august 4-5 2018. east of main, vancouver. best night i’ve had in weeks. quiet, dark, a bit cooler. it was the last night of vancouver’s celebration of explosions on english bay. i went in the opposite direction and it was as if the city was mine. or at least it would leave me alone for the night.
weaving a way through alleys and cubbies and unopen spaces, i felt the silence wrap itself around me like a pair of legs. my eyes adjusted to the darkness and i could suddenly perceive all the detail – no, all of it – streching back into time’s horizon.
for a moment it was as if the city and i understood each other. just for a moment. i turned into the next alley. and there it was, the whole length of the block: a complete wall of murals from 2007, one of those years i just don’t remember. the sun started to rise, but it was crying too.