Not So Silent Nights

Back in Calgary, I chose to attend the first Thursday at Art Central alone (all part of my new years resolution to see more of the city). I pass the building every day on the way to work and never get the chance to go in. The first Thursday of each month, the galleries stay open late, there is live music and cocktails, so far its been the culural highlight of Calgary. Maybe my contacts were just dry, or I was still recovering from new years but the canvas and its colors seemed to radiate, bounce about. I had never seen hues like these before, perhaps forgotten what color really was. I wondered to myself how people become so talented and why there isn’t more for collaborations between artists and designers. To find colors and prints like this on a bag, skirt, dress or shirt would be to die for. Hypnotized and thoughtful, from gallery to gallery I gladly remembered the last two weeks and all the joy of the holiday season.
It was non stop reunions of charismatic chaos. From the second I landed back in Toronto and felt the movement of the city I had fled it seemed to begin again. It was freezing, worse than Calgary. Throughout my visit I caught up with old friends in what were our usual haunts and a few unfamiliar ones, some of the charms of Toronto still existed during this time of year for me, like the moving display in the windows of the Bay near Young street, the amazing shopping of the Eaton Centre (Victoria secret pink stores – stocked up on the unmentionables for a decent price). Hy’s Steak house and Hamilton Place where we spotted Stewart Mclean from Vinyl Café and one of my favourite places; The Joyce.
We laughed, we drank, we shopped, and we ate. Did everything the holidays dictate to do. At least once a day I would see one of my old gal pals wearing something that used to belong to me, a Stella McCartney sweater here, a pair of Choo’s there, the fashion show would continue in front of me from day to night. Some of the girls would comment on how much they loved the items others would pretend they didn’t remember where they came from, as though they owned (and paid for) those Betsey J skirts and Miu Miu shirts their entire life. Maybe they were afraid I would ask for them back. I was glad they were being enjoyed though. It was kind of like seeing an ex with a new girlfriend. When you finally see it you know it is no longer yours.
On the 31st, New Years Eve, I was back at the Toronto International Airport, bag behind me. Boarding a plane to Vegas with more or less of a stranger that I had just met the night before. His name was Jim; he was exactly what you would expect from a Jim. This great big mountain man type with a booming voice like the Green Giant kinda, less green though. I was introduced to him the previous evening at dinner, turned out he was visiting from Calgary as well and we had mutual friends in Toronto. So there we were, eating, drinking and talking about experiences in Calgary when he asked about my plans for New Years. The conversation evolved and the glasses kept being refilled and by the end of the night (I realized the following morning) I had agreed to go to Vegas with him to see Tiesto in concert! It was surreal, it was stupid. I’ve been putting off looking at all the things that could have gone wrong. Somehow I was lucky enough not to be left in Vegas in a body bag. Let’s hope that luck continues throughout the year.