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Dinners and Epiphanies — The Life And Death Of Anthony Bourdain

Robert J. Lewis — Wed, 10 Dec 2025 23:53:46 +0000

I’m not going anywhere. I hope.
It’s been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years.
Things got broken. Things got lost.
But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Anthony Bourdain

The thief compliments the things he steals, if not the owner of them.
But the suicide insults everything on earth by not stealing it.
He defiles every flower by refusing to live for its sake . . .
The man’s crime is different from other crimes – for it makes even crimes impossible.
G. K. Chesterton

In the hours following his very public death by suicide, CNN’s lachrymose anchor, John Berman, said, “Everyone wanted to be Anthony Bourdain.”

My first — admittedly sympathy-challenged — thought was why would we admire, revere, want to emulate someone who ends up hanging himself at the end of a rope? Since Mr. Berman was speaking on behalf of millions of admirers, all of whom, presumptively, would rather be alive than dead, we are forced to conclude that they hadn’t figured out that Tony Bourdain’s life was the beautiful lie that both he and the celebrity makers confectioned out of the disparate elements of his well documented life, a lie that, thanks to a complicit media, continues to thrive in the imagination of his vast society of worshippers and mourners, a lie, that 18 months since his passing, has not been submitted to a post-mortem.

I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised since it is in our DNA that at the behest of our inner groupie we seek out what is exceptional in others as a way of dealing with the banality of our own lives. And whether or not the person is real or a fantasy construed for our distraction and/or entertainment is immaterial. There is an existential void to be filled, and like antibodies on virus alert, our imagination springs into action. What matters is that we come to care about the larger-than-life person as if s/he is someone we know. “Seen from a distance,” writes Albert Camus, “these existences seem to possess a coherence and unity which they cannot have in reality, but which seems evident to the spectator. He sees only the salient points of these lives without taking into account the details of corrosion.”

Tall, ruggedly handsome, unselfconsciously virile, smart and observant, he had it all and we all wanted it. He spoke directly from the heart to the heart of the matter; he was refreshingly unmannered, unedited. He once said “I’m not afraid to look like an idiot.” If, as Arthur Koestler observes in The Act of Creation, “a snob is someone who when reading Dostoyevsky is moved not by what he reads but by himself reading Dostoyevsky,” Bourdain was moved not his confession but by himself confessing while making direct I-contact with the camera.

His considerable appeal combined an unusual admixture of diffidence and nonchalance. He could be simultaneously cool and empathetic. He demonstrated that it was possible to be detached while wearing your heart on your sleeve. He had no qualms entering his misdeeds, regrets and all that is “foul and fair” into the public domain in language that borrowed equally from the X-rated and Barak Obama. As his popularity and ratings soared, Bourdain would have been keenly aware that audiences were hugely attracted to his confessional style, that his charisma was directly related to a willingness to enter his flaws and foibles into the public domain, and that his person — the star he had become — and not the exotic location was the take-away destination in Parts Unknown.

Not unlike hard-living journalist Hunter S. Thompson whom he greatly admired and who, incidentally, died by his own hand, he was trademarked as irreverent, a badge of honour that would over time alienate Bourdain from his essential self as he began to measure himself through the eyes and expectation of his growing fan base. Bourdain’s apparent facility and ease in every conceivable environment — from aristocratic France to the mosquito blighted jungles of Borneo – became the means to the end of swelling the ranks of his followers.

Over time, the attention and adoration became a drug he was unable to refuse, and he quickly learned how to assure his supply by becoming a work junkie. It was at this critical juncture his downward spiral began.

In the ninth or tenth season of Parts Unknown, and not as young as he once was (in his late 50s) Bourdain became obsessed with looking good and fit in front of the camera. To that end he lost weight, and began to work out every day, so that when a scene called for it, he was all too ready to remove his shirt and show us that middle age going on old was no barrier to projecting masculinity. That he was away from his wife and young daughter for 260 days a year was a choice that implicated both the physical and psychological pressures domesticity entails. Was Bourdain infatuated with his day job or running away from the truth of himself (ageing star) that staying at home would have obliged him to confront? Perhaps a huge chunk of both.

As he became a media star, the gap between his image and real self grew to unsustainable proportions. And he would discover the hard way that he couldn’t simultaneously be himself and untrue to himself. Hooked on the high of celebrityhood, he chose the latter and ended up sacrificing his personhood on the altar of audience expectation.

What kind of person, who, when invited over by CNN’s Anderson Cooper for a friendly dinner, sets up a camera in the kitchen? What kind of person provides for a small film crew when, shirtless, he’s at the gym working out with weights? How do we account for the shots he was belting back episode after episode in contrast to his teetotaling existence at home? Are we to believe that at the age of 60 Bourdain decided to have his upper body tattooed for aesthetic reasons — and not to appear cool and hip?

Before Bourdain lost his wife and daughter they lost him who was lost to himself.

No one, and that includes The Picture of Dorian Gray, is immune to the ravages of time. In the final season of Parts Unknown, Bourdain was 61 and clearly lacked the necessities to deal with the hard facts of growing old, of having to live up to the demanding masculine role that was expected of him both on and off camera. When on June 8, 2018 the lie he had been living finally swallowed him up whole and spit him out dead, we shouldn’t have been surprised.

If there was a time when he should have taken his life, it was when he was a “damage done” junkie living from one hit to the next, doing himself and no one around him any good. But alas, there was a significant deficiency in purchase, in public attention his passing would have excited.

It was only when he became a celebrity, only when the camera would provide the appropriate amplification, would suicide become at first a temptation and then an obsession that took over his life. One can only guess how many times Bourdain had imagined his demise and its after-effects before tightening the rope around his neck. Recreating the public mourning, the adulation and eulogies, the obituaries must have worked on him like a powerful drug that he required more of for the same effect — to the final effect that in the end it didn’t matter if he weren’t around to enjoy it.

By the time Bourdain slipped away he had become a star unhinged in the vacuous glitter of fame and celebrity. The only honest moment he showed the world was in the rendering of his final judgment on the phony he had become — by getting rid of it once and for all.

What really happened in that lonely hotel room in Kayserberg, France is that Anthony Bourdain strangled his persona in order to be free.

His suicide is a tragic reminder that when fame and celebrity conspire to estrange someone from his or her essential self, in certain instances nothing less than radical intervention is called for, and whether or not the afflicted one survives the ordeal is almost beside the point.

The critical distinction between psychology and philosophy is that the former encourages you to like yourself as you are, while the latter asks you to make yourself into someone you like. Given the proliferation of psychology and the virtual disappearance of philosophy from daily life during the past century, Bourdain, in a very real sense, didn’t have much of a chance. Everyone around him wanted him to stay ‘as is.’ Surrounded by sycophants and devotees, there was no one to help him address his radical self-estrangement, much less set him on the path to recover his essential self.

What kind of advice could he expect from his colleagues at CNN? Both Anderson Cooper and Don Lemon worshipped him, they wanted to be like him. And like the legions of his admirers, their hands, too, are on the rope that took him away from us. Where there should have been a helping hand (a real friend) there was only the unrelenting din of love and adoration and applause that became deafening.

Since Bourdain’s after life has been as much of a lie as was his actual life, the real person remains an enigma, and what was authentic in the man and his life is still waiting to be exhumed. The blinded-by-the-light media tried to explain away the suicide to a defective sequence of genes, conveniently exculpating itself and the star of the show.

If “the condition of truth is to allow suffering to speak,” (Adorno) maybe one day, on his behalf, the people who knew Tony well will speak the truth to the aura that obscures him, to the worship and veneration that have disfigured him beyond recognition. Then again, if art is said to happen when the image is superior to the thing itself, we should be thankful that Anthony Bourdain sacrificed his personhood, gave his life for his groundbreaking Parts Unknown. We got what we wanted: entertainment and edification. CNN scored big time on the ratings. And Tony got what he wanted: fame, adulation and a robust afterlife.

The only thing we really know about Tony Bourdain is that he was not the television personality we came to know. Which isn’t to say he is not the good friend who is missed who is no longer around.

