A few days ago, I had to go to Toronto for a Finnish class. It was the first time I’d been to Toronto since I moved away in mid-January, and I was expecting it to feel disorienting. I felt a slight surge of alarm as I got to my old subway station and didn’t disembark, but aside from that, there was nothing major. Afterwards, I was happy to cocoon in my parka on the bus […]
Rules of transformation Read More »
The summer after Grade 10, my family and I went to visit my great-uncle and great-aunt in northern California. We ended up all getting colds, and spent a few days recuperating in their home. For some reason, I only brought one tape with me – Elastica’s first album. I listened to it over and over until I grew to hate it. After that, I listened to talk radio at night. It was so quiet
Yesterday was spent exploring, driving through the rain and taking pictures of houses, main streets, beautiful brick and stone buildings. Secret little towns and areas that surprise us. Searching for a place we can insert ourselves. Adjusting expectations. Vague words are the best I have because vague thoughts are all I have. My brain is all over the place – hence this day-late post. Another highlight from yesterday: Sleeping in my old bed in my childhood
No pictures for today, which has already been a day of moments too quick to photograph. Like the intersection where, as I pressed the walk button, I saw a photo attached to the pole. Black-and-white, a professional-looking shot of a young man wearing black-rimmed glasses, with a slightly startled expression on his face. After the very brief moment it took for me to notice it, a gust of wind took it away. Almost as if
Pictures, and otherwise Read More »
When the lights don’t come back after an hour, I start to grow anxious, imagining the worst (it appears prolonged blackouts have had that effect on me since 2003). And then there are reports of flooding in Toronto, which make me doubly anxious after the terrible floods last month in southern Alberta, including my former home, Calgary. I’m at my parents’ house, which means an abundance of flashlights and candles. We fill up jugs of
If you’ve been reading my blogs for a while, you may have seen me write about this before (sorry to repeat myself). This time of year I can’t help but note the date and think back. After three years it’s habitual. Berlin, my brother’s wedding, then my husband and I off to dreamy York, then the volcanic ash cloud, then a week stranded in London. Many parts of that trip went into a short story
Some York, but mostly London. Read More »
A small slice of the quotidian: Today, the last day of a long weekend, is quiet and lazy. Through the open balcony door there’s the sound of faraway cars, and the occasional curl of wind that’s promisingly un-chilling. On the other side of the wall I hear my neighbour belting out a few seconds of some song I can’t identify. People are sliding their balcony doors open, wiping down their chairs, getting their plant pots organized.
The air bites and stings. I wrap my face in my scarf and tuck my head down against the wind. But later, inside, the sun burns in through the windows like summer. And I’ve been wishing for summer lately, despite myself, despite my nature. I don’t remember the humidity, the sluggishness, the sweat, the irritation. Instead, I remember exploratory drives and shorelines and evening breezes and cold beer and dripping ice cream and stretching your
I’m a morning writer. The earlier, the better. Before the world has really woken up, and while it’s still quiet and slowly brightening outside. When there are only a few lights on in the building across the street, curtains left open and lamps left on. Hearing the small sounds of the person in the apartment above me starting her day. I lead a pretty quiet life anyway, but there’s something about that small window of
