Porch times with little Mikey

*click on tiltle. he is in his underpants, but was a perfect gentleman :)

Queen Street West Business Association Interview!

*click on title :)

Queen West : Artery to my soul

I think it was the 80's but who knows..it may have been the 90's. So much is a blur. My first acid trips, my basement apartment at Portland and Adelaide. Memories of the 24 hour Future Bakery where one of the staff would always greet me warmly. I wondered if he sometimes worried about me being out alone at 2:00 a.m. - buying rye bread. He always charged me half price. There was a comfort in knowing that the bakery was humming all night and someone there who knew my name.

Sometimes, some of us would go to an all night booze can on Queen when it first was cool to be going west of Bathurst. There was no sign on the door, but I remember Terry Wilkins used to jam there along with other hipsters who arrived after Grossman's closed and played till dawn. Well it seemed like dawn anyhow. I've asked others about that venue from the 80's and no one can remember exactly where it was. Nostalgia can be dubious.

I went through my brief artsy phase (didn't everyone?) and set my wares up to sell outside the Bamboo Club and waited to see how long it would take to be asked to move along. Crudely done tie dye clothes and lucite plastic earrings...ah those large, ugly earrings of the 80's. Likely all landfill now. I recall the Satellites and Parachute Club playing at the Bamboo and the bartender there who had eyes that were like blue glass. He was a fixture for sure. Recently I was in a small country town east of Toronto having dinner at a local restaurant and there he was, running the place. He laughed when I nostalgically mentioned Queen West and he said: THAT was a long time ago.

There was hairdresser Clara, a queen of Queen West - with her inside information about bars and bands and her advice about love and style. You had to know where to find her whenever she moved locations. Scoring an appointment for a haircut with her was like winning a lottery.

The Poetry Sweatshop at the Rivoli. The room was always packed and the hosting twins were kings. There my girfriend ran into an old high school classmate and now they have been married forever, with kids ready for university and a family life filled with tranquility.

All roads lead me back to Queen West. In recent years I worked at the ultimate corner: Queen and Bathurst, running programs for the homeless and disenfranchised, drug users and ravers. Each year I rent out the Gladstone to bring talented artisans to a space that I honour as part of my past, vicarious appreciation for their youth and their talent.

Queen West is a moving sidewalk recounting adventure at each corner. For some it is a destination. In my heart it will always be an era.

gg

a tear in my beer...

I moved back to Toronto after a 10 year absence and lived on Camden street for a year.

It was a big year, growth challenges and falling in love with this city.

I used to spend a lot of time at the (no longer in the same location and therefore not the same place) tequila bookworm where they would let you read magazines and they had great food and even better music.

I had fallen hard for a boy who ended up being a boy who fucked and ran. I had just come back from a disastrous date at the AGO and was in this café. The woman at the table next to me was also drowning her sorrows, as she had just ended a three year relationship.

In what was a darkly comic moment, I was on the phone to a friend sniffling about the boy, and she was pouring her heart out to one of her friends. The staff generally were in charge of the music and they took it upon themselves to play john Denver. The woman went up to them and got them to change the music. It was funny.

I fell in love with this city really hard that day.

aa

At home...

Hail to the Queen!
You lovely old Queen, you and your:
• Fabulous chapattis from Gordon W.’s chapatti cart
• May Day parade that ended up with the Peace Flame extinguished by a chapatti
• Bamboo and painting its walls with Runt
• Donut shop on the corner of John at 6 in the morning on the way home
from the Zone
• Coolest stuff ever found at Active Surplus
• Wonderful late nights at the Cameron, the Shoe, the Riv, the Bull, the Bev.
• Duke’s with the best bike service always and especially after my
locked bike was stolen across the street from me sitting on the Riv
patio
• Bountiful Bacchus Rotis
• Hefty NOW magazine drops
• Buttski’s Munchies, much further down and farther back in time
• Art. Beads. Beer. Bikes. Books. Bread. Fabric. Feasts. Music. Paper.
Performance. Poetry. Yearning.
• Love and Memories.
Long live the Queen!
Love, Catherine

*Catherine attached two paintings that she created.... you see them above.
At the left, Shelley on the Rooftop (at The Cameron) and on the right, Molly at Home (at The Cameron). Visit her website: www.orfald.ca ... my favorite piece is breakthrough. It reminds me of driving home from my Nannys house at Christmas time. If the weather was bad, we would go "the old way", meaning we would take a route through small towns rather than risk the open highway.I remember it... clean.. like that piece.

Wanna dance?

