Katie Leggitt

A couple of months ago I wrote about my potato-heart . Today, I find my world under construction. I went to my old building earlier to pick up the last bins from my storage locker and when I went upstairs to my old apartment, I was shocked by what awaited me inside.  Total demolition.  I went to my bedroom and found the floor covered in gyp rock.  The ceiling was non-existant, in fact I could see into the upstairs apartment, and the walls were exposed concrete and wood slats.  I snapped a picture of my feet, and the more I look at it, the more I find it summarizes my current life experience. I don't move into my actual apartment for another week.  All this excitement over moving, a fresh start, and it keeps getting delayed.  I'm living out of boxes while my future home is being renovated upstairs and my old place is being ripped apart.  You know what the kicker is though, throughout all of this? It's my fault. I wanted something so badly that I put giant blinders on

Weird.  I'm sitting in Shaika, listening to Skrillex on my headphones, watching a musician set up for Open Mic Night, something soft on the café speakers..  I'm surrounded by music!  Earlier I was looking at pictures of Joe Strummer and other legendary rockstars, taken by my new hero, Bob Gruen.   I seem to have stumbled into a love of photographing people at a later age, and right now all I want to do is read about his life and how he found himself following some of the coolest people around. They say the average person has five careers in their lifetime.  Five of em.  Five.  I've thought about this before and I feel like I'm at 2 so far.  Actor.  Spiritual Animator.  Sure I'm a writer, but have yet to make a living off of it so until that day comes I'll consider it a passionate pass-time of mine.  Somewhere in me the photographer keeps creeping up and I'm determined to finally take a class this year and maybe let something happen. We'll see. One

You know, sometimes life just feels like a series of unfortunate events.  On my way in from a pleasant walk this evening the door shut on my foot and ruined my new shoes, left me with a bruised toe.  Thursday I found out I wouldn't be moving into my new apartment after all, instead into a temporary flat one floor down for about a week.  Friday night I almost broke my nose when my dog headbutted me while I was brushing her.  I had a big bump and an even bigger scare; just what I need: a broken nose on the eve before moving into my new place. Needless to say I've been feeling a little frustrated with life lately.  I could keep adding to this list but in the back of my mind there's a little voice telling me to toughen up.  It's a pretty tiny voice actually, it's just learning how to speak up for herself. My friend Kirsten Rasmussen , above and beyond being a huge inspiration to me, is a very talented writer and performer.  She put on her one-woman/multi-character s

I always get nostalgic for 90s music when I spend Valentine's Day on my own. I suppose it's because I spent most of the 90s as a single lady.  Mind you I was 8 when they started but 17 when they ended so that's a big emotional gap. I'm listening to Portishead's Dummy and singing along to what I can remember, which is most of it.  I used to stand in my bedroom as a teenager, boombox on dresser, antennae acting as microphone, belting out the often-bizarre sounding vocals of Beth Gibbons.  It helped me rid myself of angsty teenage feelings and recently I decided to take the time to remember lyrics of the music I enjoy so I can do it again.  It's therapeutic for me, even if my singing voice sucks.  :) The most memorable Valentine's Day for me was probably the first one I spent with my high school boyfriend, G.  I was so happy to finally have a boyfriend on Feb. 14th that when I bought the card I didn't notice the giant "To My Husband" on the f

Sometimes I picture myself in miniature sitting in the corner of a musician's heart, knees bent, palm under jaw, wondering where their wisdom comes from.  How did you get here and how the hell do you translate your feelings into such beautiful music? Then other times I'm baffled at my absolute musical ineptitude.  I wish it wasn't so; I even dreamed of myself playing a giant white acoustic guitar on-stage last night.  Someday soon I'm going to learn the drums and then everything will change.  Hhahaha. Prior to dreaming of myself in a band last night, I was at my friend Big James' Endast album fundraiser show.  I sat next to a really old guy and frowned on the punk girls' fox tail purse accessory.  I mean I wanted to puke all over them.  At one point they were standing next to each other, and it looked like an ironic PETA ad.  One of them was even wearing a fur vest to boot. I stopped myself from posting a picture with a nasty comment but still... Come on gi

Hi! So in case you weren't aware, I work in schools and get to do lots of good in the world.  I am blessed and greatful for such an amazing job but could not do it without the support of the teachers, staff and administration, not to mention the great thinkers of the world and people like you. I need you.  No really I do.  I need your help.  Not just for your awesome Facebook status updates, inspirational quotes and great ideas, I need your clothes.  I'm doing a "prom dress drive" at the high school I work at and am reaching out to the community, as well as Montreal designers for a donation of dresses and gowns for this year's grad and prom.  There are several organizations that do this already, and one of my friends suggested it as a way to help out the less fortunate kids I work with.  I guess I took it upon myself to do this because the time feels right.  Montreal represent! So that's where you come in.  If you or someone you know has a lovely, nea

So in case you haven't heard, I'm moving.  I've been talking about it for a couple of months now, and cannot wait to get into my new place.  I signed the lease today and move in on the 18th! My current building was purchased in July by a numbered company.  Like 90210 Canada Inc.  I don't even have a name for the landlord.  All I know is that he's Russian, and so are all the guys he's hired to gut and renovate all the apartments, at our expense.  The building's maintenance has gone down the drain and the communal hallway would still be covered in an inch of dust if my 82 year old neighbor hadn't swept and mopped. It's led me to hate where I live and resent these walls.  Needless to say a move couldn't be a better option for me. I started going through my things about a month ago, and it's dredging up some pretty intense emotions.  Pictures, letters and pieces of paper from a lifetime ago.  A lot of "Oh yeah" moments.  I guess t