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Quebec Ice Storm Babies Carry a Unique Epigenetic Profile

Stephanie Barnes — Tue, 02 Dec 2025 01:44:54 +0000

In January of 1998, Canada had what’s considered to be one of our worst natural disasters to date: an ice storm, resulting in over 100 millimetres of freezing rain and ice showering large parts of Quebec, eastern Ontario, and pieces of the Maritimes. In Quebec, it was referred to as the “storm of the century”, and rightfully so. Public Safety Canada’s disaster database says that 35 Canadians died as a result of the storm, and over 1000 were injured.

As layer upon layer of sleet blanketed the province, the weight snapped branches off trees, causing the limbs to come crashing down on powerlines. Hydro Quebec’s towers, previously thought to be indestructible given their ability to withstand up to 45mm of ice accumulation, buckled under the weight.

In Quebec alone, 3.5 million people were without power, and many for several weeks. The projected cost in the aftermath of the storm estimated between one and three billion dollars.

If you grew up in Lower Mainland B.C., like I did, you may never have heard of this ice storm. In fact, if you’ve never spent a winter outside of the Lower Mainland (like I hadn’t, up until this last one), then you also might not even know that rain can freeze. Friends back home, you don’t know the half of it.

There’s something to be said about how places form people – the geography we’re raised in is arguably where we learn to thrive, right?

Which is why I have no problem admitting to you that I had a difficult time becoming accustomed to a Quebec winter (one that I’ve been told by many was really not that bad). But the extent of which we are truly formed by our surroundings, particularly when we’re still in the womb, has been something of great interest to Dr. Suzanne King, a Montreal-based researcher, for decades.

When the ice storms of 1998 took place, Dr. King had already been curious about prenatal maternal stress. After the storms, she turned her curiosity into a study on how that stress impacts a child’s health.

The study, titled (arguably the coolest name ever) Project Ice Storm, was (and is) conducted by scientists from the Douglas Mental Health University Institute and McGill University, and started by addressing the maternal personality factors of 178 women who had been exposed to the storms, who either were pregnant at the time, or became pregnant soon after. Researchers also factored in the amount of days without power each woman went through, post-traumatic stress symptoms, and physiological reactions.

Follow-ups with the children born from these women happened every year or every other year, though it’s clear that the follow-up is ongoing, as the goal of the study as it currently stands is “to understand the long-term effects of the prenatal exposure to stress… by studying developmental trajectories through early adulthood,” according to the Project Ice Storm page on McGill’s website.

Through Project Ice Storm, scientists found that women who were in the first half of their pregnancies during the worst of the storms had babies with lower birth weights; pregnant women who were in their third trimester had babies with lower fine motor skills.

In 2014, researchers for Project Ice Storm made a genuine breakthrough, the results of which were published online by Plos One; DNA within the T cells of 36 of these children showed distinctive patterns – an “epigenetic signature” – in DNA methylation (the process by which methyl groups are added to the DNA molecule, which can modify the function of the gene).

What this meant is that, for the first time ever, researchers were able to conclude that maternal hardship predicted the degree of methylation (modification) of DNA in the T cells, a type of cell found in the immune system, and that the objective stressor (the days each woman went without power) was the long-lasting influencer on these changes, not the degree of emotional stress.

The changes in T cells specifically, or in any genes related to immunity and sugar metabolism, put a person at a greater risk for developing asthma, diabetes, or obesity later in life. In June of 2014, Project Ice Storm had results published in both BioMed Research International and Psychiatry Research highlighting the links between prenatal maternal stress and the development of not only asthma, but autism in the children.

And curiously enough, all of the children participants were found to be more prone for anxiety and depression, starting at an age as young as 4.

Researchers for Project Ice Storm acknowledge that the results need to be replicated, and with a larger testing pool, but this is tricky for a variety of reasons.

Moshe Szyf, a McGill University pharmacology and therapeutics professor, and one of the researchers on the project, told the CBC that, though there was previous evidence found that stressing animals during pregnancy had long-term effects in DNA programming and health, it’s obviously unethical to intentionally stress babies. I’d argue it’s pretty unethical either way, but that’s a story for another day.

The fetus is obviously sensitive to the mother’s environment, but what are we to do with that information? It can be a difficult challenge just to maintain stress levels in everyday life, but you add an unborn baby to the picture (or your womb), with a ticking clock as to when that unborn baby will become a screaming, crying baby (entirely your responsibility in every way), and then someone tells you to relax? Have you met a pregnant person?

But on top of all that, now we learn that it’s the actual hardship the mother goes through that impacts the fetus, not her stress levels.

Pregnant women, have you managed to calm down? Excellent, now go find someplace peaceful, serene, and immune to any kind of natural disaster.

To date, nearly 100 families are still participating in Project Ice Storm while researchers “continue to analyze the rich data collected over the years,” though their page also states there are currently no new assessments planned.

The post Quebec Ice Storm Babies Carry a Unique Epigenetic Profile appeared first on 514Blog.

When do Successful People Wake Up? Tim Cook: 3:45am, Michelle Obama: 4:30am…

Amanda Wang — Sat, 22 Nov 2025 11:22:38 +0000

Michelle Obama wakes up at 4:30am to work out! In an interview with Glamour she said that she “usually get to the gym before [Barack] does. But he is usually there either in the middle of my workout or right at the end,” she says of their side-by-side sweat sessions. “And we’re watching Sports Center and we’re catching up. For me, exercise is a de-stresser, first and foremost,” she explains. “When I travel, I bring a jump rope. I can usually do some jump-roping in the hotel room,” she says.

“If I don’t have a rope or space, I might do a 30-minute routine that includes a minute of jumping jacks, alternating with a minute of pushups and then some sit-ups. You take a 30-second break and do it again.”

Amazon Founder and CEO Jeff Bezos prioritizes 8 hours of sleep and usually gets his day started between 7 and 8am, reading the newspaper while exercising on the

Tim Cook, Apple CEO wakes up at 3:45am every morning. He goes through email, exercise, and grab a coffee before starting his work day.

LinkedIn CEO Jeff Weiner wakes at 5:30am, checks email, reads the news, exercises, meditates, and eats breakfast (all before 9am).

Jack Dorsey, co-founder and CEO of Twitter and Square, wakes at 5am to meditate, exercise, make coffee, and then check in for his work day.

Warren Buffett wakes up at 6:45am and starts his day by reading the newspaper.

Richard Branson, founder of the Virgin Group, which controls more than 400 companies, rises with the sun at 5:45am to exercise and eat an early breakfast before work.

Starbucks Exec Howard Schultz gets up at 4:30am to walk his dogs, exercise, and then he makes coffee to get the day going.

Oprah Winfrey usually wakes up (naturally) between 6:02 and 6:20am and gets her day going by walking the dogs, followed by chai tea or a cappuccino, exercise, meditation, and breakfast.

Gary Vaynerchuk, co-founder and CEO of VaynerMedia, wakes up at 6am every single day and gets his day started by checking his phone, catching up on the news, and then exercising.

Elon Musk rises at 7am and begins his day by tackling critical emails, and then gets his kids off to school, showers, and heads to the office.

The post When do Successful People Wake Up? Tim Cook: 3:45am, Michelle Obama: 4:30am… appeared first on 514Blog.

How to Use the Eisenhower Matrix as a Prioritization and a Time Management Framework

Dina Osman — Sat, 22 Nov 2025 00:03:06 +0000

Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.

– Abraham Lincoln

It may seem counter-intuitive to dedicate time to learning about time management but the benefits are enormous. In a world of unlimited information, prioritisation became one of the most popular topics on business blogs and one of the most popular job interview questions. The reason is not all tasks are created equal. We all constantly create to-do lists, and then work on them in an indiscriminate order. As a result, we stay busy all day long but without achieving meaningful results.

Dwight D. Eisenhower was a productive guy. As Commander of the Allied Force in Europe during World War II he planned and supervised the successful invasion of Normandy. As the 34th president of the United States he launched DARPA and NASA. He was also the president of Columbia University and the first Supreme Commander of NATO. In a 1954 speech he said: “I have two kinds of problems: the urgent and the important. The urgent are not important, and the important are never urgent.”

The priority quadrant or the Eisenhower Matrix is based on the urgent/important ratio and is one of the most popular time management frameworks in the world. It categorises tasks into 2 basic dimensions: time and priority.