As part of this years festival, we have a contingent from Newfoundland producing a show at The Factory Theatre... if you are trying to fill your dance card at this years festival, add this one... here are the nuts and bolts:

Don’t miss Joel Thomas Hynes in a compelling performance of Say Nothing Saw Wood, a morally complex tale of murder and redemption. Fresh out of prison, thirty-year-old Jude Traynor spins a gothic tale of a brutal murder he committed at the age of seventeen. He’s now making his way back to his hometown to come to terms with the life he’s taken, the lives he’s altered and hopefully to extend a hand to the troubled youth he once was.

Say Nothing Saw Wood originally premiered in St. John’s, NL to sold-out audiences in 2007. Say Nothing Saw Wood is a one-man play inspired by a real-life murder that occurred on the Southern Shore of Newfoundland and Labrador in the early seventies. Playing in Toronto as part of the SummerWorks Theatre Festival at the Factory Theatre Mainstage:

Directed by Lois Brown
Presented by resource centre for the arts theatre company
Featuring: Joel Thomas Hynes

Fresh out of prison, Jude Traynor spins a gothic tale of a brutal murder he committed at the age of seventeen. He’s now making his way back to his hometown to come to terms with the life he’s taken, the lives he’s altered and hopefully to extend a hand to the troubled youth he once was.

Patron Warning: Mature Language & adult themes
Running time: 75 mins.

Date	Time
August 7th	6:00pm
August 9th	12:00pm
August 10th	10:00pm
August 13th	8:00pm
August 14th	10:00pm
August 16th	4:00pm

Venue
Factory Theatre Studio venues and guides information

For ticket information and show times call the Factory Theatre Box Office at 416-504-9971.

Joel Thomas Hynes is the award winning author of the novels Down to the Dirt and Right Away Monday, both available through HarperCollins Publishers. He co-wrote the celebrated stage play The Devil You Don’t Know and his most recent play Say Nothing Saw Wood, won the NL Arts and Letters Award for Best Dramatic Script. In 2008 Hynes was presented with the Lawrence Jackson Creative Writing Award and was also named the Newfoundland and Labrador Art’s Council’s Artist of the Year. Also an actor, Hynes has performed numerous leading roles for stage, film and television. He was a contributing writer and played a leading role in the CBC’s Gemini Award winning series Hatching, Matching and Dispatching, appeared in the Movie Network’s Re-Genesis, the CBC’s Ashore, performed the lead role in the film adaptation of his novel Down to the Dirt, and was featured in the upcoming film Crackie. Hynes is currently at work on a new novel and a new screenplay.

Lois Brown is a seventh generation Newfoundlander. She works in dance, theatre, and film. She was awarded Arts Achievement award by the Newfoundland and Labrador Arts Council for her work in 2004, and short-listed for The Sminovitch Prize. She awarded the Victor Martyn Lynch Staunton Award for outstanding achievement in theatre by the Canada Council in 2005. She lives in St. John’s with her daughter Olivia.

you've got new friends....

Dear Queen Street West,

I miss you.

Remember when I used to skip school and come into town and we would have lunch together. I would usually spend all day with you, sometimes my friend Megan would bring me and show me all your little secrets.

We grew up together. You showed me to the vintage shop where I bought my first pair of bootcut courdory pants, across from Java, where I would get a cup of possibly the worst coffee ever and sit for a couple hours, the pants were blue, the coffee was grey, both were fantastically ugly and perfect with a cigarette. I was 15.

Then there was that time, when I was 17, I brought my fake ID and got my first tattoo, ala Flea from the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, a circle design on the left side of my chest, you branded me then, I felt like you really approved of this.

We used to get real drunk too, and had so many parties. it was a blast.

Its funny, cause I know we don’t live far from each other, I’m on King, in Parkdale, and you, Queen Street, are just around the corner, but something is different.

I remember something my brother told me a long time ago, that when you get older you just don’t have the time to hang out anymore, and everyone gets busy doing other things.

I see you’re still at it being the crazy social butterfly that you are, making new friends from all over.

I know we meet up every now and then, but it seems all business, I hang my art, you like it, you show it to all your new friends,

But something has definitely changed. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all that you do for me, maybe I’m just being silly, but

We’re not the same.

I know you got real busy with all the new clubs, and all you’re new friends from Mississauga make it difficult for us to really connect.

And I see you’ve upgraded your available accommodations to condos and some pretty cool slick lofts, which are nice, I guess, maybe I just liked the way things were. You’re just too busy.

Remember when my band used to play, and all the kids would come out and get down?

What’s happened, what has changed?

Maybe it’s just me.

I know the bands still play, and the kids still get drunk, and the shops are still cool….

Maybe we’ve just run our course, out grown each other, you’re still striving for that new sense of cool, whereas I have become content with myself and who I am. I don’t hold that against you though, for as long as I can remember, that’s who you are, you’re like Peter Pan, and I hope you never grow old.

