Moments
Last night I went to go see the Rubberbandance Group perform. The group fuses hip hop moves with more classic techniques. I thought the performance was spectacular: they performed ridiculously impressive moves with incredible emotion. During one point, a female dancer rejected a male, and several members of the audience moaned "awww". I chimed in too, because my heartstrings were definitely being pulled, sniff sniff.
My friend G asked me to go to the show with her the day before, so it was rather spontaneous. After the show, we meandered up the staircases and terraces outside the National Arts Centre. I realized that these staircases linked two different spots downtown that I frequent often. Up 'till last night, I hadn't realized that I could get from one to the other via that route. It's funny how you can live in a city your whole life and find these little undiscovered corners that make things just click more inside your head.
It was still bright outside, yesterday being the day before the summer solstice. We made our way to where G had parked her ancient and rusty bicycle and she told me the stories of her life of late (lifting weights with a weak/whiny/male mutual friend, using dead wrong hand signals while on her bike and getting honked at, etc.) I couldn't stop laughing; it physically hurt.
We finally parted ways, with me shouting ridiculously obvious commands at her like a doting mother ("Ride safely! Use proper signalling!") as she cut across one of the widest and busiest streets downtown (illegally). Hearing G's stories, taking in the late-day sun, and chatting and lingering on the sidewalk because of the sedative effect of the relaxed atmosphere that is intrinsic to early summer just made me think: these are the moments that matter in life.
My friend G asked me to go to the show with her the day before, so it was rather spontaneous. After the show, we meandered up the staircases and terraces outside the National Arts Centre. I realized that these staircases linked two different spots downtown that I frequent often. Up 'till last night, I hadn't realized that I could get from one to the other via that route. It's funny how you can live in a city your whole life and find these little undiscovered corners that make things just click more inside your head.
It was still bright outside, yesterday being the day before the summer solstice. We made our way to where G had parked her ancient and rusty bicycle and she told me the stories of her life of late (lifting weights with a weak/whiny/male mutual friend, using dead wrong hand signals while on her bike and getting honked at, etc.) I couldn't stop laughing; it physically hurt.
We finally parted ways, with me shouting ridiculously obvious commands at her like a doting mother ("Ride safely! Use proper signalling!") as she cut across one of the widest and busiest streets downtown (illegally). Hearing G's stories, taking in the late-day sun, and chatting and lingering on the sidewalk because of the sedative effect of the relaxed atmosphere that is intrinsic to early summer just made me think: these are the moments that matter in life.