Eisenhower quadrant categorizes tasks into one of four categories: do immediately, plan for later, delegate to someone else, and stop doing.

Using it is pretty simple: Pick an item from the to do list and classify it as urgent and important. Then place it in the correct quadrant.

Quadrant 1: Do first

The first quadrant is the “important and urgent”. These tasks both have high importance and urgency.

Focus on accomplishing these tasks first.

Examples: deadlines, crises and problems

Quadrant 2: Schedule

The second quadrant covers tasks that are important but not urgent. To avoid procrastination, decide when you will work on each task.

Set clear deadlines.

Examples: long-term planning, maintenance, education.

Quadrant 3: Delegate (Automate)

Typically, these are tasks which are unimportant but which do need to be done immediately.

Ask yourself the question if the task can only be carried out by you personally. If yes then it’s no different from quadrant 1. But if you can delegate or automate do so.

Examples: booking flights and hotels, tax returns, paying invoices, phone calls, text messages.

Quadrant 4: Do it later or eliminate

This Quadrant covers the lowest priority items.

These are the “not important and not urgent” tasks.

Examples: social media, playing video games, watching Netflix.

Best practices:

1. Use the magic of “NO”
Rejection is a big part of the filtering process. You will have to work on your rejection skills. Learn how to craft a polite emails letting people know that for now, you’re unable to help as you have far too many things on your plate.

2. Color code the matrix
Color coding each quadrant by priority level can help you quickly estimate what’s next on your list at a glance.

3. Limit each quadrant to 10 items max
A good rule of thumb is to focus on just 5 to 7 tasks in each category.
Too many items on your list can make it difficult to finish work on time and can cause task paralysis.

4. Separate personal and professional tasks
Consider separating your personal and work to-do lists.

The post How to Use the Eisenhower Matrix as a Prioritization and a Time Management Framework appeared first on 514Blog.

Sound as Sleep Therapy: The Forgotten Art of Acoustic Healing

Amanda Wang — Sun, 12 Oct 2025 05:55:55 +0000

Author’s Note: While the characters and their love story are fictional, this story was inspired by the real events that happened to me on Plateau Mont Royal in 2025. The healing power of sound therapy and the innovative work being done by apps like BetterSleep to make ancient wellness practices accessible to modern lives is very real. Sometimes the most profound healing happens not in dramatic moments, but in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, in the gentle frequencies that remind us we are not alone. Enjoy the story.

I’m lying here at 2:47 AM, staring at the water stain on my ceiling that looks like a broken heart, and I can’t help but think that’s exactly what I am right now. Broken. The crooked floors of my Plateau-Mont-Royal apartement creak every time I shift in bed, like they’re judging me for being awake again.

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since Marcus walked out of this apartment, out of my life, taking his stupid expensive coffee maker and leaving behind nothing but sleepless nights and the lingering scent of Portuguese chicken from the restaurant downstairs that now makes me nauseous instead of hungry.

The wrought-iron balconies outside my window cast shadows that dance across the colorful facades of Rue Saint-Laurent, and I wonder if other people in this neighborhood lie awake wondering where their lives went wrong. The distant hum of the restaurant mingles with the sound of raccoons conducting their nightly raid on the recycling bins, and honestly? I relate to those raccoons. We’re all just trying to find something useful in the garbage of our lives.

I pull my grandmother’s Hudson’s Bay Point Blanket closer around my shoulders—the only thing of value I inherited when Grand-mère passed last year, besides her Westmount apartment that I had to sell to pay for this bohemian corner of Montreal where I pretend to be a successful freelance journalist.

The 55 bus rumbles past, carrying people who probably have their shit together, unlike me. I grab my phone from the nightstand, squinting at the blue light that’s probably making my insomnia worse, but I don’t care anymore. I’ve tried everything: meditation apps, sleeping pills that leave me groggy, even counting sheep in both French and English because this is Montreal and I’m bilingual in my insomnia.

That’s when I hear it.

A sound so beautiful it makes my chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with heartbreak and everything to do with something I can’t name. It’s coming from the triplex next door, floating through the thin walls that separate my mess of a life from whatever magic is happening over there.

I press my ear against the wall like some creepy neighbor, but I don’t care. The sound is low and resonant, like someone humming but deeper, more intentional. It wraps around me like the warmest hug I’ve had in months, and for the first time since Marcus left, I feel my shoulders relax.

Without thinking, I get up and move to my window. Through the gap between our buildings, I can see into the apartment next door. There’s a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by what looks like an orchestra of bowls, each one singing at a different frequency as she moves a wooden mallet around their rims.

She’s beautiful in that effortless Montreal way—dark hair falling in waves around her face, wearing an oversized sweater that probably costs more than my rent, but somehow she makes it look like she just threw it on. There’s something about the way she moves, so deliberate and peaceful, that makes me want to cry.

The sound continues, and I find myself breathing deeper for the first time in months. The anxious chatter in my mind—the endless loop of “why wasn’t I enough for Marcus” and “how am I going to pay rent next month” and “what the hell am I doing with my life”—begins to quiet.

I watch this mystery woman work with her singing bowls, and something stirs in my memory. Grand-mère used to hum while she cooked, not popular songs but something older, something that seemed to come from deep in her chest and resonate through her tiny Westmount kitchen. “C’est la sonothérapie,” she would say when I asked about it. Sound medicine.

As the bowls continue their ethereal conversation, I find myself drifting toward sleep for the first time in weeks. The last thing I remember is thinking that maybe, just maybe, there’s still magic in this world. Even for broken-hearted insomniacs living in crooked-floored apartments.

The Woman with the Singing Bowls

I wake to the scent of fresh bagels from drifting through my window, and for a moment, I forget that my life is a disaster. The sun is streaming through my windows, and I’ve actually slept through the night. No 3 AM panic attacks about my dwindling bank account, no tossing and turning while replaying every fight Marcus and I ever had.

The sound of the singing bowls has been replaced by the familiar morning symphony of the Plateau: the espresso machine at the café downstairs, delivery trucks navigating narrow streets, the gentle chaos of a neighborhood waking up. But something has shifted. The sounds that usually make me want to crawl back under my covers—the construction noise from another heritage building being converted into luxury condos that I’ll never be able to afford—seem somehow more manageable today.

I’m making coffee in my tiny kitchen when there’s a knock at my door. My heart does this stupid flutter thing because for a split second I think it might be Marcus, coming back to tell me he made a mistake. But when I open the door, it’s her. The woman with the singing bowls.

She’s even more beautiful up close, with these warm brown eyes that seem to see right through all my carefully constructed walls. She’s holding a small ceramic bowl and wearing the kind of easy smile that suggests she’s used to having conversations that most people would find weird.

“Bonjour,” she says, switching between French and English in that distinctly Montreal way that always makes me feel like I belong somewhere. “I hope I didn’t disturb you last night. I saw your light on and thought… well, I thought you might be having trouble sleeping.”

I want to lie, to pretend I have my life together, but there’s something about her that makes honesty feel safe. “Actually, it was the opposite. I slept better than I have in months. What were those sounds?”

She smiles, and it’s like sunshine breaking through clouds. “I’m Margot. And those were Tibetan singing bowls. I’m a sound therapist—I work with people who have sleep disorders, anxiety, chronic pain.”

I invite her in, suddenly self-conscious about my messy apartment, the stack of unpaid bills on my counter, the empty wine bottles I haven’t bothered to recycle. But Margot settles onto my couch like she belongs here, cradling that bowl in her hands like it’s precious.

“I moved here three years ago from Quebec City,” she tells me. “I was going through my own dark period—divorce, career change, the whole quarter-life crisis package. The Plateau saved me, honestly. There’s something about this neighborhood that accepts broken people and helps them heal.”

The way she says “broken people” makes my chest tight, because that’s exactly what I am. Broken. But when she says it, it doesn’t sound like a death sentence. It sounds like a starting point.

“My grand-mère used to sing,” I tell her, surprising myself with the admission. “She said it was sound medicine.”

Margot’s eyes light up like I’ve just revealed the secret to the universe. “Your grandmother understood something we’ve forgotten. Sound is our oldest medicine. Before pharmaceuticals, before therapy, before everything else, humans used sound to heal.”

