The last couple of weeks I’ve been getting back into the creative groove by becoming a mini-groupie of an up-and-coming musician Henry Nozuka. Lindsey Drennan and I found out about him when we went to The Piston on Bloor last Monday to view the short film premiere of Making Sense by Natalie Johnson. He did the soundtrack of the film and was there for the showing and we were both amazed at the sheer ease and passion that he played his songs with.

Since then, we’ve followed his band Down By Riverside on MySpace and followed him and his brothers playing around the city at Supermarket in Kensington on Sunday and at The 460 last night where Henry and a few of his brothers played music all night to celebrate his birthday (the youngster turned a whopping 20 years old).

While I can’t speak on Lindsey’s behalf, I can speak on mine and say that this guy has sparked back the inspiration that I’ve severely needed this last little bit. Henry walks through life not needing much more than his blue guitar and a pick. Choosing to perform most of his sets barefoot at open mic nights around the city, and subsequently on the curbs outside said establishments because his devote followers can’t get enough and want more, Henry is a bit of a local celebrity in downtown Toronto – a small celebrity, but one nonetheless. Humbled as he sang through his set last night, clearly shocked, amazed and appreciative of all his friends making it out to celebrate, his calm, idle smile he usually carries was a wide grin as his fingers strummed his guitar and his voice cooed his Jack Johnson-like rhythm lyrics.

Living in this cutthroat world can make finding inspiration rather difficult at times. The competition to always get ahead, be first, have the life society wants can be draining and often de-motivating. Where I stand in my life right now, smack dab in the middle between creative freelancer and corporate entity, it’s difficult to constantly make sure I’m inspired and motivated. Having the corporate world stare down at me while I go against the norms is a little daunting, scary and risky. But when you really think about it, aren’t those the same things that make the end result that much better?

I’m amazed the most at the way Henry seems to go through and against the societal norms with ease and without expectation. He carries himself with love and acceptance of those around him (“peace, a better world is possible” is his current status on Facebook). No judgment, anger or jealousy. He owns no cell phone, but everyone knows how to get a hold of him and where he’s going to be. He takes donations wherever he plays in Toronto, not for his livelihood but for organizations that are in need (last night’s donations were for flood victims of Pakistan). He canvasses during the day for wildlife organizations and charities and is just happy. It’s a type of personality and lifestyle that one can find envious.

Instead of being envious, however, we can use experiences we have in life to inspire us, help us realize and remember that each and every one of us are different and help this world in different ways. And it’s pretty amazing when you find that inkling of inspiration. Go find yours.

Henry Nozuka plays alongside his brother Christian every Sunday at Supermarket in Kensington Market and other establishments around the city, say hello and he’ll gladly tell you where you can find him playing throughout the week.

During this morning’s daily ritual of running into my roommate’s room to show her my outfit and ask her opinion and approval, right after she declared it’s fashion ability, she looked at me weird and calmly stated, “Your upper body is so small it’s annoying.” I laughed and asked her to repeat herself. “I wish I had your boobs,” she added as well.

“Well I wish I had your legs, so don’t worry!” I replied. Then we spoke about how if we could somehow put our two body types together, I’m sure at some point, we’d find something else to hate about them. Without doubt, this got me thinking about women and our obsession with finding the perfect body. Whether it’s in the body parts of our friends, the models in magazines or our favourite celebrities. Why aren’t we just content with what we’re dealt at birth?

I have a very Italian pear shaped body. And my roommate’s right, I’m very grateful for my small chest and torso as I can squeeze myself into things you wouldn’t believe for the amount of weight the scale tells me I am, but somehow, when looking in a mirror, I find my eyes trailing down to my thighs and knees. There’s just too much there I often tell myself. So I run, kind of; do spinning; now, I’ve started kickboxing; participated in Boot Camp; Pilates; yoga; swimming – etcetera, etcetera. The problem? The torso keeps getting smaller and those thighs never seem to fade. I know the rules of weight loss and muscle management. I know butt and boobs are first to go but the frustrating thing is how long it takes to get it off and all I have to do is go on vacation for a week and pretty much three months of hard work goes down the drain.

So why can’t we just be happy with what we’ve got? How come right after my roommate complimented my upper body, I immediately shifted conversation over to the things I hate about it? This got me to thinking about how we interpret compliments and our self body image and how we think others perceive us. At times, I can half-heartedly complain about my severe lack of breasts, but if there is a time that I’m wearing a bit of a cleavage-bearing top, I feel extremely self-conscious. I’m not used to people looking at my chest and not my eyes – it’s like nothing will ever make us happy. Although I don’t think I’d ever want to be the type of person who actually enjoyed someone staring at my chest instead of my eyes, but that’s another story.

