Issue Three: Editor’s Letters

Right now I wish I was at home. It’s been eleven days of unfamiliar cities and sleeping on couches.  I don’t have anything against travel–it’s one of my favourite things.  But the favourite-things-list also includes being able to find the right brand of dental floss in the supermarket, which I cannot do here.

Travelling is an amazing experience, but when I collapse on a couch with a sleeping bag instead of my own bed, I’d rather be at home.  I miss my pet goldfish making annoying noises while I try to sleep.  I miss laundry machine and two dollar coins and seeing friends. It’s uncomfortable knowing that I won’t run into anyone I know at a record store (all of which, by the way, have been below Vancouver standards so far). It’s weird being away from home.

Walking through Times Square at midnight was magical.  Bright lights, full of people, in the city that never sleeps.  Everything here is new and exciting. Even the air is different (namely, it periodically smells like garbage). I love to travel. But I also love that brand of Canada-only dental floss.  I love home.

Do me a favour and go see a concert for me. Check out a free show (We Are the City, anyone? August 24th?). Take advantage of being surrounded by friends and familiar places.

With love from the middle of a forest,

L

Unlike Liana, I am confused as to where home is for me. Like for the majority of people, my happiest times were spent in my childhood. In grade 2, my very ESL parents dragged me out of my happy home, away from my family and friends to a better country thousands of miles away from home just so I could lead a better life.

A few days ago, after 6 years, I travelled from my comfortable home in Vancouver to my birth place, Tehran. The amount of nostalgia, depression, heat and pollution hit me so hard that I’ve ended up wearing an eyepatch again.

Tehran is generally a very confusing city. Walking around makes me anxious, and the bazaars are very stressful. I’m too used to the very calm Vancouver atmosphere. However, the air is exciting and the people are a crazy. The good kind of crazy.

If only I could bring my two favourite places closer together.

With love from a third world country,

M

Related Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Recent Posts

Entangled: More Than Meets The Eye

The Vancouver Art Gallery’s current exhibition Entangled: Two Views on Contemporary Canadian Painting explores two concurrent approaches to understanding the...

Review: Slowdive

In 1995, Slowdive released their third album, Pygmalion. Sparse, ambient, and even less commercial than the band’s previous work, the...

The Fight Against Displacement: An Interview With Chinatown Concern Group

Founded in 2013, the Chinatown Concern Group has been working with residents, many of whom are elderly and face language...

Objects in Motion: Seeing Northwest Coast Art In A Different Light

Kaayd hllngaay skaayxan (spruce-root basket) with Wasgo (Sea Wolf) imagery, c. 1890-1920; Woven by Skidegate Haida artist and painted by...

Review: Waxahatchee’s Latest Album Has Very Little ‘Storm’ to Speak Of

Katie Crutchfield, otherwise known as Waxahatchee, is a veteran of brooding, introspective lyricism. It’s her plaintive, emotion laid bare that garnered...

Cinerama

In my art school days my tutor, Pete Bowcott (who claimed to be the lovechild of performance art pioneer Joseph...

Seu Jorge presents: The Life Aquatic – A Tribute to David Bowie

A bespectacled man walks onto the stage in an opulent theatre. Standing in front of the rapt audience, he introduces...

Her Pity Party (But Also Mine)

When we were sixteen, Lorde and I existed in worlds too small for our souls. We were restless. We wasted...