She explains her work, how she combines ancient practices with modern understanding of neuroscience. “The brain responds to specific frequencies. Certain sounds can trigger the release of melatonin, reduce cortisol levels, help synchronize brainwaves. It’s not magic—it’s science.”

I think about my months of insomnia, the sleeping pills that made me feel like a zombie, dating apps that somehow made me more anxious. “Why don’t more people know about this?”

Margot’s expression grows sad, and I want to reach out and smooth the worry lines from her forehead. “We live in a culture that’s forgotten how to listen. We’ve created cities full of noise pollution, we’ve medicalized everything without addressing root causes, and we’ve lost touch with the healing power of natural sound.”

She gestures toward my window, where the sounds of the Plateau continue their morning dance. “Even here, in this beautiful neighborhood, we’re surrounded by acoustic chaos. Our nervous systems are in constant fight-or-flight mode.”

“But last night,” I say, “your bowls somehow cut through all that.”

“Sound can retrain the nervous system,” she explains, and the way she talks about it, with such passion and knowledge, makes me want to learn everything she knows. “The frequencies I was working with are specifically chosen to promote deep sleep and nervous system regulation.”

As we talk, I realize I’m experiencing something I haven’t felt since before Marcus left: genuine curiosity instead of anxiety. The journalist in me is waking up, but it’s more than that. It’s like Margot is showing me a door I didn’t know existed.

“Would you…” I start, then stop, suddenly nervous. “Would you be willing to teach me? About sound therapy?”

Margot studies my face for a long moment, and I feel like she’s seeing all my broken pieces and somehow finding them beautiful. “There’s something I want to show you first,” she says, pulling out her phone. “Have you ever heard of sleep apps?”

I shake my head, and she opens an app that looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The interface is elegant, calming, with soft colors that don’t assault your eyes like most apps do.

“It’s a sleep app, but not like the others,” she explains, her fingers moving across the screen with practiced ease. “It has this incredible sound mixer feature. You can blend different frequencies, nature sounds, even singing bowls like the ones I use.”

She shows me how it works, and I’m mesmerized. There are hundreds of sounds—rain on leaves, ocean waves, Tibetan bowls, crystal chimes, even something called “brown noise” that sounds like the most comforting hug in audio form.

“The beautiful thing about this app,” Margot continues, “is that it democratizes sound healing. Not everyone can afford private sessions or expensive equipment, but anyone with a phone can access these healing frequencies.”

She creates a custom mix for me right there on my couch, blending gentle rain sounds with soft singing bowls and something called “delta waves” that she says will help promote deep sleep. As the sounds fill my small apartment, I feel that same sense of peace I experienced last night.

“Try this tonight,” she says, handing me her phone so I can download the app. “But more than that, start paying attention to how different sounds affect you. Notice what makes you feel calm, what makes you anxious. Become curious about your own acoustic needs.”

After she leaves, I sit on my couch with the app open, exploring all the different sound combinations. For the first time in months, I’m excited about bedtime. Not because I’m exhausted, but because I have something to look forward to.

That night, I created my own mix using BetterSleep’s sound mixer—a blend of ocean waves, singing bowls, and something called “pink noise” that Margot recommended. As I settle into bed with my grandmother’s blanket, I put on my headphones and let the sounds wash over me.

The effect is immediate. My racing thoughts slow down, my breathing deepens, and for the first time since Marcus left, I don’t feel alone. The sounds create a cocoon of safety around me, and I drift off to sleep thinking that maybe healing isn’t about fixing what’s broken. Maybe it’s about learning to find peace within the chaos.

The Sound of Healing
Two weeks later, I’m a different person. Not completely healed—I’m not naive enough to think an app can fix a broken heart—but different. Stronger, maybe. Or at least better rested.

The sleep app has become my nightly ritual. I’ve experimented with different combinations, learning that I respond best to a mix of rain sounds and singing bowls with just a touch of brown noise underneath. The app tracks my sleep patterns, and I can see the improvement in black and white: longer deep sleep phases, fewer nighttime awakenings, better overall sleep quality.

But it’s more than just the data. It’s the way I feel when I wake up—like I can handle whatever the day throws at me. It’s the way my anxiety has softened around the edges, how I no longer spiral into panic when I think about my uncertain future.

I’m at Marché Jean-Talon, picking up herbs for evening tea—another new ritual I’ve adopted—when I see him. Marcus. He’s with her, the woman he left me for, and they’re laughing at something on his phone. She’s everything I’m not: tall, blonde, probably has a trust fund and a stable career.

Six weeks ago, seeing them together would have sent me into a tailspin. I would have hidden behind the herb stand, gone home, and cried into a bottle of wine while listening to sad songs and wondering what was wrong with me.

But today, something different happens. I feel the familiar pang of hurt, but underneath it is something new: a sense of my own worth that has nothing to do with whether Marcus chose me or not.

I walk right past them, my head held high, and I swear I see surprise flicker across Marcus’s face. Good. Let him wonder what changed.

That evening, I’m settling into my nightly routine with when my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.

“Hi, it’s Margot. I hope you don’t mind—I got your number from the building directory. I wanted to check how you’re doing with the sound therapy.”

My heart does that flutter thing again, but this time it’s not about Marcus. It’s about the woman who introduced me to the healing power of sound, who showed me that broken doesn’t mean worthless.

“It’s been life-changing,” I text back. “I’m sleeping better than I have in years. Thank you.”

Her response comes quickly: “I’m so glad. Would you like to grab coffee tomorrow? I have something I want to discuss with you.”

I stare at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. There’s something about the way she phrases it that makes my stomach flutter with nervous excitement.

“I’d love to,” I reply.

The next morning, I meet Margot at Café Olimpico, a tiny café tucked away on a side street in Mile End. She’s already there when I arrive, sitting at a corner table with two steaming cups and that same warm smile that makes me feel like everything might actually be okay.

“You look different,” she says as I sit down. “Rested.”

“I feel different,” I admit. “The app has been incredible. I had no idea how much my sleep was affecting everything else in my life.”

Margot nods, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. “Sleep is the foundation of everything—emotional regulation, cognitive function, physical health. When we’re sleep-deprived, we’re operating from a place of survival rather than thriving.”

She pauses, studying my face with those warm brown eyes. “I have a proposition for you. I’ve been thinking about writing a book about sound therapy, about how ancient healing practices can be integrated with modern technology. But I’m a therapist, not a writer. You’re a journalist. What if we collaborated?”

My heart stops. Actually stops. “You want to write a book with me?”

“I want to write a book with you,” she confirms, and the way she says it makes me think she might mean more than just professional collaboration. “Your story—how you discovered sound healing, changed your relationship with sleep—it could help so many people.”

I think about all the sleepless nights, all the anxiety and heartbreak and feeling like I was drowning in my own life. And then I think about how I feel now: grounded, hopeful, like I’m finally becoming the person I was meant to be.

“Yes,” I say, and the word comes out stronger than I expected. “Yes, I want to do this with you.”

Margot’s smile could power the entire Plateau. “There’s something else,” she says, reaching across the table to touch my hand. The contact sends electricity up my arm. “I know you’re still healing from your breakup, and I don’t want to complicate things, but I need you to know that this isn’t just about the book for me.”

My breath catches. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that watching you discover your own strength these past few weeks has been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed. I mean that I think about you every night when I’m practicing with my singing bowls. I mean that I’m falling for you, and I hope that’s okay.”

The café around us fades away. The sounds of the Plateau—the traffic, the conversations in rapid-fire French, the espresso machine—all become background music to this moment.

“It’s more than okay,” I whisper, and when she leans to kiss me, it tastes like coffee and possibility and the kind of healing I never knew was possible.

Chapter Four: The Sound of Love
Six months later, I’m lying in Margot’s bed in her sound-filled apartment, listening to her practice with her singing bowls in the next room. The sounds drift through the walls like a lullaby, and I think about how much my life has changed since that first sleepless night when I heard her music.

Our book proposal was sent to a major publisher. “Sound Sleep: Ancient Wisdom for Modern Rest”, combining my storytelling with Margot’s expertise and featuring a whole chapter on how apps are making sound therapy accessible to everyone.

