Friday, February 26, 2010

living the dream

someone once told me output equals input. they were really smart. life is me preparing for an easter egg hunt. I have been placing these little egg gems all over, in my relationships with people, in my work, with my friends, with my own courage and determination all over the place for years. I feel like so far in the ten, my entire life has revolved around running around and picking them all up. So many things are coming together. All my eggs are in a basket, so to speak. I am skipping along with my basket and my giant smile. It feels amazing.

It just reminds me that if you take the time to be kind to people, go that extra mile for them, and do good work- that you will be remembered for that.

A while back I was up to choreograph a music video for a pretty small artist. I was recommended for the job by a friend, I spent a bunch of hours hashing out ideas, casting dancers, and talking to directors and producers on the phone. In the end, the record label and artist went with a different choreographer. I was disappointed but I reached out to the people involved and thanked them for the opportunity and that I wished them the best of luck on the project.

Today I heard from those people again, they had remembered my kindness and had me in mind for a much bigger, cooler artist. Needless to say, this week in going to be really cool.

Bottom line is that, a no isn't always a no. just because someone doesn't hire you right now, it doesn't mean you are not super talented or in demand, it just means the timing isn't right. At some point you have to realize that it isn't about you-

I really believe the best thing we can all do it just keep putting ourselves out there. The bad thing about putting yourself out there is that you are putting yourself in the direct line of fire for a whole lot of no's, but the delicious thing is that you are also putting yourself in the magical place to live the life of your dreams.

in the span of 10 days: master classes, nationwide print ad, 2700 dance competition entries, one music video, jack johnson + carey brothers.

I am less than talented, less than pretty, less than perfect.

Anyone can do this.

You can do it.

I believe in you.

think of all the wonderful things you could create if you were not afraid to try.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

right on.

things I am happy about:

the moms who taught their little boys to open doors for girls. avocados. the left and right coasts-totally different and totally love able. spellcheck. bookstores. my agents. my glasses. opportunity. yes's. no's. teaching. inspiring. laughing. learning. growing. old friends. standing up for myself. truth. callbacks. auditions. work. paychecks. lack of sleep due to overage of work. loose leaf tea. the honeymoon phase. Clayton at bumble+bumble. elevators. cole. sugarandbruno. national print ad. forgiveness. lavender. mom. hobo. and you.

it's been a super rough day. sometimes it's a good idea to sit down and write down all of the things in life that are going right.

Monday, February 22, 2010

busy as a bee- happy as a clam.

This has been an amazing week. It started with the Sugar and Bruno Spring Photo shoot in Venice with Lacey + Chelsie. We got wacky at the end of the day + this happened.

Then I got to head to NYC and teach some super fun classes:

Today I had my fitting for my nationwide ad that I shoot this week, I love stylists. I have some super cute outfits. I also got 4 big fat giant No's from literary agents from my book. I seriously am doubting if it will ever get published, that makes me very sad. I like to look at giant NO'S as a positive though, I think you have to collect a whole box of No's before you ever get your yes. So, I will keep going.

Today I got two very sweet messages from two very different people:

1) you're the best person I have ever met.

2) you're the best thing that ever happened to me.

these are such similar statements aren't they? The only difference is that one of them comes from someone who constantly takes me for granted, dragged me through the mud and lied to my face over and over again. One of them comes from someone who calls when they say they will, tells me I am important, special, beautiful more times a day than I can count. One of these people had no idea what they had or what they lost, and with messages like this, I can only assume realized much to late. On the other hand, the other one proves to me on a daily basis that he is well aware of how lucky he is to have me.

My point tonight is that, we get defined in life not by what we say, but what we do. It is so easy to make promises, it is really hard to keep them. It is really easy to say you want to be a good person, but it takes effort to actually be good. It is easy to say you adore someone, but it is magical when you actually adore someone. I think it is important that everyone realize that it is really easy to talk about who you are, but it is this whole other battle to actually be that person.

I have learned, this year more than ever to not listen so much to what people say to me, but what their actions say. Someone who adores you, will simply, make it very clear that they ADORE you. You deserve to be adored.

Don't settle for less. I won't.

