My first impression of Toronto was different from the one most Vancouverites hold dear, whether or not they’ve ever been to the city. I was captivated. There was just so much goddamn brick everywhere! The absence of cedar and glass was jarring at first but the way this town sat itself with such historical depth into the shoreline felt solid. It was like England but with stores I understood. England was my first brave thing geographically, Toronto was my second, they both had the same smell. Subway backdraft.
I found myself in two meetings this week that jetted me back to my pilgrimage east. Both with extraordinary people, both full of potential. There were those that had great faith in me when I first arrived here. Over time that changed. Sometimes understandably, sometimes shockingly. It’s a fact of life that people run hot and cold with each of us. Mrs. Garrett said so. But there were so many claims of hot that ran ice cold I became suspicious. Suspicious of compliments. Suspicious of offers to help me advance. I think this is what jaded looks like when it’s first starting to crystallize in your psyche.
Haven’t written a post for a while. Can you tell i’m giving it my all? I’ve spell checked “tantamount”. Get ready.
So. These meetings. Two meetings and a phone call to be precise. Universe hat trick or intervention, not sure which. Whatever that stuck place was that I was in, i’m out. And do you know what it took? A couple of good eggs making me believe that what I have to contribute matters. I’m not dumb, I know I gots mad skillz but the brain is a very powerful thing when it tells you that it would be easier to just not.
After the last meeting, “da ‘terd star”, in that glorious old carpet factory building in Liberty Village where every Flashdance loft fantasy comes visually to life, I bee lined to a deluxe home store. You know the kind. They sell shit that your Grandma has but without the rusty bits and for the price of her life savings. Every turning point for me needs a new expensive candle. I dig smells. I believe that if you add a layer of recognition to an experience through another sense, like smell, it’s locks in.
It’s why Olympians smell their pits after the medal ceremonies.
As proof that my universe was been shaken up a little bit, I had a very fancy lady in a very fancy car walk back four car lengths and give me her unexpired parking pass. Not sure if i’m being told to stop judging fancy ladies but i’ll at least be more aware that things aren’t always as they seem. And can I just say, she smelled AMAZING.
So here I am, back in my little writing nook going at it again. My candle smells like a sauna so as well as solidifying this week in history, it’s bringing back the exciting times of getting to dump water on the hot rocks while the Gustafson family geezers sat in the rafters drinking scotch.
Most things in the news have been absolute crap lately. Tantamount…there it is…to my efforts as a blogger. Fight the crap with me! Fire up a candle that smells like something you remember as lighting you up and burn it to the ground. First one that smelt it, dealt it.