But more than that, I’ve found something I didn’t even know I was looking for: a love that heals instead of hurts, a partnership that makes me stronger instead of smaller, a future that feels bright instead of uncertain.

My phone buzzes with a notification —my sleep score from last night was 94%, the highest it’s ever been. I smile, remembering how desperate I was just months ago, how broken I felt, how impossible healing seemed.

Margot appears in the doorway, backlit by the soft light from her practice room, and my heart still does that flutter thing when I see her. I don’t think it will ever stop.

“How did you sleep?” she asks, settling beside me on the bed.

“Like a baby,” I say, showing her my sleep score. “I think I’m officially a sound therapy success story.”

She laughs, that beautiful sound that’s become my favorite frequency. “You were always a success story. You just needed the right tools to remember it.”

I think about Marcus sometimes, wonder if he’s happy with his blonde girlfriend, if he ever thinks about what we had. But mostly, I’m grateful. Grateful that he left, grateful that I was broken enough to be open to healing, grateful that sometimes the worst thing that happens to you leads to the best thing.

“I love you,” I tell Margot, words that come easier now, words that don’t feel scary anymore.

“I love you too,” she says, and then she’s kissing me, and the singing bowls in the next room seem to hum in harmony with my heartbeat.

Later, as we’re getting ready for the day, Margot shows me a message from a reader who found our blog about sound therapy.

“I’ve been struggling with insomnia for years,” the message reads. “After reading your story and downloading the app, I’ve had the best sleep of my life. Thank you for showing me that healing is possible.”

I feel tears prick my eyes, the good kind this time. “We’re actually helping people.”

“We’re helping people help themselves,” Margot corrects. “That’s the most beautiful kind of healing.”

As we walk through the Plateau together, past the colorful facades and ornate balconies, past the Portuguese chicken restaurant and the 24-hour dépanneur, I think about how this neighborhood has become the soundtrack to my healing. The sounds that once kept me awake—the traffic, the construction, the general chaos of urban life—have become part of my story, part of the symphony that led me to Margot and to myself.

My phone buzzes with another BetterSleep notification, reminding me to set my sleep intention for tonight. I smile, thinking about how I’ll create a new sound mix, maybe something with ocean waves and crystal bowls, something that will carry me into dreams filled with possibility.

Because that’s what I’ve learned: healing isn’t about silence. It’s about finding the right sounds, the ones that resonate with your soul and remind you that you’re not broken—you’re just learning to sing in a different key.

And sometimes, if you’re really lucky, you find someone who wants to make music with you for the rest of your life.

Epilogue: One Year Later
I’m standing on the terrasse of our new apartment—yes, our apartment, because Margot and I decided to find a place together, one with better heating and floors that don’t creak quite so much—watching the sunset over Mount Royal. The sounds of the city drift up to us: children playing in the park below, the distant hum of traffic, the evening chorus of birds settling in for the night.

Our book comes out next month, and we’ve already been invited to speak at conferences about the intersection of ancient healing practices and modern technology.

But tonight, none of that matters. Tonight, it’s just us and the sounds of Montreal and the quiet miracle of two people who found each other in the darkness and chose to create light together.

Margot comes up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, and I lean back into her warmth.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

“Just… all of it. How different everything is now.”

“Better different?”

“The best different,” I say, turning in her arms to face her. “I never thought I’d be grateful for insomnia, but if it hadn’t kept me awake that night, I never would have heard your singing bowls. I never would have found you.”

She smiles, that same warm smile that made me feel safe from the very beginning. “Maybe the universe knew we needed each other.”

“Maybe it did.”

As the sun sets over Montreal, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, I think about all the people out there who are lying awake right now, struggling with their own darkness, their own broken hearts, their own sleepless nights. I think about how sound can heal, how technology can connect us to ancient wisdom, how sometimes the thing that saves you comes in the form of an app on your phone and a woman with singing bowls who teaches you that broken doesn’t mean worthless.

My phone buzzes with my nightly sleep reminder, and I smile. Tonight, I’ll create a new mix—maybe something with rain and singing bowls and the sound of Margot’s breathing beside me. Because that’s what healing sounds like: not silence, but harmony. Not the absence of noise, but the presence of the right kind of music.

And as we head inside to begin our evening ritual, I know that whatever dreams come tonight, they’ll be filled with the sound of love, the frequency of hope, and the gentle rhythm of a life finally in tune with itself.

The End

The post Sound as Sleep Therapy: The Forgotten Art of Acoustic Healing appeared first on 514Blog.

Best 14 Coffee Shops In Montreal To Study Or Work

Amanda Wang — Fri, 03 Oct 2025 21:48:57 +0000

Montreal is a haven for coffee lovers. Whether you’re looking for a place to study or work, there’s bound to be a coffee shop that fits your needs. Here are 14 of the best coffee shops in Montreal for getting work done. From cozy nooks to bustling cafes, there’s something for everyone. So grab your laptop and head to one of these spots to get productive!

Pigeon Café | Monkland Village

Individuals who need to get some work done while unwinding with a nice book or working on their laptop here in a tranquil setting will find this charming modest coffee shop ideal. The Pigeon Café is well-known for high-quality coffee, both of which have the potential to put you in a more laid-back frame of mind. From a delicious breakfast of Smoked Salmon Avo toast to Celia Lager, they have everything for you. Their Espresso Martini is enough to charge you so you can study or work more productively.

Address: 5625 Monkland Ave, Montreal, Quebec H4A 1E2, Canada

Instagram Page: @pigeon.cafe

Opening Hours: Monday – Friday: 7am–11pm

Saturday – Sunday: 8am – 11pm

Le Darling | Plateau

Le Darling is an outstanding option for those in the greater Montreal area looking for a high-quality coffee shop to work or study. The neighborhood of Plateau is home to Le Darling, which is well-known for having a comforting and cozy atmosphere and delicious food items like Huître à l’unité, Biscuit au Chocolat and cheesecake. The environment and delicious snacks make it an excellent location for conducting business or getting some work done. Both the customer service, which is consistently friendly and pleasant, and the quality of the coffee are of the highest possible standard. In addition, there is free Wi-Fi access, which enables you to keep working without losing your connection to the outside world.

Address: 4328 St Laurent Blvd, Montreal, Quebec H2W 1Z3, Canada

Instagram Page: @bar.darling

Opening Hours: Monday – Thursday: 4pm – 1am

Friday: 11am – 3am

Saturday: 10am – 3am

Sunday: 10am – 1am

Café OUI MAIS NON⁠

Want high-quality coffee and a productive atmosphere? Café OUI MAIS NON is the perfect spot for you. Although the coffee is subpar, you need never worry about becoming hungry because you can place an order anytime. Good coffee, hearty home-cooked comfort food, and microbrews that aren’t watered down are all available in this welcoming environment. They’re in a good-karma attitude toward Earth, and they give you a hand in making environmentally responsible decisions. It’s so easy to focus on the upbeat that you might not even notice. Café OUI MAIS NON is an excellent choice for either academic or professional interests that you may have. It also has a wonderful atmosphere and perfect lighting. In addition, there is a sizable selection of both food and beverages accessible, enabling you to maintain your current energy levels during the day.

Address: 72 Rue Jarry E, Montréal, QC H2P 1T1, Canada

Instagram Page: @cafeouimaisnon

Opening Hours: Monday – Sunday: 7am – 11pm

Tommy’s – Old Montreal

There’s something about Tommy’s that makes it the perfect place to get work done. It could be the exposed brick walls or the ample natural light streaming in from the large windows. Whatever it is, we can all agree that Tommy’s is one of the best places to study or work in Montreal. The coffee is great, and there’s a good selection of food if you need something more substantial than a pastry to power through your work session. The staff is always friendly and happy to chat, creating a relaxed atmosphere. And if you need a break from working, there’s plenty of people-watching to be done on Old Montreal’s busy streets.

