CASIE STEWART
THIS IS MY LIFE • BLOG EST. 2005
Art

the pencil flows on paper twill

the pencil flows on paper twill

Every time I get a new one I feel lucky. It’s like someone opened up world of opportunity and said, ‘Go Casie, you can have anything you want.  If you imagine it, you can have it right here in this fine little book‘. It’s a space wherre I have a conversations with my self and our thoughts. I let them out and they turn into things. I had met with a reporter yesterday which inspired me to pick up the reporter style this time.  I reckon that being left handed I can flip it around nicely to not get pencil lead on my hand as I so often do. I write in pencil mostly.  I remember a poem I wrote ages ago with a line saying how I like the way ‘the pencil flows on paper twill’. I love looking at the notebooks of other people, there is so much creativity contained in these legendary little things. I bought my last one in March and it was nearly full when I lost the little guy.  It was with my laptop and computer and  funny enough, the thing I miss most is the notebook. True story.

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Writing

he just jumped, i couldn’t save him

he just jumped, i couldn’t save him

Earlier this week I wrote about the many relationships I’ve had with hardware, computers that is. The track record of breakage expands further than computers, it includes phones and cameras too. I can’t even begin to think about all the units I’ve been though over the last few years. I look forward to getting to work now that I’ve got a new desktop that stays there. It’s safe from the wreckage that I cause every time a laptop touches my fingers.  As I was leaving for the office this morning, I noticed the balcony door open and casually grabbed for the screen door to avoid any bugs coming inside.  There’s lots up high in condo-life. I attempted to close the door when my blackberry jumped out of my hand.  He must have wanted to go. I tried to stop him, but there was no way. He was full of spite and skid across the concrete heading straight for the edge.  I screamed as if I was being pushed to the very edge myself.  It was loud and full of fear.  I tried to say ‘don’t do it’ but he jumped, he just jumped.  He went right off the edge as if he was at Taupo doing a bungy. Thought flushed my mind thinking, what have I done, what have I not done to make you want  to end it all? I watched the whole thing happen. I saw him falling over 20 stories to what became a very tragic death. I scurried to the elevator, it seemed to be taking a lifetime. I could not get to the ground fast enough. I saw a resident walk past him, his parts were scattered across the pavement.  I wiped a tear and said  ‘WHAT AM I GOING TO WITHOUT YOU?” in an…

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Art

pleasant thoughts fill the head when read

pleasant thoughts fill the head when read

The other day I found a little notebook in my desk.  The noted were all made in April 2008. This is the first time I’ve typed them out and now I’m sharing with you. I hope you like them. The photos are from the warehouse the other day. It’s a creative space I adore. ride me by casie stewart,  april 16, 2008 sunny outlook, brand new, fresh book sun shining outside, take the bike out for a ride feel the sun shine on your face, biking fast, win your own race light a cig, turn up the tunes nothing like the sun in the afternoon flare by casie stewart, april 16 2009 free spirit flowing lyrics,  let it out,  scream & shout! don’t be shy let the words fly, across the page like sprinkled sage like you lost your age! define yourself in this life open your mind, let the words suffice you are the director, a mind reflector direct your movie let your lyrics move me

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Art

does mrs. bennett know i have a blog now mum?

does mrs. bennett know i have a blog now mum?

There’s something here you don’t get in a post on Mashable or TechCruch, CNN, MSNBC, CBC, CityTV, CTV, MTV and all those other newsy post all the time guys. You get a story. I think I should tell more stories. I like to live them out as I try to remeber what really happened. It’s hard to think of them but when I do, I gotta write it down. Ideas only last so long. How do I send from Blackberry? I’m addicted to bloggging. I’m addicted to my blog I think. Is there a cure for that yet? My hand graces my forehead as I mumble Yeah Casie, a job as a writer… I came to the warehouse to work and write a bit. Theres something about being here that makes me feel so at home. When I was little Dad had a big industrial space for the hot rod shop. It smelled like tool box, wheels and work. The 32′ they build had huge Mickey Thompson tires that came up to above my waist at the time. The home garage always had cars in it too and on the weekends Dad and his friends would push them onthe street and the driveway and work on them with their shirts off. sed so stylish. All the kids played in the backyard on the swing set with sun and hats and the sprinkler. Even now, I still love spending time in my home garage tuning up my car and tidying away clutter from inside my house. Which reminds me, I must check up on my best friend soon. She lives in Illinois and the last time we spoke her garage door was broken! There are a few companies who specialise in garage door repair in Addison so I hope she managed…