All of this made me realize that although I love my body about a hundred times more than I ever did while hitting puberty, and while celebrity junk food news and idealistic, ridiculous fawning over plastic surgery Barbie faces (ramble!) has become the norm for today’s teenagers to look up to, there’s still something off with what I see when I look at myself in the mirror – and I don’t think I’m alone in that department.

How do we change this self imposed body image we have on ourselves? How can we just love what your momma gave you? How do you do it?

“Most people would rather be certain they’re miserable than risk being happy.”

I saw this quote today and started thinking about life and the way we live it. The way we walk through each day, focusing on the people who cut us off while driving, the rude barista at Starbucks in the morning or the fact that no matter how early we leave to get somewhere, something always manages to make us late. I am no stranger to being this person sometimes. It happens. It’s inevitable. The inability to be positive at all hours of the day.

Then I can talk to people who really are able to put things in perspective for me. Like a sister. Who thankfully is bored enough at work that she can write me emails that remind me to live in the present and not worry about the past. And not the past like last year, but the past like yesterday. It really puts things in perspective, thinking like that. Realizing what’s important and what’s not. Realizing what’s worth expending energy into and what’s not – and remembering how to differentiate between the two.

I’ve happened to realize that nothing is life is simple. It really isn’t. And the harder to strive for simplicity and ease, the harder it is to find. It’s not about finding the perfect routine that will keep you calm at all hours of the day but more about finding that calm within yourself. So that when you are handed a situation that might make you a little colourful, you have that calm that allows entrance for ease.

On the May 2-4 long weekend that just passed, I hosted a party for a few of my closest friends just to celebrate the fact that I could have one (living in Calgary the last two years really put a detrimental plan-stopper on that one) and the beginning of summer.

Over fifteen people came – my highest turn out yet! And I felt it was a great success, mostly, as I realized that we all have so many people in our lives that love us and want to spend time with us – whether we’re single, dating or married. It’s these people that come out from all facets of our lives that we’re able to see just what kind of relationships we are capable of maintaining. I phrase it in that way because it’s hard work to maintain friendships and as the group you’re friends with increases, the harder it is to maintain all aspects of what a friendship entails. The description of what a friendship entails can be grossly misleading as well; depending on whom you’re talking to.

A friend of mine decided to cease being friends with me a couple of weeks ago and I was left hurt, blind sided and (true to form) asking questions to no one in particular about what could have possibly happened. This person was a very dear friend of mine throughout our university years but as we grew older and drifted apart (ranging from what cities we lived in to our careers) our emails remained and the odd phone call was placed. Communication was there between us but we’d definitely lost the closeness we had in terms of breaking news and calling the other on speed dial.
Suffice to say, our friendship hadn’t maintained it’s strength these past few years but I suppose betrayal and loyalty had its hand in the demise of the friendship at the end of the day. I was accused of being dishonest but with no situation – I guess I’m just supposed to know what I did. But I don’t.

For a person who was not in my life on a daily basis, I’m finding it difficult to just let go. I’m constantly wondering what happened and re-thinking everything I’ve done and said over the last month of two. I’m a person who hates being hated. I’m a person who doesn’t like not being liked. Maybe that’s an issue to deal with at another time, but for right now – it feels wrong. Friendships don’t last all the time, I know this, and people grow apart, move on and up or just don’t blend anymore. But I’ve never had a friendship just blow up in my face so quickly with no explanation. We’re done. You’re done. You’re a horrible person. It leaves someone to question – am I?

Could I have done more in the friendship to make sure it didn’t end this way? Probably, I could have done (or not done) whatever it is that garnered me this position of “ex-friend” in the first place – but how are you to know if the other party won’t talk to you?

Many in my life say that dwelling on this situation or even the person shouldn’t matter and I should just move on and rid myself of the negativity. I’m all for it – but tell my mind that. I work in an office alone, being creative and it’s a bit difficult to pull creativity out of the woodwork when you have something blocking it from exposure.

With time, things will improve, I know – they already have, but I can’t help but wonder – if I could go back and do things differently, would I? Probably not. Instead, I would probably go back to the Saturday evening of the long weekend when all the friends that could make it to the cottage, had, and were all eating hamburgers, hot dogs and sausages I had supplied for the party. I stood on the grass watching them like a creep all laughing on the deck and I couldn’t help but smile.

I have amazing friends. I have amazing people in my life that would do anything for me and I’d do the same. I have friends that I haven’t seen in years, yet still make time for me if we need it. I have friends that push me to be the best I can be when I don’t think I have it in me. I have friends that understand my incessant ridiculous love of Sushi and don’t judge. I have friends that will just sit and watch television with me, because I love Cougar Town, even though they don’t. I have friends that love me and fight with me and laugh with me and smile with me. And we fight; I’ve fought with all my friends. The difference is, the friendship is worth way more than the fight and that’s why it’s a hell of a lot easier to maintain.