“It comes back to something I have told you pretty often in various ways: that it isn't about how good you are as an artist, but about taking your courage and your curiosity on a journey of exploration. You absolutely do not have to have a special gift for making art. All you need is a spirit of adventure and fun, and the belief that your creative intelligence is always there, waiting patiently to serve you and to do you” - John Graham-Pole, Illness and the Art of Creative Self-Expression

Reading Illness and the Art of Creative Self-Expression by John Graham-Pole felt less like reading a book and more like being gently invited into a space of healing, vulnerability, and imagination. Though it’s written with those experiencing illness in mind, its message reaches far beyond that. It's about rediscovering the artist within all of us and realizing that through creative expression, we can make meaning from pain, find peace in chaos, and connect more deeply with ourselves and others.

The book is divided into ten chapters, each focused on a different form of artistic expression—some familiar, others delightfully unexpected. Yes, there’s drawing, writing, and music - the forms you would typically think about when imagining the domain of the arts. But there’s also mention of gardening, storytelling, dance, cooking, and even comedy; Graham-Pole doesn’t limit art to the conventional. Instead, he celebrates the everyday and invites us to see how even the smallest gestures—our morning routines, from how we move from kitchen sink to the fridge itself is a form of choreography, the way we hum to ourselves absentmindedly while waiting for something to print itself a composition—are forms of creation. Especially in a world that often tells us to be productive, performance-based and marketable before expressive, this felt real.

What stood out to me most was the warmth and empathy that radiates from every page. Graham-Pole, a physician and artist, but also a father, grandfather and most of all, human, writes with the soul of a caregiver. The stories he shares—both his own and those of his patients—are raw, tender, and deeply authentic. They don’t sugarcoat the weight of illness, grief, or death. In fact, in many parts, we delve right into the subject without restraint or disclosure. But instead of shying away from those experiences, he shows us through the book how we can transform these worries into something sacred. It shows us how art can be a container for pain, in a soulful and spiritual way, to speak truths that words alone might fumble.

One particular thought from Curt, a testimonial worker featured in the book, stayed with me on his thoughts about creative journalism: “A journal is like a love affair, a life partner, where you can share deepest secrets with a listening, never judging, ear.” That sentiment, that image of being held without judgment by your own creative voice echoing back to you, moved me. It reminded me of the times I’ve turned to writing or music when life felt too heavy, like Rome and their perception of the mind’s imagination and creativity being a human’s “guardian angel”, on how expression can feel like exhaling after holding your breath for too long, or like a mentor holding its hand outstretched to bring you to a new adventure, running through a field of golden flowers under a blue sky of clouds and thoughts wisping by.

Although I am, admittedly, not currently an ill person (which is evidently the intended demographic of this book as the exercises and narrative is centred towards their healing), I still found this book incredibly impactful. Although it must be said that some sections, especially those that directly asked me to reflect on illness in my own life, didn’t quite resonate in a literal sense, they still made me think more broadly about the struggles I have faced, and how I’ve used creativity not solely as an outlet, but as a means of  growth. The book’s message—that healing doesn’t mean fixing yourself, but learning to live fully and truthfully—is something anyone can connect to.

Above all, and I find this to be the book’s pinnacle message and strong point, Graham-Pole emphasizes that everyone is an artist, whether or not you believe you have “talent,” whether or not you’ve been told otherwise. The act of creating, of letting go of inner judgment and expressing from the soul, is something we’re all capable of. In that sense, this book speaks for people, and perhaps, in a more meaningful sense, from within them. And it reminds us that through art, we can find ourselves once again, no matter how lost we are, to our own bodies and illnesses or our external troubles.
In a time when life can feel fast, cold, marketable, capitalist, quantity-over-quality and commodified, Illness and the Art of Creative Self-Expression holds itself a profound reminder of the beauty in slowing down, in listening, in making and really, in being. I truly believe it can, and has, changed lives - and it certainly changed something in me :)

Thank you John!

I picked up this book because it promised a bit of small town drama, and some mythology elements as well. Selkies have always interested me ever since I first learned about them. The legend goes that selkie women would take off their seal skins and play as human women on the beaches. Then, men from the nearby towns, fisherman, and sailors, usually, would steal the skins and hide them away. The selkie women, trapped, with no way of returning to the sea, forced to become their wives and start a life on land. When they had a chance, whenever they found the seal skins again, they would take them, turn back into seals, and abandon their lives on land.