So I guess what I’m saying is thanks for the memories, the good times, and helping to form who I am today, you are my Toronto, you lead me to find many of my loves, and cradled a lot of my losses.

Maybe, for old times, we can meet up this weekend, if the weather is nice, and we can grab a pint on a patio and reconnect a little?

Gregory Serpanchy
www.gregoryserpanchy.com

*Click on the link to see Simon and Garfunkel prepare to sing a special song... which is first interrupted by Paul's friend... we'll call him "Chuck", or "Mississauga"

take Ronzigs tour... a video love letter

I received this link from Ronzig, a former homeless man and current digital photo artist. It is awesome to see him navigate around this area, and his comments raise many questions about the state of our community. I don't want to say much more... click on the title and he will explain how he feels in his love letter.

Thanks Ron!


also check out:
Ronzigs Portfolio

worth a detour... a letter from a king to a queen...

Queen Street West….

When I skipped school; two hour bus ride from Orillia. 14 years old. Hair down to my waist. Pimples on my chin. Dressed like a mod. Black turtle neck. Red Kilt. Knee Socks and Docs. It was 1990. There were punks everywhere. Egg white filled mohawks. Studded Bracelet’s. Dirty clothes. And there was Much Music; the temple of my adolescent dreams. Erica Ehm introducing Depeche Mode videos; learning to dance to Electric Circus. Queen Street was scary, massive, full of fear and excitement. I felt that this was the nexus of the universe. Everything happened here.

Now I live here; but on King. The Queen’s less exciting and somewhat conservative husband.

But, I always walk up to Queen. To experience that feeling. The rushy high of walking down Queen WEST WEST. Where there is an uneasy convergence of yuppies, dogs, addicts, artists, 905ers shopping, skateboarders, squirrels, the mentally ill, sex workers, pigeons, rollerbladers and rock stars all trying to maneuver around each-other. Not stare, not piss each-other off, draw attention, not draw attention. Flirting, screaming, eating running, texting, watching, drinking out of coffee cups or paper bags.

For nine years I have lived here; watching the Gentrification Freight Train push down the street from University to Bathurst. Last night I had a drink at a new restaurant and remembered the massive gallery that used to be there. I walked home and remembered when I couldn’t walk home at all five years ago. Five years ago, Johns would pull over asking for my ‘service’. No more. Now there are hipsters making out. Stinking drunk after their debauchery on Ossington. 905ers flagging cabs after a night of posing at the what they believe is the new sickest bar.

But it’s true. Everything has happened here. On Queen I met the love of my life who hid his horrible coke addiction from me for months. I cried my way home on Queen trying to break my addiction to him. I had my most successful solo show. I had wild and unpredictable jobs in restaurants and bars that catered to Baby Brokers, Mafia, Escorts and Rosedale Glitterati tables away from each-other. I solidified most of my closest friendships at art openings and industry parties in lofts and back alleys. I became desensitized to human suffering; and over-sensitized to my surroundings.

This morning, with groceries, I walked home down Queen, as I always do. Because it’s more exciting, more fascinating, more dangerous. And even though I could quietly walk down King; I never do. I walk an extra block north; so I can walk down Queen; because anything could happen and it everything always does.

love,

a secret admirer

you're the one...

Hey Queen St,

I wanted to tell you this in person, but you know how I get face-to-face. I really wanted to get this right, you mean so much to me and I need you to know. You first caught my eye when I was only 14. The way we danced - I never felt so free. I was in love. You were the coolest. You are the coolest. I looked up to you. I still look up to you. I wanted to be with you and now I am.

You changed a lot over the years and some people don’t like you for that. I understand though. I always understood you. And it’s not all bad. I know you’re growing up. You can’t be young forever. Sometimes you need to change, and with good will always come the bad, you can’t please everyone.

Maybe that’s it, maybe that’s why people are getting mad at you Queen. They think you are trying get everyone to love you. What’s so wrong with that? Who wouldn’t want to be loved by everyone? They don’t get it. They’ll never get it. You have so much to offer. You just want everyone to see. That’s why I love you. You’re not afraid to take a chance. You have business tattooed on your left arm and fuck the corporation on your right. You’re not a paradox Queen St., you’re a perfect balance.

I wanted to write you this today so it was clear how I felt. I know you’re getting a hard time with all this 905 and hipster bullshit. You’re so strong to live through that. So strong. You don’t let them walk all over you. When people try to cross you you grab their fixie wheels in your tracks and fuck them up. That’s why I love you.

I will always love you Queen St. One day we will part but you will always have a place in my heart. You’re the one who brought me here. You’re the one who set me free.

Love always,

Michaud Garneau

* Michaud invites you to click on the title for tips to practice safety first. The forum is very interesting, as well.