Address: 151 Saint-Paul St W, Montreal, Quebec H2Y 1Z5, Canada

Instagram Page: @tommy.cafe

Opening Hours: Monday – Thursday: 8am – 4pm

Friday – Sunday: 8am – 6pm

Café Orr

Café Orr is more than just a meeting place; it’s an immersive visual experience where ideas can flourish through spontaneous conversation. Private nooks and communal tables allow optimal concentration, collaboration, and relaxation. Free movie showings are held every day at 2 pm and 8 pm in a cinema room on the mezzanine. The Café Orr is a fantastic option for those looking for a place to study or get some work done in Montreal. There is an abundant supply of baked goods and sandwiches to choose from. If you are searching for a place where people are kind to one another and try to keep their etiquette in check, Café Orr is the place to go.

Address: 5368 Av. Papineau, Montréal, QC H2H 1W2, Canada

Instagram Page: @cafeorr

Opening Hours: Monday – Sunday: 7am – 11pm

Café Santropol

The Café Santropol stands out as one of the numerous important buildings in Montreal. This coffee shop in Plateau has been a hangout for young people of all different backgrounds, including high school and college students, for many years now. The structure presently homes to Cafe Santropol was being slated for demolition in 1976, so Café Santropol was established. Due to the extensive menu of plant-based cuisine offered at Cafe Santropol, vegetarians and vegans will find it an excellent alternative dining option. Everyone you know who follows a plant-based diet, including your family, friends, and coworkers, should pay this establishment a visit.

Address: 3990 Rue Saint-Urbain, Montréal, QC H2W 1T7, Canada

Instagram Page: @cafesantropol

Opening Hours: Wednesday – Thursday: 12 – 7pm

Friday – Sunday: 11:30am – 9pm

Crew Collective Café | Old Montréal

With it’s 50ft-high vaulted ceilings, grand chandeliers, a massive entrance hall, big bright windows and marble floors, Crew is spectacular and definatly one of our favorite coffee shops in Montreal. Housed in the main hall of the old Royal Bank Tower, this cafe is perfect for studying; there’s plenty of natural light, the coffee is delicious, and the staff is very helpful with tips on where best to sit or work in order to get your work done efficiently.

Address: 360 Rue Saint-Jacques, Montréal, QC H2Y 1P5, Canada

Instagram Page: @crewcollectivecafe

Opening Hours: Monday – Friday: 8am–4pm

Saturday – Sunday: 10am–5pm

Cafe Aunja | Downtown

In Montreal since 2013, Aunja (which means “there” in Persian) is an Iranian café and tea house with a warm and exotic environment. Herbal teas, tisanes, cold beverages, and pastries are the café’s bread and butter. Custom tea blends can be created from the many options available in the store’s tea department. Ginger Tea and Persian Fog are two of our most sought-after blends. As well as the usual fare, they provide breakfast, sandwiches, and salads. People from all over Montreal flock to Cafe Aunja to catch up with friends and family while indulging in a mouthwatering dinner. The baristas and waitstaff are kind and eager to assist. In addition to offering a varied selection of food and beverages, Cafe Aunja provides customers with an abundance of power outlets, allowing them to charge electronic devices such as computers and mobile phones as they enjoy a cup of coffee. Convenient, right?

Address: 1448 Sherbrooke St W, Montreal, Quebec H3G 1K4, Canada

Instagram Page: @cafeaunja

Opening Hours: Tuesday – Friday: 9am – 5pm

Saturday – Sunday: 10:30am – 6:30pm

Lili and Oli – Verdun/Griffintown

At Lili and Oli, you will find a wonderful atmosphere for getting some work done or studying in the city of Montreal. The atmosphere in the coffee shop is relaxed and welcoming, and the staff is more than willing to assist customers with any questions or needs. You will find an abundance of outlets, which will enable you to keep your electronic gadgets charged, and the provision of free Wi-Fi will make it simple to keep your connection with the outside world. Because it is of such high quality, the coffee served will allow you to keep your energy levels consistent while you are working. Moreover, their Salade de Betteraves, Salade de Quinoa and Bol Granola will help you stay healthy!

Address: 4554 Wellington St, Verdun, Quebec H4G 1W7, Canada

Instagram Page: @liliandoli

Opening Hours: Monday – Friday: 7am – 7pm

Saturday – Sunday: 8am – 7pm

Café Parvis – Downtown

If you enjoy coffee and are looking for a quiet place to read, write, or work in the middle of the city, Café Parvis is a fantastic option for you to consider. Even if you are craving something nice, you can order Tataki de boeuf or satisfy your cravings with Chaudrée de palourdes. Moreover, the availability of free Wi-Fi makes it simple to maintain contact with the outside world. The peace and quiet of the setting and the relaxation it affords make it easier to concentrate on the matter at hand. It has everything that you need to study or conduct a meeting!

Address: 433 Mayor St, Montreal, Quebec H3A 1N9, Canada

Instagram Page: @cafe_parvis

Opening Hours: Tuesday – Friday: 11am – 11pm

Saturday: 10am – 11pm

Sunday: 10am – 3pm

Café OSMO

Café OSMO is a warm and inviting coffee establishment that can be found in the heart of the Plateau area in Montreal. The coffee shop has a homey and welcoming ambiance, and its spacious windows let in plenty of natural light. Additionally, the seating is very comfortable, making it an ideal environment for studying or getting work done. The recently renovated Café Osmo is significantly different from its former self. An enthusiastic group banded together to breathe new life into the area, which is instantly recognizable due to its brutalist design. In the daytime, Case Osmo transforms into a specialty café serving Ebi curry and Japanese sandwiches, two of Japan’s most popular dishes, along with other simple yet delicious dishes. Wonderful baked goods are also available.

Address: 51 Sherbrooke St W, Montreal, Quebec H2X 1X2, Canada

Instagram Page: @osmo_x_marusan

Opening Hours: Monday- Friday: 8am – 6pm

Saturday – Sunday: 10am – 6pm

Dispatch Café – Plateau

Dispatch Café is the place to go if you find yourself in Plateau and seeking a place to quench your demand for caffeine. If you find yourself in Plateau, head there. Because of the unhurried nature of the setting, this cozy coffee shop is an excellent choice for those who need to concentrate on their schoolwork or get some work done on their laptop. They are experts in the coffee industry and understand that coffee can be enhanced in many ways beyond just the cup. They have always been unhappy with the way things are and have worked tirelessly to make a positive impact in this field. Their goal is to improve every aspect of our distribution network, from the field to your mug to the service you receive.

Address: 4021 St Laurent Blvd, Montreal, Quebec H2W 1Y4, Canada

Website: locations

Opening Hours: Monday – Friday: 7:30am – 6pm

Saturday – Sunday: 8am – 6pm

Butterblume

There is a nice small coffee shop named Butterblume in the Plateau that is excellent for working or studying. The neighborhood is called Plateau. The coffee is of the highest quality, and the atmosphere throughout the entire establishment is one of calm and quiet relaxation. There are sufficient seats accessible both inside and outside the restaurant, so you won’t have trouble finding somewhere to sit if you go there. It serves as a central gathering place for the city’s various neighborhoods to have luncheon, an appetizer, or dinner. Whether on the spot or to take it away, you may also browse their grocery store. On your walk back to your house, pick up some freshly baked bread, soup, salad, light dinner and alcoholic beverages!

Address: 5836 St Laurent Blvd, Montreal, Quebec H2T 1T3, Canada

Instagram Page: @lebutterblume_mtl

Opening Hours: Tuesday – Wednesday: 11am – 3pm

Thursday – Friday: 11am – 10pm

Saturday: 5:30pm – 10:30pm

Oh My Deer Café – Plateau

Oh M Deer Café is an ideal location if you are a vegan and want ice cream. They have recently introduced 22 new flavors and guess what? Out of them, NINE are for vegas. Isn’t it great? The restaurant’s café can be found nestled away in a quiet nook of the establishment. This cozy coffee shop is popular with students for various reasons, including the high quality of its beverages and convenient location. This is due to the fact that the shop is located in a convenient and highly visible part of town. Your trip would have been a complete and utter bust if you had skipped out on the opportunity to sample one of their world-famous cinnamon buns before you left.

Address: 24 Ave des Pins, Montreal, Quebec H2W 1N3, Canada

Instagram Page: @ohmydeer.cafe

Opening Hours: Monday: 9am – 5pm

Tuesday – Friday: 9am – 8pm

Saturday – Sunday: 9:30am – 8pm

Conclusion

There you have it, the top 14 coffee shops in Montreal to study or work. These cafes offer great atmospheres for getting things done, and they all have unique qualities that make them stand out. So whether you’re looking for a quiet spot to hunker down and get some serious work done or you need a place to meet up with clients or colleagues, there’s sure to be a cafe on this list that’s perfect for you.