Thursday, February 18, 2010


So first a sneak peak at one of my new Sugar and Bruno items. This is the "blogger" tunic. This is the first time Sugar and Bruno has designed its own items. Usually, as you know, we make the designs and then print on american apparel. I brought up the idea of actually making garments that really fit, than no one else had, and that were 100% S+B. I love this shirt. The sleeves are super long, and the tunic is long enough to wear over leggings for everyday, or for over booty shorts in contemporary class. Mostly I am in love with the fact that it is my OWN handwriting, and my own words. It is a little piece of my blog for everyone to have. Super special. :) what do you think?

If you like my blog, my writing or me with a smile on my face, I would love it if you went on over to twitter and told @ByrdLeavell3. He is my dream book agent and he doesn't know I am alive.

Second of all today is the first time in
one thousand
two hundred
and sixty six days

that I have been inside a moment and the thought "this is so right" has come into my head. Just like words streaming across the front of my mind.

This. Is. So. Right.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


I believe that the secret of life is being able to find happiness in the moment and being a strong enough person to realize when you have it really good, and be content.

Things can always be better, and things can always be worse. I am not sure that unless you have been dragged through life a little, you have lived enough to be in this mindframe. I remember being 21 years old traveling around the world and taking most of my life totally forgranted. I had a really nice guy and I took him forgranted. My body never hurt, and I took that forgranted too. I just figured I would always be traveling around the world, with a nice guy and a super bendy body.

The best thing I can do for myself is to realize that, really nice people are easy to take forgranted, a really cool life is easy to complain about and there is a reason people stop dancing in their late twenties.

I am having the kind of day where all the things that took ME forgranted are coming to their senses. I love that day.

I am happy I have decided to live my days with people who get me from the get go.

Look around, make a list of all the great things about yourself + your life. You might find it is longer than you thought.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

the more I talk about it the less I do control.


I feel weird. I had the most incredible day. I am almost scared to speak the level of incredible because it seems like every time I speak something out loud it is proof that it exists and then shorty after it gets taken away from me.

So instead I called mom, whispered the good news. Thanked those responsible and went back to empire building. (I booked a national print ad today! eeek. oops.)

I researched each and every literary agent in NYC and LA today. Then I wrote them all letters. Why, when I already have an amazing lady/fairy book godmother? Because that is what "Keltie" does. It is who I am. I chase after my dreams like no other. So what if no one ever opens these letters? I tried. I didn't quit.

I had the craziest revelation tonight over some much needed c.perri time. I am rad. I have been going through all these emotions and being really confused because I was pushing and pulling at the universe and it was pretty much punching me in the face back. I finally figured out why. I was being really untrue to myself. I was trying to act exactly how I thought everyone wanted me to act. I was following those secret rules some woman made up about how you are supposed to act to be happy. What you are supposed to do so that you appear busy, happy, sexy, funny or interesting. The sad thing about it is that, it left me more confused than ever.

I screamed at the top of my lungs tonight this:

I am me. I am loud and abrasive and funny and inappropriate and sullen and shy and introspective and scared and I will love you forever if you let me and I will sing "hollaback girl" at the top of my lungs because its my birthday and I want to. I will cry all day and then do a kart wheel. I don't have to try to act cool or hip because I am none of those things. My life is cool because I work hard and I am determined and that scared alot of people but those people are weak, or they are afraid that they will never accomplish anything. I expect so much out of people because I have spent my life expecting so much from myself. I am worthy of it all. I am cute enough to book a national PRINT ad but I am not cute enough to feel comfortable in my own skin at the "beautiful people mecca" that is the target in Hollywood. I am obsessive. I am spontaneous. When I "like" someone I become completely see-through, if I open my veins the words will come spilling out, they will be spelled wrong. I will never have any of the answers and it doesn't matter how many amazing jobs I book in one day, or how many great auditions I have, or how many books I write I will never feel full. I will never be satisfied. I am damaged and bruised and I have baggage.

I know there is someone out there who wants all these things.

I am a terrible "quitter". I couldn't quit diet coke and I can't quit love.


on a monday.

it's nice to know that perfection exists.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

rotten love.

I think about you and what you've done.

I think about you and what you've become.

