I took a ferry to the Sunshine Coast yesterday, accompanied by Lisa. Since then I've been surrounded by Greek words, beautiful large-scale art and much needed exchanges with wonderful women.

The small public library smells just like a small public library. Just like the one in New Brunswick, the one I used to bike out to alone on cool autumn nights, with my mittens and crimson cheeks and my breath visible in the night air.

The mountains, however, are not like New Brunswick. They sit around the island like big fat men sitting lazily around a chess game outside a cafe. They are simply there, they always have been, and the game will go on forever.

I spent the afternoon alone in Vancouver yesterday. I climbed aboard a bus, down more unknown streets, and found my way to the coolest shoe store in BC. I bought a pair of white leather moccasin booties, with a crazy fringe all around and pretty embroidered, colourful flowers. Ottawa needs a kick in the ass with a cool and weird pair of boots.

I am so physically far away from home, and I feel this. I feel this strange mix of excitement, movement, anticipation, along with a rock-solid understanding of that buddhist Now, content, peaceful. Fromage, I know - but try being here for a few days, you'll see...

The library is closing its doors. My leg-warmered Lisa and powerful new artist friend Kali are exiting as I write. I am being sucked out of this quiet little place to the gorgeousness outside...