It’s a fine Toronto afternoon towards the end of May. It’s room temperature out and I’m on the south-east edge of downtown or perhaps it’s outside of downtown. I’m not really an authority on the matter but there’s not much at this intersection but strange looking factories. It smells like manure. I’m waiting for my longtime friend and rising Toronto artist Andrew Wilson. He’s a bit late. I haven’

0 comments

Post a Comment

bookmark
bookmark
bookmark
bookmark
bookmark

Blogger news