It’s extremely surreal to sit here at my computer, three kilometres from downtown, and look at pictures of police cars burning. At Queen and Spadina.
Between this and the earthquake, it’s been a week of disturbance.
And, as always, the literal upheaval is mirrored by another sort, in my mind, where a tectonic shift opens rifts in the landscape and shows me a new face of my earth. And I think about Operation Mincemeat and Schwerer Gustav and tiny china horses, and from this thought comes something springing, bright and spiny, through the broken soil.
