I’ve been feel­ing nos­tal­gic about Toronto ever since I drove down for John’s wed­ding. The other day I stepped out­side and the spring air brought me back to Camp Creative when I used to live there, between semes­ters in grade 5–7. At some point this year I hope to drive home again and take pic­tures of those old schools where I spent the days mak­ing gimp bracelets¹ and lip-syncing as Javert in Les Miserables.

Places are only as good as the peo­ple though, and I’m sure I miss Toronto for John and Darren as much as those old child­hood mem­o­ries, when life was so sim­ple that the fact that it was dis­gust­ingly hot never entered my mind, even though I was out­side for most of the day.

Scottish faces in Scottish places. This was lit­er­ally the size of half the cafe. Off-camera is Mike work­ing his magic to con­vince these two baris­tas to let us film inside.

I miss Mike and rainy London nights too. I want to be part of a cre­ative team again, work­ing towards a com­mon vision, with some­one who can com­pli­ment my weak­nesses with their strengths. It’s been too long since I had some­one to bounce ideas off of, some­one to give me hon­est crit­i­cism and inspire me to improve. Mike does all those things, and I’ve yet to find some­one like that here in Ottawa.

Night shop­ping in down­town Chartres.

I miss France, and Misun and Frédéric, and how they could truly appre­ci­ate who I am. I love the cul­ture in that coun­try, and the fact that you can buy a fresh baguette by walk­ing a minute from any­where. And I’m far from being fin­ished with Paris; there was so much I had left to explore, so many things I’d yet to do. I want to go back as the right per­son, not as a per­son try­ing to escape my thoughts and memories.

Gateway in Kowloon Walled City.

Hong Kong I miss most of all, and my fam­ily there. I want noth­ing more than to walk those streets with Uncle Joe or Uncle Eddie. Sometimes, I sit by my back door with the win­dow open and just lis­ten to cars pass­ing by in the dark­ness, pre­tend­ing it’s the din of those high­ways and the diesel of the trucks. Nothing ever comes close though, and it only leaves me feel­ing like all these places are so far away.

1. Square, cir­cle, and but­ter­fly were my favourites. [↑]