I think about me and what i've done.

I think about me and what i've become.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

the subway in hong kong smelled awful + there was a magic mirror in brussels+but the moon in madrid stole my heart.

sorry you wanted to live a boring life lived with safe choices, well thought out plans and the best possible decisions. sorry you wanted to never ever take giant leaps of faith, laugh without abandon or kiss so hard that you lost your breath. sorry you didn't spend your life travelling the world, seeing the most beautiful things on earth and dipping your toes in all the seas. sorry you fucked someone else on my birthday. sorry you didn't love me when you had the chance. sorry you forgot to say thank you. sorry that you waited so long. sorry you didn't see me when you had the chance, because I won't give you another. sorry you were too lame to pick up that book. sorry that you only speak one language, and it's the language of boring. sorry you didn't spin me. sorry you picked her. sorry you picked that. sorry you made all the right choices all the time. sorry you were so afraid of making a mistake that you made nothing. sorry you thought that special people made you special. sorry you sat still. sorry you wanted normal. sorry.

i only feel so much because i chose to live, so much. full, the fuck, out.

i'm not sorry.

Friday, February 12, 2010

she's got it all.

one year ago today. we shot what would be the cover story "she's got it all".

how ironic is that one?

if there was a way to go back to this day in manhattan, i would. this cover changed my life. it was the happiest day for me.

but i can't go back. no one can. we can only go forward.

so here i am- took off my perfect girl mask and i am stomping along in my combat boots of life.

love is a battlefield. only i'm not looking to be loved. i am looking for (me) love.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

(365) days of keltie.

last week, i made a pact with myself that I would focus in myself for 365 days (inspired by my bestie christina...

i went though my fb, my twitter, my phone and i deleted every single person that wasn't my real friend, every single person that was some sort of replacement, or safety net, or even some sort of torture for my heart. i have many of these. its a pathetic collection.

i loved r so much and when i lost him i lost all the best pieces of the best parts of me. i don't really miss him, but i miss the girl i was then. so much. i remember being this free spirit, magnetic girl who everyone instantly fell in love with, who was so damn sure of everything. who had this beautiful faith in the world. I've been searching high and low, in different peoples eyes, in kisses, in words, in books, in dates and dreams and the bottoms of cups of coffee. she isn't there.

the reason i date emotionally unavailable guys is because they will keep rejecting me, and i will keep writing sad little blogs about my poor sullen heart, and i will keep chasing them because i like self-destructive things because hurt is what drives me, makes me creative and makes me successful and it is a terrible way to live.

I like moving to new cities and making it really, really, really hard on myself. i like emotionally unavailable people and trying to change them. i liked when my brother lived in + out of the hospital for 8 years because it gave me a really excuse of why I was so messed up. "well, my brothers hurt". people don't question you after you say that. and you never really have to sort yourself out. its great. except now.

i have no idea where i went, and i want to find me again. i am 28 fucking years old.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


1.Something that is extremely foolish.


1. Slow to learn or understand; obtuse.


3. Incurable.


4. Imaginative but impractical; visionary


1. One who is deficient in judgment, sense, or understanding.

Monday, February 8, 2010

"and the most constant thing about keltie is that she is always changing"

I had this amazing audition today.
It was for a job that I really want.
This job has nothing to do with dance.
It has everything to do with all my other loves lights + camera + action + music.

I rehearsed my sides all day. C.Perri came over and practiced with me + drank tea. I put on my best "hip girl" outfit and she lent me the lucky feather earring.

I walked into my audition nervous. Sweaty. Shaky. I had no belief in myself. I thought, as I do most of the time. "what am I doing here?"

I walked into the room and the casting director said, "oh I remember your photo, it is very cute..and you actually look like it!"

She asked me to talk on camera about myself and instead of my sides, my lines and the English language - the voice of someone I have never met, the very best version of myself came shining through. I was confident, smart, quirky, humble, sweet, knowledgeable.

When I was done she looked at me and said " that was one of the best I have seen all day" then she walked me into her office, grabbed her card and told me to send her my stuff for future projects.


