I was born in Dublin, Ireland, but moved to Canada when I was six years old and have lived in Calgary ever since.

I’ve often felt the only thing I’ll ever be truly great at in life is writing too honestly. Loving too loudly. Like my heart will always be a 3AM noise complaint with the neighbours shoving their brooms up
into the ceiling of their apartment
telling me to keep it the hell down.

That’s the most terrifying part about being an artist. Exposing the most vulnerable, painful pieces of yourself for an audience to dissect like a biology project. But we wouldn’t have some of the world’s greatest masterpieces if artists decided to stay quiet. These are the fresh cups of coffee on a crisp autumn morning. These are the lipstick stains smeared on white collars.