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Writing

me, the men, the machines

me, the men, the machines

I’ve got bad luck with computers. You think, that being so online and web savy that i’d be all over that shit. Well no. I’m not good with those relationships.  I break them.  I’m rough.  I’m hard on my equipment.  I’ve been through at least one computer every year since 2004 when I got my first laptop for uni….I’ll tell you about it. My first love, a silver one to take to Australia. He was 11.5″ and I called him Richard. He was sexy, soft and sleek. After a year his disk drive  just would not open for me. One of the pixels in his eye lost it’s spark.  We came home  from down under together but shortly after our return  I took him back to the shop.  It was over. He was replaced with a 17″ Toshiba, big David I liked to call him.  He was strong. He was great for late night movies and could bust out loud tunes that made me want to dance all night. Big David, he didn’t last. He crashed,  hard. Must have been those many late nights… movies in bed, after-parties, other people playing. I knew I needed a rebound…. I went to something familiar, the sleek silver 11″ stallion.  This one was German, Medion. I called him Medi. He was good to me. He was the kind of guy you could take anywhere. No baggage, he was light and made me look cute when we sat for coffee and online chatting.  It ended bad. One night we had too much to drink and I spilled red wine all over Shane’s Thinkpad…and he died.  I was mortified. We all were. I had no choice in my kind heart but to give her my Medi. I was sad to see him go. He was…

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LIFE

outside seems so much more appealing

outside seems so much more appealing

I dressed like winter today. I have no idea why. I woke up and was whining ‘it’s cold‘ meanwhile staring at the Weather Network on Blackberry seeing 21 degrees and partly cloudy. I’m a dress/skirt girl. I wore pants and a hat and a big frumpy wooly sweater.  I prove to myself  all my thoughts I’ve had for two days of  ‘I’m not feeling great’.  It’s Friday afternoon and the office is quiet and I know there are beers being had on patios around me.  School next door has free drinks after work and all of a sudden I feel better. The phone rings and it’s Mum who’s calling from the boat up North and has the day off.  It’s lovely to hear her and chat but I’m in the office and have been working really hard can’t leave yet and have more work to do and don’t really have the time to chitty-chat and get sidetracked. We always talk about blog for a minute or two.  She misses it today because there’s no internet yet on the boat for blog reading.  I told her I laid in the grass at lunch and had a smoke and it was nice and sunny on my face.  I get to the point where I have to say “MUM, I’ve got to go‘ in a stern voice and I feel like a character in a chicklit book trapped at the office. I like it.   The book is being written as I live it out each day.  It’s my favorite story. I like this picture.  I like how little my feet are. These babies are a kids size 3 in the US and 2.5 in the UK. That’s mini. Do you follow me on Twitter yet? That would be a damn shame if…

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Art

i’m on the hunt, hunting for you

i’m on the hunt, hunting for you

Remember this video of me walking in the rain to the elegant sounds of Lhasa de Sela singing J’arrive A la Ville? I’m wearing me red Wellies, one of my favorite pairs of shoes. Well, I came back from Florida and they were GONE from my ROOM. walking in the rain from me on Vimeo. Now, I may have misplaced them, it happens, however I can not remember taking them off somewhere and leaving sans shoes. Hmmm?  I really miss them.  It’s been raining for 2 days and I’m forced to wear non-rain-shoes.  I’ve checked my room and condo and it’s pretty hard to hide a pair of big red boots.  I hope they turn up, I’ve had them for years now and I really really want them back. Dear Universe, please find my favorite boots and bring them back to me. Thanks, ♥ Love Casie

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LIFE

i’m blushing now

i’m blushing now

because he wrote this. “There is a reason I started all this gibberish, or at least there was … I had a moment today, a kinky one. Which is true, and it was a moment of pure joy to click on the Awesomest Blog Ever and find a blog void of gibberish. It was one of those moments that can change a man’s attitude about himself and his life for a while… Like the time a man first shaves his balls and realizes he just became that much closer to being just like David Lee Roth in his hey-day… Unchained! And unchained she is… Fun, Honest, Humble and Authentic are just a few of the words I can use to describe this modern artist, without even knowing her or her character. But I can say this… Her genuine nature comes through in her blog and coming from a professional Gibberish Rustler, take it as a lesson… Her words have the power to shrivel nuts of the toughest Gibberish Rustler and make them fall off the body like raisins off a bush. Lucky for me I’m not that tough…“ read it and comment, if you have feelings ♥

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Writing

nowhere else you’d rather be than there

nowhere else you’d rather be than there

You know those days when the sun is shining and you get in the car with a few friends and cruise to the beach or the park. You lay out a blanket followed by food and drinks and you lean back and feel the sun on your face. Your mind is free and in wanders as you feel complete bliss and serenity knowing that there is  nowhere else you’d rather be than there , that very moment in time. I feel like that today, well, a connection to that feeling. This is a me at Newport Beach on Sydney’s North Shore in NSW, Australia. I went surfing for my very first time. It was about 7am and the sun was rising. It was more than beautiful. I met this man in Bondi who’s called the Bondi Groover he said “Life’s not about being naughty, it’s all about 60/40” (in Aussie, that rhymes). 

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LIFE

something from my old guy

something from my old guy

I read over this blog and I think, I know I wrote all this stuff but it boggles my mind trying to remember where and when. I read it and I develop a feeling, a memory, something familiar. Last year on this day I was in Quebec City & Montreal for the first time. Was good fun and very relaxing. Makes me thingk, I feel like I could really use a get away. read something from my old guy on myspace

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