Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
Dear Jann – Thoughts on A Jann Arden Christmas Concert
Dear Jann Arden,
I had the immense pleasure of watching you preform at the National Arts Centre last night for the second night of your Jann Arden Christmas concert.
In 2014, my boyfriend at the time got tickets for your Everything Almost tour. I spent the entire concert waiting to hear you sing You Love Me Back. From the moment I had first heard the song, I thought immediately of my boyfriend, Michael. I had looked so long for love that I had given up trying. When I met him, it was like a forgotten wish had been granted.
When you sang You Love Me Back during your encore, I remember looking over at him thinking that this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Flash forward to three years later: My boyfriend is now my husband and the best parts of my day are when I get to wake up beside him and fall asleep beside him. We walked down the isle to You Love Me Back. We both felt such a connection to the song because it reflected our love so perfectly. Our wedding song was an easy choice.
When I heard you were going on tour doing a Christmas concert, I knew that it would make the perfect gift for two of our friends, both of whom have never seen you in concert. We got tickets for all four of us.
I couldn’t wait to see you again. I love how genuine you are. I knew that the show would be full of Christmas music mixed with your hits. I thought it would be an enjoyable evening and, at the very least, put me in the Christmas spirit.
What I wasn’t expecting was to feel more emotionally moved then the last concert. You sang so beautifully, and you were so incredibly funny. I loved how you acknowledged the band and the orchestra. I loved how, even though we were in a theatre filled to the brim with a thousand people, it felt as if you were singing directly to us.
You sang all your hits and then some and plenty of Christmas songs. You took us on a journey. You connected to us though your songs and your words and your art and I am forever thankful to you for that. At one point towards the end of the concert, you sang “I Would Die for You”. I squeezed my husbands hand and he squeezed mine back. We were both thinking the same thing, that we had finally found a love deep enough for that song to take on a special meaning.
Thank you beyond words for such an amazing and emotionally moving evening. Thank you for your words and your music and your songs which have meaning to so many people. Thank you for giving me the gift of joy. I left your concert feeling upbeat and very much looking forward to spending the Christmas season with family and friends.
With thanks and gratitude,
Jamieson Wolf
Blood Flowers and Hope Seeds – A Poem
Your words are like
flowers. They are
pleasing to the eye,
soft to the touch.
Yet, when I try to hold them,
it is to discover
that needles hide within
the veins of the flowers
and the petals are made
from shards of glass.
I try to hold onto your words
despite the damage they do to me,
try to hold onto what is right,
what is fair, what is just.
They cut at my hands,
causing blood to colour the glass petals
as if I am holding onto roses.
I clutch at the roses,
red with my own blood,
hoping that you will keep your word,
that you will honour
the vowels and syllables of your promise,
yet I know that it is futile,
that if I am to have any peace,
if I am to have any closure,
I have to let the flowers go.
So, after months of holding onto false promises,
my hands slashed to ribbons of flesh
that only I can see,
I take the flowers to the highest point
that I can find.
I have climbed to the top
of a large mountain.
I have been here before.
I look around me at the other things
that I have let go of:
Tarot cards and trinkets,
other words shaped like daggers,
secrets shaped like treasures.
As I stand there on the top of a mountain,
feeling the cool wind of change
caress my face,
I let the flowers go.
As they fly through the air,
the sun hits the glass petals
and the shards of needles held within.
Their reflection is almost blinding
and each promise unkept
becomes a wish instead.
The flowers flutter through the sky,
droplets of blood falling to the ground.
Where the blood falls,
a flower begins to bloom,
as if each droplet of blood
held a seed.
Those seeds grow into hope
for a better future.
the lacerations on my hands
begin to heal and the blood
starts to dry upon my skin.
I can finally head home,
knowing that I am
free.
Live on The Couch!
I had the immense pleasure to appear on The Couch, an online radio show ran out of Cornwall Ontario.
Its hosts, Shannon and Erica, were lovely and absolutely magical. We talked about my writing and my current release Lust and Lemonade, what it was like to be gay in the world today and many other subjects
Shannon and Erica were enthusiastic and wonderful hosts. You could tell that they loved what they did and that came through in how they interacted with me. Being on their show was an absolute joy. Even better, they have invited me back!
