s difficult to recognize that you’re not alone, especially when you’re naive, questioning, terrified, or curious. Unlike the many other civil rights movements we can’t identify other gay people just by looking at their skin, chest, or hair. And so to remedy that lack of visibility, members of the queer community have come up with many creative and interesting (babes, we gots da style) ways over the years to identify themselves, such as the handkerchief code special eye-contact aka cruising (a Mona Lisa Smile for the lesbians), pink triangle/rainbow flag stickers, buttons, tattoos, key-chains, necklaces, bracelets, bumper stickers, etc.
But even with all of these wonderful innovations, it is still difficult to “find one another,” especially if your home town doesn’t have something like Boystown in Chicago, Davie Street in Vancouver or The Church and Wellesley Village in Toronto.
In the days leading up to Spirit Day (because purple represents “spirit” on the Pride flag), there was a lot of discourse made public by people who thought this entire event to be silly and useless. I wholeheartedly disagree. On the other hand, there were people who criticized the day and offered suggestions on how it could be pushed further, like instead of wearing purple, donate your time to a cause that helps youth or adults who are coming to terms with their sexuality or who need support, like SOY or Youthline. Or do both. I wholeheartedly agree and support this idea.
But for now, gentle readers, I want you to try to think back, back to before you blossomed and overcame all of the trials and tribulations of being an outcast and try to remember how difficult it was (and if you’re one of those queers who had a happy-go-lucky childhood with supportive parent(s), well, you’re one of the lucky ones). Do you remember? Does the hurt feel familiar? Maybe you still feel it a little today. But back then when you were so much smaller, just imagine how troubling it must have felt to your 5, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 year old self.
Now what if one day you went to school or work and saw a group of people walking around wearing purple? I mean, you must have heard or read something on a newsfeed about purple… and gays… and the wearing of the colour…
Well, chances are a whole lotta peeps all over this country probably felt something good inside when they were in the know and spotted someone wearing purple (I know I did! Several times. With several different people…); a small glow of warmth, some hope, a little bit of strength, enough to keep them going. Enough to believe in something better (much akin to those who wear pink…).
But yeah. I totally understand. Wearing purple was totally useless today.
But I guess the massive amounts of people wearing purple today probably didn’t turn any heads at all, let alone start a conversation about why everyone is wearing purple. And I suppose it was a total waste of breath for all of those kids, teenagers, adults and seniors who wore purple today who had to explain to their parents/friends/siblings/teachers/colleagues/strangers why they decided to toss on such a “faggy” colour.
So if you are one of those people who decided to proclaim that wearing purple was useless and doesn’t actually “save gay kids”? Coming from someone who contemplated suicide until one day in grade 10 when he finally saw an out gay person and realized that he wasn’t alone, all I have to say is fuck you. Fuck whatever hang-ups you have over celebrating and remembering and empathizing with those who aren’t as strong as you are. And to be fair, I can’t actually know why you think wearing purple is stupid or ineffective (nor do I care at this point), but personally it comes down to the fact that if you’re someone who is incapable of believing that such a small act of solidarity and Pride can do no good, well, you must be pretty damn cynical.
I feel sorry for your heart.
Don’t come to Pride.
[Kidding. Please come to Pride. It simply won't be the same without you....but do RSVP, seating is limited.]
Anywho.
We won’t judge you for realizing you weren’t thinking too clearly about what it means truly, deep down to wear purple. But I do thank you for your lack of support, because it in turn sprouted this post. So really, even though you didn’t wear purple you most certainly motivated myself and many others to wear this wonderful, beautiful, powerful colour.
Love,
Kai
Filed under: Song of the Day
…for the Saturday gays.
Kelis – “Scream” ft. David Guetta
Party hard, mother fuckers.
Lyrics:
We’re running a place for such a long time
Stucking a race in the whole night
Where did it all came down on me
And I have a faith in such a long time
… a place of head of my mind
Should it all fall down on me
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to say such a scream
If you don’t let it out
You have enough
Don’t call your bluff
You can’t pack down lost in a crowd
You’ve wondered right to scream and shout
Don’t talk about
You’ve lost your cool
There is no boy who makes the rules
So let’s get to it
Now you’re cool
Break out
Scream and shout
Scream and shout
Scream and shout
Scream and shout
We’re running a place for such a long time
Stucking a race in the whole night
Where did it all came down on me
And I have a faith in such a long time
… a place of head of my mind
Should it all fall down on me
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to say such a scream
… your…
Raise your arms
You’re on your own
But not alone
Make cities… you’re on the ground…
Don’t make yourself
So let’s get to it
Now you prove it
Scream and shout
Scream and shout
Scream and shout
Schream and shout
We’re running a place for such a long time
Stucking a race in the whole night
Where did it all came down on me
And I have a faith in such a long time
… a place of head of my mind
Should it all fall down on me
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to say such a scream
Break the chains
No one’s a falling down
Break the chains
No one’s a falling down
Break the chains
No one’s a falling down
Break the chains
No one’s a falling down
Here it comes
No one get falling down
Here it comes
No one get falling down
We’re running a place for such a long time
Stucking a race in the whole night
Where did it all came down on me
And I have a faith in such a long time
… a place of head of my mind
Should it all fall down on me
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to live such a stream
It’s not enough to say such a scream
Love,
Kai
It’s only Thursday and already so much has happened.
A lot of what I write on this blog is filled with emotional sentiments–mostly to do with nostalgia, or my own tiny little epiphanies that for me are monumental and to the rest of you, maybe something you don’t understand or understand far too well, and you too can remember how it felt when you first experienced that glowing realization–whatever it may have been.
And to take flight from such a high to land on such a low–to have an extraordinary weekend meet such tragic loss. To be reminded of your own mortality amidst the things that you once thought, and probably always will believe to be important–artistic pursuits, fame, love, getting drunk with new friends and dancing the night away–it shakes you a little, tiny vibrations that sneak into the very core of your being. But you shake them off and the move on.
I went for my semi-annual STI and HIV test yesterday. The nurse, who I have seen many times before commended me on my consistency and my care. The truth is, I always try to be very safe when it comes to sex; I take the usual precautions and have the obligatory discussion (sometimes very brief ones) before I do the deed, but when you don’t know someone too well and they provide you with the answers you want to hear and you take it for truth and you give them your trust? Well, there is our inevitable death wish. And I realize that this is my life, and the same probably goes for many other GLBTQ men and women (and some straight, I hope) out there–this is something we will face for the rest of our lives–in this lifetime, at least.
In the search for joy (whatever that may mean to you) we must always remember that our lives are unbelievably fragile. No matter how hard we work out or how well we eat and exercise or limit our exposure to cancer inducing chemicals, our attempts at control reveal how we are all so very delicate. And even in moments of lust and ecstasy, to throw yourself into that loss of control, no matter how safe you think or wish you are, there is what seems to be the tiniest risk ever–but also the potential for the most monumental consequence of our lives.
And in thinking about taking risks, about love and sex and death and how it’s all connected on some very simple level, because everything we do is ultimately connected to Love–in its lacking and abundance, in its loss and in its presence, every choice we make we hope will bring us closer…
