Tuesday, December 26, 2006

I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm




Each blade of grass has its spot on earth whence it draws its life, its strength; and so is man rooted to the land from which he draws his faith together with his life.
Joseph Conrad


It occurs to me that I arrived in Vancouver 18 years ago. This is the longest I've called one place home in my life. Where I grew up, Ottawa, isn't my home. This is my home, in fact my apartment now, is literally 50 feet away from the room where I spent my first night in Vancouver.

I draw a strength from this city, I've been to hell and back in this burgh. For all of my whining and griping that appears on this journal of my life, this city is my strength, my spine, my heart, my courage, and my soul.

Perhaps it's the newness of the place. The ground is still ripping open and pushing up, it's not eroding like the eastern part of the country which emerged further back in time, and is falling back to the sea.

my life will span one tenth of a blink of an eye in geological time, but I feel a birthing going on here, more than a renewal, it's a creation.

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