Crisp and cold the evening, busy street alive around me. The fruit stand beside the bus stop smells fresh when you get up close. The fallen autumn leaves, left to fend for themselves on the sidewalks, crowd together to watch the show, just as I am. Its an exciting show called Commercial Drive, its cast the very people that walk along it.
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I actually quite enjoy the fact it smells like weed tonight as I make my way to Grant Street alone because it reminds me of where I am, this wonderful neighborhood that I live in, full of the broken and the beautiful, and people who vote for the Marijuana Party. I think if Stephen Harper came here many would throw rubber chickens at him. Sorry Stevo, that's just the way it goes.
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There are people wearing costumes, Halloween masks, fairy wings, and dominatrixes (if that's a word) everywhere. How ironic that these costumes considered an act of subversion for the rest of the year are perfectly accepted by all in this "frightful" season. I think if you are a dominatrix, you should dress up as a housewife for Halloween instead, cause at least that way you'd truly be out of character for a night - unless of course you were a housewife that was also a dominatrix...getting off track here.
I absolutely love the styles here - the thick layers of colours, ripped material, beaded bags and hats, and an endless stream of funky boots. Once upon a time you would have thought these people were ragamuffins, transients just passing though, but truth be told, most of them are highly intelligent university students getting master's degrees, activists for social justice, or inspired artists who pay hefty rents and own Macs.
You see, on the Drive looks can be deceiving. You never really know how to judge one person from the next when you walk down this vibrant street. It kinda just makes you give up on judging altogether - which is probably a good thing. I like to give in to the feeling I get here, a feeling of humanity and rebellion, the general sense that you know something crucial that the rest of the capitalist-friendly world doesn't, probably stemming from the hundreds of conspiracy theorists wandering in and out of coffee shops posting their convoluted bills.
I think I feel acceptable here, I feel that in all the confusion, searching, and the counterculture undertones, there is a deep honesty. People are not as afraid of seeing things differently or being seen differently, and I only wonder how easy it would be for God to move in people like that, people who are open, accepting, and compassionate by nature.
I believe there is a thin line here between lostness and redemption that most of us are walking like a tightrope - we just don't know it. But I can feel something as I walk alone tonight, on this crisp and cold evening, the busy street alive around me - its the presence of God on Commercial Drive the day before Halloween, and its everywhere, strong and enveloping, even surprising. I feel His hands reaching out, and His soul-penetrating whisper in the air, "I have loved you with an everlasting love". Can they hear it too?
There are people wearing costumes, Halloween masks, fairy wings, and dominatrixes (if that's a word) everywhere. How ironic that these costumes considered an act of subversion for the rest of the year are perfectly accepted by all in this "frightful" season. I think if you are a dominatrix, you should dress up as a housewife for Halloween instead, cause at least that way you'd truly be out of character for a night - unless of course you were a housewife that was also a dominatrix...getting off track here.
I absolutely love the styles here - the thick layers of colours, ripped material, beaded bags and hats, and an endless stream of funky boots. Once upon a time you would have thought these people were ragamuffins, transients just passing though, but truth be told, most of them are highly intelligent university students getting master's degrees, activists for social justice, or inspired artists who pay hefty rents and own Macs.
You see, on the Drive looks can be deceiving. You never really know how to judge one person from the next when you walk down this vibrant street. It kinda just makes you give up on judging altogether - which is probably a good thing. I like to give in to the feeling I get here, a feeling of humanity and rebellion, the general sense that you know something crucial that the rest of the capitalist-friendly world doesn't, probably stemming from the hundreds of conspiracy theorists wandering in and out of coffee shops posting their convoluted bills.
I think I feel acceptable here, I feel that in all the confusion, searching, and the counterculture undertones, there is a deep honesty. People are not as afraid of seeing things differently or being seen differently, and I only wonder how easy it would be for God to move in people like that, people who are open, accepting, and compassionate by nature.
I believe there is a thin line here between lostness and redemption that most of us are walking like a tightrope - we just don't know it. But I can feel something as I walk alone tonight, on this crisp and cold evening, the busy street alive around me - its the presence of God on Commercial Drive the day before Halloween, and its everywhere, strong and enveloping, even surprising. I feel His hands reaching out, and His soul-penetrating whisper in the air, "I have loved you with an everlasting love". Can they hear it too?
Commercial Drive, I watched the show again tonight, I saw the faces of God's counterculture, lesbian, pot-smoking beloved, still waiting to find their true lover...."hold on", my heart cried, 'He's closer than you realise" in this wonderful neighborhood full of the broken and the beautiful...
