There. Didn't know quite how to break the ice after such a long stay away from my fingers on the story board. That, up there, was Me with a Pick.
I've been thinking for several days about intentions and setting them. It's something my various yoga instructors mention. It's something Magically Successful people bring up. It will likely help when one needs a direction. Setting intention.
Toronto is a lovely city. The neighbo(u)rhood of Queen West, where Devyn's cozy "Hobbit Hole" is located, is deliciously artistic and raunchy. Raunchy in that lovely incorrigable way, not in the bad smell way.
The diversity of this city is savory too, and people use the word "quite" quite a lot. It's neither colder nor warmer nor less or more windy than Chicago. The cost of living is higher, but so seems the quality of it. People are fitter looking here, fresher faced, and they all make kissy "hello/goodbye" motions to one another, which I really like the feel of. There are French speakers about and I haven't read or heard Spanish since I left home.
I haven't doubted myself since I left home, and I've listened to my first instincts more sincerely.