During the summer of 2003, I packed a bag and went to Montreal to be an artist. This is part 2 of a series of emails I sent home during that summer.

A time capsule

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Friday May 16 2003

Bonjour. How are you all? Things here going quite nicely. I’m starting to feel settled. All of the new roomies have arrived… no bitter fighting yet. I feel like i’m on estrogen overload though. Better in theory than in practice.

I’m starting to feel like i’ve got a pretty good handle on the city. My place couldn’t be in a better spot…. I can’t get over it. Lots of really done up people… like a bunch of cookie cutter drones; everyone in bleach stained jeans, wierd euro loud shirts that i don’t yet understand and those trendy see through sunglasses… you know?

I was somewhere down in old montreal the other day drawing a building or something and it hit me that I have absolutely nothing to do until july…. it was exciting.

I’m determined to figure out the guitar and have some pretty wicked blisters to prove it. I’m almost finished a big painting of Adam Neilson sitting on the toilet. Adam, you might need to buy it for your wife.

poo poo

Yesterday I decided it would be a good idea to run up the mountain. It seemed like a good idea until i started to run. Since when do run anywhere, let alone up mountains? (For those of you who aren’t sure, the answer is I don’t). Not only did i run up a mountain, I pulled my “yeah, I jog” routine and ran really fast up the mountain. when I got to the top I realized that I could have driven up… or taken a cab… and felt extremely misled. “BULLSHIT,” I shouted! Then i swore in french too so that no one was left out from my dismay. The top was lovely…. good view, although it’s no vancouver. I took the short cut on the way down (which also left me feeling deceived, having not discovered it on the way up).

I discovered the problem with my gym: until a couple of years ago, when they let us breeders join, LaCite was an exclusive club for gay francophones. It explains everything. Well, not everything, but it explains all of the naked men rubbing one another… and the hotpants… and the tanning bed in the change room.

J