I have had many disappointments in my life. Some of them by other people, and most of the time, I disappoint myself. Thinking that I could have said something different, or handled a situation differently. Disappointed when I walk out of an audition because I didn't point my toes, or dance to my full potential. Disappointed that I yet again, forgot to call my mom. Disappointed that today, even though I said I wouldn't, I drank 6 diet cokes.

When someone else disappoints you, it feels like a giant let down. Most of the time we blame ourselves for building them up and perching them upon some magical pedestal. It feels like trying to control yourself on ice skates. It feels awful and sad.

What is worse though, I think, is when I disappoint myself. Because lets face it, the only thing we can really count on or control in our lives is, us. So, when I put expectations of myself and I fall off my own pedestal, it is the darkest, deepest depression. I hate that feeling. I have felt it, more than I care to share.

But I would feel it a thousand times to feel what I felt walking out of this audition tonight, just once. The beating of my heart, so fast. A skip in my step. A faith in the universe and that I am on the right path. It's funny. I feel more in my heart after a strong audition then I have most of the times I have fallen in love. Maybe that is a clear sign that the love of my life really is work. sad. and happy.

Spagatti says " keltie, you are restless and always unsatisfied and constantly searching. it wouldn't matter if you were an accountant or a waitress or a dancer, you would be like that. it just so happens that this profession gives you an optimum opportunity to explore that restlessness" and he is so right. I love change. I love not knowing what I might be doing a year from now. I love the feeling of doing something different each day. I love the feeling of meeting tons of different people. I love living in a million cities.

Spagatti says "and for you, a stable, long-term relationship with a man will have to be based on your constant need to change.
he'll have to not just get that, but live it with you too

love is never the problem with you, you have an amazing capacity for that"

And so maybe that is it. Life in a nutshell. I love love. I love change. I keep trying to make something in my life static. I keep trying to pin point a moment. A kiss. I word. A dinner. Make it something that will never change. Me and you in this perfect moment forever. It just doesn't work like that for me. That's ok, I guess.

My work is always changing and I love it.

I am always changing and I love it.

If the Beatles were right and "all you need is love"

maybe I have all I need?

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Chapter one:

hi. A wonderful friend suggested that I share begin sharing some excerpts of my book with my loyal readers. So, hi. I want to thank Christopher Gutierrez for being such an inspiration to me, and helping out a random girl who happens to write charming emails. Check out his work @ This is the first chapter of book but not the opening line. My aim was to show the reader that, I have been making the same mistakes for a very long whole life. That my life as a social extrovert/career introvert has been brewing many years. I missed you all last week. Sorry I was away, I have been busy finding my footing in my new city, which is proving difficult. I constantly thank god for diet coke, pumpkin spice candles + you.

Love Keltie.

I am your average, everyday kind of girl. I have mousy brown hair that I dye blonde. I am too tall to be considered short, but too short to be a supermodel. My parents are average people, a schoolteacher and a mechanic. The town where I was raised had the quintessential number of gas stations and one Wal-Mart.

I grew up performing dance moves around my parents’ middle class Canadian home to anyone who would watch. I would constantly run out of batteries for my bright pink boombox. I would sit in the corner and play Monopoly by myself, being both the thimble and the horse when my brother, three years older, was busy in his quest to reach the next highest score in Mario Bros. I am okay at most things. I can make pancakes and eggs, but you would not want me to make you dinner.! I can sing a little, and inside the shower I sound pretty good, I think. I have a slightly large forehead, an awkwardly pointed nose, and suffer from bouts of annoying adult acne. When you mix this together with a pair of perfectly arched eyebrows, a huge smile of straight pearly whites and my golden brown eyes, you get a girl who, when dressed up, turns heads and when grocery shopping at 9 a.m., in sweatpants and a hat, receives not a second glance. I blame growing up in Canada for making me so polite and nice. I come from the land of 'please' and 'thank you'. I have never littered so much as a plastic straw wrapper in my entire life. I like animals. If need be, I can build a really great outdoor emergency lean-to tent out of twigs and a tarp. I know this because in 8th grade I was forced to take an elective class called, Outdoor Education. I learned how to build a fire, basic first aid, and what deer poop looked like. I did very well in this class and received a 98% on my report card. This score made up for the fact that I failed 8th grade French. I could identify deer poop but I couldn't fluently speak one of the two official languages of my country.

Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to be a dancer. I blame it on 80’s music videos where the stars were always surrounded by the coolest dancers in the world who wore trendy costumes and had perfect hair and makeup. I wanted to live in the world of lighting, camera angles, and exotic locations. I wanted to be best friends with the cartoon cat in Paula Abdul’s, “Opposites Attract” video and I wanted to a part of Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” army. I never wanted to be the official star of the video, just the star behind the star, in tap shoes.

I can vividly remember my first, "creative movement" class. I was four years old and wore a pair of pink tights. We were dancing in a circle and I was busy banging away on a Fisher Price drum, inside a big red barn in my very small town. Someone came and whisked me away from the circle. Too polite to interrupt the teacher during class to ask to go to the bathroom, I just stood there soaking my pink leotard and tights with bright yellow urine. Thus began a life of public embarrassment.

Years later I had made almost no progress. I was twelve and had received the “honorable mention” ribbon at Showstoppers, one of the nation's biggest dance competitions. I was the only dancer that weekend who left with the bright pink ribbon and I was convinced that I was special. Years later I realized that "honorable mention" was only given to dancers whose scores were so low that the judges could not award an actual medal. I was nine. I was terrible. I was convinced that I had found my calling.

In high school, I invited my very first boyfriend to watch me perform in a showcase at our local theatre. Halfway through my routine, the snap at the top of my costume came undone and I flashed him and most of my town. By this point, I had already crashed and burned so many times that it did not faze me. I simply continued to do my steps as I reached down, pulled up my top, and refastened it. The audience cheered at my resilience and I learned that it is not about what falls on your plate but what you do with it. Life is about reactions and everyone is just waiting to see yours.

I spent most of my youth being loud and weird in public, but sullen and introspective while alone in my room at night. I would copy down the lyrics of my favorite Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins songs and plaster them around my bedroom. My walls were a contradiction, much like I was: a layer of dark, angsty words, surrounded by ballerinas in gorgeous tutus and tiaras who were contorted in perfect first arabesques. I would stare at the ballerinas on the wall and convince myself that it was my destiny to be just like them. Every evening after my parents kissed me good night, I would sneak out from under my covers and quietly do a full workout of sit-ups, push-ups and stretches. I would crawl back into bed, sweaty and hopeful that one day it would be me up on that big stage.

None of the signs in my life pointed to a career in entertainment. I have scrawny, long limbs and when my hair is pulled back in a bun, the only thing people notice about me is my 5- inch huge forehead. There is nothing remarkable about my appearance or my talents. I don’t come from a "showbiz" family. My uncle isn’t a producer at some multimillion-dollar motion picture studio, like most kids in Hollywood these days. I have terrible feet by dancer standards, the point being unremarkable at best, and I couldn’t do splits until I was seventeen. But whatever setbacks I encountered, I never gave up.! I loved what I was doing and I loved to perform. I was a great dancer, if you only watched my face, and I had the highest hopes that at some point, my body and technique would catch up. Dancing for me was always the one thing that made me special. When the awkwardness of adolescence caught up with me, I never had to deal with the cruel punishment of the “cool” kids because I was always running away to dance class. When everyone else was going to the movies or hanging out at parties, I was away doing the thing that made me different. Dance was an escape from the real life that I was so terrible at living. I lived in a dream world of glitter and costumes, of props and pride. I felt happiest when I was alone in my room at night, choreographing entire shows that I dreamt of performing for my class.

In my dream world, I was front and center, making everyone who ever doubted me, a believer.

When I arrived in New York City, I was a fresh-faced dancer with nothing to my name except a dance bag full of dreams. I fought my way into the world of entertainment the only way I knew how, kicking and screaming. It came as no surprise that I would throw myself into womanhood and love in the same way—fearlessly, wildly, with all of my heart and almost none of my brain.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

are you blind? can't you see me standing here waiting in line for you?

the greatest thing is knowing all the reasons why.

the worst thing is knowing all the reasons why.

the heartbreaking thing is the fact that there are always reasons why.

reasons why I can't love you.

instead of reasons why I do.