Celestino Shoe Store.

227/365

Memory Laneways

38/365

When I was a restless youth, I used to roam the prairies in my free time.  I’d take whatever car I had keys to and just drive.  For hours.

Luckily, in Alberta, this was an easy thing to do.  One friend likened the experience to driving on a treadmill (though to be fair, he was referring to Saskatchewan).

I once went on a month-long road trip where most of my days were spent driving.  I didn’t see much of the places I stopped over in.  The real joy came from the driving itself.  The freedom to explore at high speed.  And the sight of the world, wide and open, undulating and unraveling before me.

It’s a sight I haven’t seen in a long long time.

Grey Saturday.

32/365

There was an unexpected chill in the air today.

It made that late afternoon nap all the more satisfying.

Changing gears.

28/365

Pulled the bikes out of hibernation today.  And just the thought of riding in the spring sunshine tomorrow was enough to lift my soul.

An internal dialogue taking place in a movie theatre.

21/365

I went to watch a movie today.  Brought my camera.  Where to put it.  I start to wonder. 

Should I put my camera away on the seat next to me, wrapped in a scarf, in my bag?  What about no scarf, then I can get it out faster if I need.  But what if the people behind me see my camera and decide to steal it.  Should I wrap its strap around the armrest?  But what if I can’t get it when I need it because it is tied around the armest, tied with a scarf, tied to my purse which is tied to the seat?

I watched the whole movie with my camera, muffled with a scarf, balled in my bag, zipped tight with clenched teeth and closed fists.

Red-ish

18/365

Spring is here and that means cool shades and red heat are coming soon.

I belong here.

9/365

I’ve spent 5 of the last 6 years in this city and yet Toronto still feels like a stranger to me.  We have more of a casual acquaintance.  We’ve seen each other around, maybe we’ve shared some good laughs here and there but we aren’t at the point where we’re having long phone conversations on a Saturday morning.

Coming from a small city, I find it impressive how well some people know Toronto — its secrets, gems and intersections.  And it’s not just a few of those things, but a lot of them.  My sister-in-law can name all the streets in Parkdale, in order, from north to south — and without even trying.  It’s not like a test for her, these are things that she just knows. I, on the other hand, still get confused over which is more west, Brock or Sheridan.

Like all relationships, this kind of intimate knowledge takes time and it takes effort.  I realize now I’ve been much too casual with this city of mine.  Taking it for granted, assuming that it will reveal itself to me with minimal effort on my part.  Thinking, mistakenly, that it will want to know me.

But Toronto isn’t easy like that.  She doesn’t splay out her riches, like fake chips of glass posing as bling.  She knows what she’s got and only rewards those who make the effort.

I wasn’t sure about it before but now I know.  I want to be one of those who makes the effort.

Toronto Stories

8/365

One of my favourite memories of living in this city involves a streetcar.

When we’re together, my husband and I are like children.  We joke and play and talk in our secret language.  We’ve even been known to sword fight in toy stores.

One summer night a couple of years ago, we were riding our bikes home.  It was late and the streets were empty.  Except for this one streetcar.   At first, it was casual.  Like most Torontonians, we acted like we didn’t see each other.  But for us kids, this situation was too tempting to resist.

We kept meeting it at the lights but, as soon as the light changed, we were off.  Racing.  Racing the streetcar, racing each other.  I was even wearing stilettos but that didn’t stop me.  I was pumping hard and flying and laughing.  I felt so free.

This went on for several blocks.  I was breathless.  The driver even opened his door and cheered me on as we raced alongside.

I don’t remember who won — him, me or the streetcar.

All I remember is that when it was over, the driver rang his bell and we waved and watched as he glided away.

24*7

7/365

There aren’t many places or people that are available whenever you want them.  But the few that are, are worth appreciating.  Like the drive-thru at McDonald’s or The Lakeview on Dundas.  It is a small miracle (or gross indulgence, depending on your perspective) that it is possible to have fries at any time of the day.

My father-in-law is like this.  Anytime you need anything, he’s there.  Even if you don’t need anything, he’ll ask if you do and offer anyway.  Sometimes he won’t even offer — he’ll just do it.  Like bring over groceries at random, just because he thought we’d enjoy this fresh bundle of asparagus or pint of blackberries.

He’s pretty special and we’re pretty lucky to have him.  He’s a nice guy.

Night Terrors

6/365

Ever since I laid down this challenge for myself, I’ve become acutely aware of a fear I have: the fear of taking a bad picture.

All day long, I find myself looking at my everyday surroundings, wondering if today is the day that I can find something new to photograph.  How about this bookshelf?  This plant?  This leaf?  The specks of dust on said leaf?  Is there something anything intriguing here? Please?

Most times, the answer is No.

The fear of having nothing to show for the day is so powerful that it drives me out, out into the middle of a winter storm, hunting for anything I can point my camera at.

I could barely keep my head up, as the flecks of snow made beelines for my eyes.  I ate plenty of snowflakes and none intentionally.

But crazily enough, I felt happy.  I was warm and outside and prepared.  This walk was exactly the kind of walk I’ve been longing to do for so long but never did.  Before this challenge, I had plenty of excuses (and a total lack of guts).

But I have a goal now.  And that means no more excuses.

Probably doesn’t mean the end of taking bad pictures but I can hope anyway.