If you simply read the synopsis of this book, or are even familiar with selkies in mythology, it is incredibly obvious that Oliver Brown, the young main character of this novel, is a selkie (or is at least part selkie). So something that wasn’t too clear to me was why exactly it had to keep being teased. At around the 100 page mark, it still wasn’t fully revealed. It’s very confusing to me how this book was written, I truly think that it should have started with the old tale of selkies first, and then we would get introduced to Oliver much late in the book.

If I’m being completely honest, the beginning of this book is a bit of a slog. The only thing that saves it is the writing style and prose. While a good amount of events happen, about 3-4 chapters were dedicated solely to locals gossiping in a room over a cup of tea. If you like reading about that, then by all means, have fun with this book, but I found a good portion of it to just be skippable dialogue. I scanned most of these scenes, and found that it didn’t really affect the plot. I found a good portion of this book a bit boring at times, because other than Oliver saving Jonathan and Oliver learning about selkies for the first time, there’s not much else? I was more interested in the mythology more than anything, and it’s the reason why I picked this book up in the first place. But the wait to get there was very long, and not really worth it, in my opinion.

Oliver is fine as a character, he’s likeable and all that, but it’s hard to read about him without feeling sorry for him because everyone just hates him. Not a lot of thee other characters were too fleshed out either. I understand that this book is supposed to be like an oral retelling of Oliver’s story, and it does alright with that. This book does well for what it is, but I think it could have benefitted from being structured differently.

The positives of this book are: the writing style/prose, the folklore, the new words I learned, the visual imagery and scenes that this book evokes, and the pretty cover. But other than that? I think it’s a book with lost potential.

Kira’s Crossing
By: Orysia Dawydiak
It’s been a five years since Kira saved her birth parents and other Merrows from the Finnfolk. Kira has just graduated from high school last week and is now trying to pick a collage/university to go to. Her best friend Cody graduated earlier this year and has already headed off to university and Kira deeply misses him. The summer has just begun and Kira feels like her dual life has finally began to feel normal until she learns that the Finnfolk have taking over Merhaven. After Kira’s birth parents, King Currin and Queen Castilla call on Merrows from all over the Atlantic, they were able to take control of Merhaven once again. Finally Kira can relax or so she thought she could, before Kira realizes it she has been kidnapped and she wakes up in a strange place. Can she survive this new ordeal and find her way back home?
I enjoyed this book. It was a great story line to finish the series. I liked the twists and how Kira’s emotions were portrayed throughout the story. I give this book a 4/5.

Book review

Love, Life by Bernadine Stapleton was absolute poetry, it was so whimsical, magical, and full of imagination! I felt fully transported to the wonderful world of Italy while reading it!

I went into this book expecting to be swept into a romantic paradise but came out with an unexpected love for poetry and a new understanding of people’s lives.

Love, Life explored the unique perspective of a Newfie in Italy, and her adventures in yoga, food, travel, love, and ultimately finding herself again.

There were a lot of sights, a lot of yoga, and a whole lot of food! I LOVE Italian food, so needless to say this book made me very hungry!

I definitely recommend this book for anyone who loves poetry, and getting to experience the world from the comfort of home.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Lost & Found in Lunenburg” by Jane Doucet was an unforgettable read! It was touching, funny, and a deeply relatable novel about loss, reinventions, and the surprising ways we find ourselves again. Set in the seaside town of Lunenburg, the story follows Rose Ainsworth, a recently widowed woman in her early fifties who decides to escape her old life by making a bold move—buying a sex shop in a town she barely knows.

What sounds like the setup for a comedy turns into a beautifully layered story of healing. Rose isn’t running away so much as she is running toward something new, even if she doesn’t know exactly what it is yet. The shop becomes a symbol of her independence and courage, and through the quirky people she meets, Rose begins to rediscover her spark.

Doucet writes with warmth, infusing humor into moments of vulnerability and grief. Her descriptions of Lunenburg are so vivid, you can almost smell the salt air and hear the buzz of conversation at the local cafe. But what really makes the novel shine is Rose—an authentic, smart, funny, and strong protagonist whose journey feels both personal and universal.

This book is perfect for readers who enjoy character-driven stories, uplifting midlife transformations, and tales set in charming small towns. It’s a gentle reminder that even in the face of heartbreak, it’s never too late to start over or to find joy in unexpected places. I highly recommend “Lost and Found in Lunenburg” to anyone who craves for a laugh and a good cry in one.