Beyond the ocean, there is a place called home.

So I'm here in Royston, near Comox. The BBQ is sizzling away and soft jazz plays on the stereo. Life is good here, very rural and beautiful. I will be getting my feet moist in the VR tour game tomorrow, tagging along with Krystal to a shoot in a vacant house tomorrow.

The wedding was everything it should have been. Two really special people confirming to eachother and the world that they want to share their lives forever, in a fully individual and non-traditional fashion. It's impossible to feel jaded or cynical in the face of such true love. Instead of feeling sorry for myself and all the other single people willing to accept love, should it come to them but hasn't yet, I feel energized and sincerely happy for them.
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I stood out on the pier at Comox Marina today, stared at a glacier-tipped mountain range and sat under a giant tree. No photo evidence, as I forgot a memory card. I felt calm and clear and I think i am finally feeling at home here, partially because of the wifi in the house at home allowing me to work a bit while I vacation. It might also have to do with the fantastically amazing hosts I have. Krystal and Steev are, I can't even word it, that's how great they are and have been to let me become part of their lives for the month. People out here are crazy nice, open and generous to the point where it is almost embarrassing because you cant quite thank them enough.

I am however, pretty darned broke and have been trying to do as much free stuff as possible. For the first time on this trip, I actually said the words "I wanna go home" on Saturday night, although it was in a drunken stupor late in the night at Krystal's wedding.
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The clock is striking 9, even though it is actually after 9:30 as i type. My feet are bare and my stomach is full. I actually don't want to go home, back to the harsh realities of relationships, clients, work and more work. I do miss everyone back home and wish many of them could be with me out here. At the same time, I like the anonymity afforded by being in some totally history-free environments. With that said, I am getting lonely - it's that time of night I think. When the sun is almost totally down and the grayness of post-sunset will creep in on the landscape around me.

The last streaks of orange and pink reflect off the neighbours' windows seen through the sun-room as my laptop burns into my legs. Looking at the reflections across the room, I realized that I haven't watched more than 2 hours of television since I left Toronto. It feels nice. Not that I watch much anyways, but usually the news at some point or another. I feel pretty cut off all of a sudden.

I keep thinking about how different people out here are than in Toronto, and Ontario in general. They seem more friendly and expressive. Back home, the shells people wear are both concrete and fragile, and many people shelter themselves from ever having to be vulnerable, including myself.

Signing off, as I really should go and be social now.