Sitting in the narrow seat of the Timothy's at King and Charlotte, I'm here because we have two hours to kill before the Art Bar, and I want to watch the streetcars as I write. We've perched next to a loop where streetcars gather, empty, to return up Spadina to get pounded by Chinatown. The sun shines through the window. The block across from us has been knocked down, giving us a brief glimpse of big sky before the condo rises up to take it away.
People are everywhere, more prolific as cars. They are crossing without a care to traffic, going in straight lines, but never parallel to each other. It's a world of lines and angles. Of purpose and diversion. Cars cut cyclists off. The streetcars pick their way through the melee.
And I sit and drink my coffee. I'm out of practise with these life studies, and I need to get back into it.
I should mention that Erin's appearance at the Art Bar this past Tuesday went very well. She read second and enraptured the poetry crowd for a good twenty minutes. We sold six copies of Seal up the Thunder and had an excellent time. Thanks to Maria for getting us there and for having copies of the book ready to sell.
It was also good to meet with journalism student Mindi from Humber College, who interviewed Erin about her life of poetry. We got to eat in the Java House and then Erin and I spent two hours, seen above, in a downtown Timothy's, trying to write. There is an energy about Toronto that makes you feel alive. As you can see from what I wrote above, I didn't write well, but I did write; the above, and a passage of The Young City.
I'd love to return to Toronto, but there's no way I could pull it off on a writer's salary. Nosiree.