The post Best 14 Coffee Shops In Montreal To Study Or Work appeared first on 514Blog.

The Life and Work of Haris Nukem

Alexandra Daigle — Wed, 01 Oct 2025 23:57:46 +0000

Part fashion designer, part comic book aficionado, Haris Nukem is one of the most imaginative and evocative photographers to emerge in recent years. Influenced by the renaissance artist Caravaggio, his work is said to be a passionate study of the human spirit in the 21st century. He loves fairy tales, mythology, rebels, freckles, tattoos, body hair and granular textures. He was born in 1989 in Bosnia, which was then still part of Yugoslavia and left as a political refugee to United Kingdom which granted him asylum. He said in a an interview that Croatia is still his favorite place on earth, and that the cobbled medieval art district of Rovinj, is his favorite art center: “I love to see people making what they can with what they have. That spirit of creation runs through everyone.”

Growing up, he used to watch Jay-Z, Gary Vee, Tony Robbins and Nipsey Hussle’s interviews. They gave him the push to dedicate himself to visual art.

Early in his carrer Nukem worked as a photographer for record labels and artists such as Defected Records, IAMDDB, Dennis Sulta, Badass B, and Jordan Stephens.

He said that David Fincher shaped his outlook on color and image and that he wanted to create that same level of communication: “but just concentrating on performance, depth and color. Some things require lots of pre-production but most of my work happens quite naturally.”

Fine Art and Dark Beauty Portrait Photography (2018)

“Fine Art and Dark Beauty Portrait Photography” (2018) turned Nukem into a household name. Inspired by the book “Tribe” by Sebastian Junger, he incorporated tribal energy and with piercings, tattoos, highlighting their beauty and diminishing the stigma.

Faith (2019)

Touching upon hedonism, online trolls, social media, fame, and the fragility of public services, “Faith”(2019) propelled Nukem towards a global audience. Exhibited in London’s Soho, it explores the concept of moral and spiritual conviction and what the meaning of ‘faith’ signifies in the interconnected world we live in. Though spiritual iconography and mythic narratives Nukem’s photography juxtaposed romantic and classical imagery with a socially conscious, urban aesthetic. He said: “In our increasingly secular world, “faith” is an exploration of the pockets in which to place our beliefs.” His models are often portrayed as heroes and gods, biblical and mythological icons inside of contemporary settings.

The price of the exhibition was to “pay what you can afford”, where all the proceeds went towards the charity “Help Refugees”. Nukem’s two main art dealers are Maddox Gallery and Woodbury House and his unique pieces can be found and sold on Artnet.

Nukem said in a Lodown Magazine interview that the most important thing for him is to make sure a photograph has a strong intention and connects with the audience. His work happens quite naturally, without much need for a high level of pre-production. However he spends most of his time building relationships with his models to get to know them better. For example, one of his models named “Kikz” was born in Nigeria and escaped a life of child slavery by emigrating to the United Kingdom. She has started a new life by becoming a dancer. In one of her photographs, she is dressed in her native Nigerian finery worn by West African Queens, while raising a teacup demonstrating her new British life. The compelling contrast between these two cultures can be seen below to the right.

“The Pursuit” , by Haris Nukem.

Nukem has also recently published his first hard-copy book “Ten Days at the Mandrake” (2020), where his photographic work is listed as a time capsule. The book is accompanied with poetry written by Charlotte Rose. The book includes 36 photo-stories shot at the London Hotel, with every new page telling a new story and theme: religion, death, belonging, madness etc. Another one of Nukem’s recent projects was a solo show called “Humans” at London’s NR Project Art spaces in summer 2019. The show focused the beauty that emerges when individuals are willing to free themselves from society’s norms and embrace the concepts of breaking out of social standards.

The young artist has had an impressive beginning to his career. In just five short years, Nukem has become one of the United Kingdom’s most highly admired contemporary artists. Many articles and applications have recognized his achievements and have shared his artwork. Applications such as Pinterest and websites such as Artnet have highlighted Haris Nukem’s talent by sharing his artwork pieces. His photographs start conversations, and give people access to a world that isn’t theirs.

The post The Life and Work of Haris Nukem appeared first on 514Blog.

Ketogenic Diet – A Dietitian Review by Monica Chackal

Monica Chackal — Wed, 17 Sep 2025 19:19:51 +0000

Ketogenic Diet – A Dietitian Review

If I had to nominate the star diet for 2018, Ketogenic would definitely make the cut.

Online sites are flooded with different definitions & guidelines, showing its popularity, yet also making it hard to know what definition is correct. What some may not know, is before Keto was a fad, it was mainly used as a diet to treat epilepsy to reduce brain seizures.

What are my concerns as a Dietitian when someone wants to follow any diet?

Will this diet include enough variety to give your body all the nutrients it needs to function?
Does the person have any health issues that may make this diet unsafe?
Does the individual have an eating disorder – will this diet worsen it?
Will one easily regain the weight lost once transitioning off the diet?

Let’s start with a definition

The Ketogenic Diet

High fat, moderate protein, and very low carbohydrate (ideally maximum of 20 grams per day – but this may vary) in order to achieve “ketosis” for your body to use fat for fuel instead of its preferred carbohydrate source for energy. Some studies have shown that if you consume adequate protein needs, this process should not compromise your muscle mass.

The brains main go-to food is glucose, which is obtained when your body breaks down carbs. You even keep an extra stash of glucose in your liver in the form called glycogen, and this is why athletes do something called “carbohydrate loading” before an event – eating tons of carbs to store tons of glycogen because it’s an energy source the body can easily take out for use. When glucose is no longer available, the body will use other sources such as lipids (fat), as it can break down into ketone bodies, which the brain can use for fuel. Protein can also be utilized for this purpose as well. If we didn’t have these secondary mechanisms, we would drop dead a lot faster in certain situations!

Examples of what 20 grams of carbohydrate can be:

1 small fruit (apple, pear, etc)
1 small potato (regular or sweet)
2/3 cup grains (rice, corn, quinoa, etc)
1.6 cup milk
5tsp sugar, 4 tsp maple syrup, 3.5tsp honey
4 large tomatoes
2 large onions
1 large eggplant
½ bagel
1 pint of beer

High carb foods that tend to be excluded to meet the 20g mark: bread, cereals, cakes, cookies, pasta, pastries, pizza, muffins, noodles, sandwiches, sweets, added sugars, etc. Now let’s be honest. If you cut out all of these in general, I think one would have a serious calorie deficit → weight loss. I am not saying this to prove Ketosis does not exist, it does.

Benefits people express with this diet:

Feeling full and satisfied with meals (because of the high fat)
I have less “brain fog” (which people also expressed this feeling on other diets that include carbohydrates, so I figure the actual weight loss is the contributor here)
Weight loss

Not so exciting side effects some claim to get

Acetone breath (because of the acidic ketones floating around in your body)
“Keto flu” – nausea, stomach pain, dizziness – in the early stages of doing keto
Electrolytes imbalances (as the body changes to burning fats vs glucose)

My personal issue with keto:

It makes people think carbohydrates are Bad.

I feel bad for carbohydrates, they have really developed a bad reputation over time, but they also just so happened to find themselves as a vessel for most junk foods. Why? They are inexpensive ingredients that please our taste buds, and our portions sizes are often out of control. I find that most people who make this claim cannot even properly define what a carbohydrate is.

It is a macronutrient that is found across most foods in different quantities (dairy, whole unprocessed grains, fruits, VEGETABLES, beans, and more). Carbohydrates are even found amongst the raved superfoods: goji berries, wheatgrass, spirulina, etc. It’s about quality AND quantity!

When is Keto appropriate?

I think Keto is definitely beneficial to over weight or obese individuals who have a history of failing to loose weight with other means, and need to loose weight to improve serious health conditions (example: high blood pressure, pre-diabetes, high cholesterol, and many more). It should always be first approved by your doctor (as there are cases where keto would not be a safe option), and guided by in detail with a Registered Dietitian.

