traces of things

I was really exhausted this weekend, but still managed to have lunch with NBQ, dinner and a movie with Mom, brunch with and , and attend the 2nd birthday for the DJ.

R&F drove around and did some errands. We ended up in Kensington. F. erroneously asked if it were "pedestrian free Sunday" which made me imagine an entire alternate universe. You couldn't pay me to drive a car through Kensington Market - life is too short for that sort of thing.

I'm not sure I understand the punctuation, but I like it. Notice the 'o' is a tear drop. I read it as encouraging of a sad bicycle. However, it could equally be admonishing bicyclists not to scream, "Bike!" What do you think?








These wheatpasted bows are turning up everywhere, with slight variations on shape and wild variations on colour. This one on Brock St. seems a study on intensity, rather than hue.


I love the ghosts of buildings which once were: