There is a leaf that sits upon my arm, and I frequently get asked if I am in fact Canadian. When the response is, "no, I am not." I get a slew of other comments regarding the tattoo. Well, here I am to clear everything up for you curious beings.
When my world comes to a halt, usually every year around September, I look down at my leaf and remember that it is just a season. That even when I thought I would never move through it, I did. It is my reminder to hold on and keep going. That the darkness, although unbelievably consuming at times, is only temporary. Read More