The post Ketogenic Diet – A Dietitian Review by Monica Chackal appeared first on 514Blog.

Best and Worst Online Dating Stories from 2025

Alexandra Daigle — Tue, 09 Sep 2025 22:08:58 +0000

Online dating has become one of the most popular ways to meet potential partners. Dating applications such as Tinder, Bumble and Hinge allow everyone to swipe right, making it incredibly easy to meet new people. With such sheer volume of encounters come a multitude of stories that often end by someone getting ghosted. Furthermore, new words are emerging. Benching: When someone is on the fence about a potential suitor, but instead of getting rid of them, they’ll keep their options open and would put them on the ‘bench’ – where there might be several others waiting. Bread-crumbing is leaving a trail of short but flirtatious messages for a potential date without having any intention of starting a relationship. Cushioning is someone with a new partner who keeps several other option on the backburner — just in case the main relationship goes south. “Cloaking” is like “Ghosting”, but much worse. Cloaking is when a person doesn’t just stand you up for a planned date, they also block you on all social media platforms that they follow you on.

Our first online dating story comes from a blogger named Rachel Thompson who invented the term “cloaking”. She matched with Matthew on Hinge and they really hit it off quite well. He asked her out on a date Thursday night to an Italian restaurant called Padella in London.

As Thursday night came along, she arrived at the restaurant and messaged him letting him know she has arrived. After about a half hour, Rachel checked her Whatsapp, where she had messaged him, and realized that her messages weren’t delivering. When she tried to iMessage him, the messages were sending as green rather than blue. She then opened Hinge, the dating app where they had met, and saw that all of their flirty messages had been erased. Matthew was even gone from her list of matches.

Jessica began to worry about if her date was even showing up. She decided to stay and have a glass of wine while waiting another 20 minutes. Jessica began looking through her messages with Matthew to find anything that seemed suspicious.

She just could not figure out why she had been blocked in just a few hours when everything had been going so good. After searching for more clues, she found his Facebook profile. The next day, Jessica decided to message him and give him a piece of her mind. She did not think it was right of him to lead her out and waste her time, especially when she is a busy woman.

Even though Matthew never responded, Jessica felt a huge weight lifted off her shoulder after sending the message. As time went on, Jessica heard of many other stories of her friends experiencing being ghosted or cloaked when online dating. It is an inescapable experience in the online dating world, however everyone deserves an explanation nonetheless!

The next story is from an anonymous user who met a charming man on Tinder. Here she explains her story: “So I met this guy on Tinder and we really hit it off and were texting for months, on Skype and the phone every day. He lived in London and I lived in Toronto so it was a bit of a long distance thing. I visited him one weekend and things got really hot and heavy but he didn’t want to have sex because he “didn’t want to lose me.” I pushed him on what that meant but he didn’t really give me a straight answer. So as I was leaving he said “text me when you get home so I know you got home safe. So I get home, and text him, no reply. The next day I check and ask “Hows your day?” and no answer. A few days go by and I’m like “Hey, are you okay?” and no response. This guy had really expressed feelings for me so it was odd that he would just disappear. Fast forward MONTHS later out of boredom I set up a Kijiji ad that said “Free N-64 to whoever leaves me the best Taylor Swift impression voicemail” and left his number as the contact number (Because I’m petty AF). A few days later I sent him a Taylor Swift meme on Facebook and he was like THAT WAS YOU! Then he broke down and told me why he ghosted: He had become a Jehovah’s witness and thought I was too tempting, and also his ex had called him saying she had a secret abortion of his baby and he went into a deep depression and didn’t talk to anyone for months. Needless to say, I declined when he said he wanted to try things again.”

The third story is on the more positive side, which comes from Natasha. The following user was introverted and never believed in making any friends or being in any relationships. One day, his best friend, who happens to be quite a dating expert, suggested to find him an online date for Friday night. However, Natasha was very against this idea because she wanted to find her prince charming in a more romantic way. As the two best friends argued, they decided to try it out since Natasha had not had any luck finding any dates on her own. They made Natasha an account on Match.com. The following day, Natasha had a match with a charming man asking her out to dinner this weekend. She agreed, even though she felt uncomfortable when another person paid for her and took her out with the chance of getting ghosted, as it has happened to her before. The day of their date, she arrived 10 minutes early. He only arrived half an hour later. He apologised for being late, as he had gotten pulled over for speeding and the cop gave him a hard time. They ended up talking for hours and began to really like each other’s company. After seeing each other for over 2 years, they knew they were perfect for one another and got married. They ended up having a beautiful 6 month old daughter. Natasha hates to admit that she met her husband on an online dating website, but she is also extremely grateful for the day she put herself out there. She is now blessed with a beautiful family due to her date from Match.com.

This story is from the Twitter user @SingleintheSou1. After matching with a guy she bonded with over Football on Hinge, they exchanged phone numbers. They had planned to meet the following week, as they had not met yet. While they were texting, she got pretty upset over him mentioning he had been on a date the previous weekend…

She ended up ghosting him over the matter, which led to a debate over whether or not she was in the right or wrong.

He proceeds to question her about whether or not she was speaking to other guys. The debate on Twitter reveals that many users agree with the guy who got ghosted, due to the fact that people who are dating are allowed to date as many people as they want until they decide to get into a serious relationship. The text messages hold valid points defending this argument, such as the idea of speaking to multiple women in case one of them decides to ghost him.

The following online dating story is shared by an anonymous user. On the second meeting with her man, she invited him over to her house with the conditions that he would leave as soon as it got dark. When the sun set, the man did not leave and instead snuck around to finish a bottle of alcohol that was in his backpack. He began to slur his words and would not leave. As he was too drunk to use public transport, she tried to drive him home but he would not tell her the address. She demanded to see his wallet to look at his ID and get his address, but he pulled out a tin of Altoids instead. She believed that he was pretending to be drunk, until she finally got fed up and dropped him off at a Dicks in his neighborhood because he didn’t know where he lived and was only speaking nonsense. When he got out, he stumbled into the street and parking lot without looking. She went back home and realized that he forgot his backpack. She then finds his wallet with his ID, the death certificate of his child who had committed suicide, and some key papers. The next day, she brought him back his belongings and ended up giving him another chance. She still regrets it to this day.

This next story comes from a female Tinder member who is still fuming till this day. She started seeing this guy she met on Tinder and they ended up agreeing to be exclusive. All of a sudden, he just stopped texting her and she has absolutely no idea what she did wrong. As most girls would do, her and her friends stalked his social media accounts only to find a SEPARATE Instagram account.

This account exposed that he has a girlfriend and that they were together in Cuba at that very moment. Why would he ask her to be exclusive if he had another girlfriend?! She was absolutely blindsided but did not say a word. About a week after ghosting her, she received a text from him saying “I miss you” WHILE he was still on vacation with his girlfriend. She sent back a screenshot of his instagram account with his girlfriend and a “F*ck You” text, followed by blocking his accounts.

Finally, this last story is from the Twitter user BARTY. She has shared her most hilarious and also weirdest date experience. She had her first real date with this guy that she met online. They met on social media and in no time they began to know each other very well. After some days they planned to go for a movie on the coming weekend. The actual hilarious story begins here when they both reach exactly on time and soon realise that none of them had purchased the ticket in advance because of this reason they couldn’t manage to get two tickets next to each other. Finally they ended up sitting on the opposite sides of the theater. After the movie they did not ever meet again. Barty expresses this as her weirdest date she ever had.

Nowadays, online dating can be very unpredictable. Some online dates end in marriage and a beautiful family, while many others end in getting ghosted or even “cloaked”. Although many users prefer meeting a significant other in person at an event or out on a stroll, it cannot be ignored that online dating has facilitated the dating world and how we interact and meet compatible matches. Many people would agree that this is for the best, while many other users on Twitter share the same opinion that Online Dating Applications are actually ruining relationships. The reasoning behind this is that online dating users find it harder to settle down with one individual due to there being an abundance of other dating profiles waiting for them to swipe right if something doesn’t work out. Dating has never been easier, or harder as other users would say.

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Cartoons by Robert J. Lewis

Robert J. Lewis — Thu, 10 Jul 2025 21:20:29 +0000

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