It was such a blast and so much fun being on the radio. Even cooler? They took a live video of the whole thing! So, you can watch the whole thing. Just click the link below, hit play and sit back with a cup of tea and enjoy The Couch.
https://www.facebook.com/dunetonline/videos/672167762988487/
Or you can listen to my appearance on The Couch by clicking play below.
You can learn more about the show by visiting http://www.dunet.ca/
Thank you to Shannon and Erica for having me on. It was an absolute blast!
The Gift That You Are – A Poem
I am,
first and foremost,
a writer.
I am unable,
most times,
to speak what I want to say.
And so,
like every writer,
I turn to words.
I try to emote without speaking,
paint my emotions across the page with ink.
When I write of you,
I find those splotches of ink,
usually so vibrant,
and alive,
so lacking.
I can’t find the words to tell you what you mean to me.
Usually,
the ink forms letters,
and I can arrange them into shapes,
forming syllables,
sounds,
and words.
I have never known a man as beautiful as you.
I have never been so supported,
so respected,
and so loved.
You love all of me,
every little piece,
even the parts of me that I don’t love completely.
You see me for a beautiful human being.
Seeing myself through your eyes has shown me that I am beautiful.
Before you,
I yearned for love,
for true,
honest and pure love.
You have given me these gifts,
and I am so grateful for you.
I have tried,
over hundreds of pages,
to show you,
through words,
poems,
and stories what you mean to me.
And they all fall short of the gift that you are.
When I speak,
however clumsily,
I try to tell you every emotion,
every thing,
that I have tried to tell you through ink,
over so many pages,
so many words.
When I speak instead of writing,
I can only get out a few words.
There are only three of them,
but I hope they are enough.
with every fibre of my being:
I love you.
Handmade Holidays by ‘Nathan Burgoine – A Book Review
When we meet Nick, he is nineteen and is alone for Christmas for the first time.
After being forced to leave his parents house, he has gotten himself a cheap bachelor apartment and, because it’s Christmas, a tree of his own. His whole apartment is filled with cast off furniture and rescued accessories.
The only problem is that he doesn’t have any ornaments. He doesn’t have anything. Nick has had to start over and quickly find his footing, leaving almost everything behind. When Nick’s friend Haruto drops by on Christmas Eve, he helps Nick with his tree and gives Nick a gift, a box of candy canes.
When they go to decorate the tree, Nick is crushed to realise he doesn’t have any ornaments to decorate the tree with…until he thinks of the box of candy canes. Haruto asks Nick for a piece of blue paper and folds him a origami crane When Nick places it in the tree branches, he doesn’t know it’s at that moment that the Christmas Eve for the Misfit Toys is born.
As each Christmas comes, more and more people join the Christmas Eve for the Misfit Toys, people who would otherwise be alone but have come together to be with each other. Each year Haruto gives Nick a handmade ornament for his tree.
Nick and Haruto are joined by Matt, Fiona and Perry. Over the years, they are joined by others, other friends and other lovers. The years are filled with presents and with words, always with words.
Nick is a short story writer. Haruto keeps encouraging him to write a novel, to write something longer. Nick always tells him that he’s just a short story writer, but Haruto knows there is a longer story inside Nick trying to get out. Nick just has to tell it…
I loved this story. No, that’s not right. I heart Homemade Holidays. ‘Nathan Burgoine has penned a Christmas classic. My meager plot summary isn’t doing Homemade Holidays enough justice. I haven’t captured the heart and the love that emanates from the pages. I haven’t managed to tell you how beautiful the book is, what with it’s themes of chosen family, of togetherness and of love.
Homemade Holidays is told in the most fascinating way. We are only given a snapshot of their lives, visiting with Nick, Haruto, Fiona and Perry every Christmas Eve. The novella spans fifteen years and we get to watch all of the characters as they grow and change, grow apart and come together again.
The novella also rings so true. When I read it, I could feel the truth in the story. It was as if ‘Nathan has taken a part of his part and made it the centre of a holiday tale. The feeling of truth to this story gives the words more depth and more power. The characters within Homemade Holidays live off of the page and by the end of the novella, I was left blissfully happy and felt full of the holiday spirit.
If you are looking to start off your holiday reading on a good note, look no further. Homemade Holidays has everything you could want in a holiday tale and then some. It left me longing for the holidays when my own chosen family will come together.
Homemade Holidays by ‘Nathan Burgoine is, quite simply, a piece of holiday magic.
Buy Little Yellow Magnet from Amazon and Kobo!
Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 