Meanwhile, Michauds words have inspired me to link to a video that speaks to "the one". I vote it as one of the top ten funniest music videos of the 90's, if not only for the sheer volume of pelvis pumping, the uncomfortable rap insertion or the fact that the set is intergallactic and they are wearing the same outfit in different colors. It is also a karaoke video. Please sing along.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WEQdFTXIwA

from that girl...

Dear Queen West,

I don't really mean to address you, I mean, you really had nothing to do with the whole thing, but things have changed and my memories, regardless of their vividness, have been transfered to you. I hope you always remind me of the time in my life where I was vulnerable and naive enough to be in love.

Alas, walking hand in hand I never stopped to inhale the aura of this street. The busy trendiness, people wanting to fit in, to stand out.

Now, walking down this street I notice everything, the way this street speaks to people wanting to be a part of it all. The difference. People who want to be different.

I become a part of this street when I come here now. I gallavant like I own a small part of it. As though my memories have been planted at all those special spots, and they've sprouted little parts of me, of That Girl, and are waiting to bloom.

When I come here I can feel it. It's happening. I can't wait to hold it. To show it off.

I become Queen West, the very Aura of it, and I can still feel him. It reminds me of who I want to be. Who I am.

I remember when we walked hand in hand.

Oh, I was so in love.

-F

*click on title to see Marlo Thomas in her glee

It's not you, it's me...

Queen West between University and Spadina

C\O Dana Puddicombe

Toronto ON

Dear Queen,

We were both coming of age back then, and it wasn't going well for either of us. Now you're all grown up and polished and the indie kids hate you, and I'm a scruffy unemployable malcontent with bad skin and pretty eyes. But I remember when you were a dirty playground with endless electronics shops. Devices that i didn't understand but loved to touch. Toys! broken down and atomized, their component parts naked in my sweaty hands. I remember when I got my first magnet boner. Active Surplus. How i coveted you. How I wanted to live in a warehouse of everything.

But alas, my Queen, it wasn't meant to be. You became a fashion paradise. And I become a conservative dresser. See you in my dreams.

-D

*click on the title for a sexy video.

Ainsley's Queen Street Top 3

Ainsley's Queen Street Top 3:


1) The Cameron House bartender is amazing. He made this Amaretto Sour to die for and apparently it is award winning. Can't remember his name though.

2) One time we saw a sort of police bust on the street. An officer who was outside his car was trying to stop a driver of a car and ended up getting sort of pulled along with the car. The driver sped off.

3) As for Java hut. Best deals EVER. We used to go every Wednesday for their wings and jug of beer. I saw Obama's election win at Java Hut. Just a great place with poor wait staff.

Love,
Ainsley

*click on the title if you want two dudes from Indiana to show you how to make an Ameretto Sour. The clip is from thier Public Access Television show, circa 1991.

bikes and cats and ants... summer

I like Queen West, I like to bike on my street. I always eat on my street, lots of people know my name on my street. There are lots of fun stuffs on Queen West. Michaud that lives with me lets me have a cat and stay up late. I like to go outside and play on Queen Street West but need to watch out for the streetcar and taxis. Some people say it is danger on Queen West but Michaud says that is just cause they are mad they dont live on Queen West. I like to bike to the store on Queen West they have every flavour of Crush Soda. Grape Crush Soda is my favourite drink in the summer time. I take it to the park and share it with the ants on Queen West. I work on Queen West and like to see all the pretty girls while I walk to work. Some times I bike to work but I am worried to leave it outside on Queen West in case Igor is back.

love,

Trevor

*Trevor lives in a loft on QSW with his buddy Michaud. They are currently building walls as the open layout has proven to repel ladies from sleeping over. Michaud has a bunkbed and Trevor owns a collection of interesting hats that go well with Vodka and Orangina. Click on the title to find out more about why Trevor fears Igor.

to a boozecan... and a freckle-faced girl...

"Let's finish up here and go somewhere else."
"But it's 2:00..."
"I know a place..."
She took my hand, and we headed out. She led, I followed. I was more naive than I thought I was.
*knock knock*
"Is this even an establishment? You sure it's open?"
"It's open, trust me."
"But..."
"Trust me."
A few moments pass, the door opens. It's possible a password was
uttered, but I couldn't be sure. Our hands were still clasped, we entered.
This felt very film noir.
We had a booth to ourselves, the room was suspect, but intimate.
Drinks were brought to us, but I don't recall money exchanging hands.
People were in the washrooms for longer than they should've been.
We drank and chatted, I loved her freckles.
I don't recall what time we left, but it was still dark outside.
She was still holding my hand - I'm not sure if there was a point in the evening when she wasn't.
To this day, I couldn't tell you where we were that night. My head was elsewhere.

Thank you, QSW.

love,
anonymous.

a green dress meets a plaid shirt...

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"I'm already dancing..." she said.

And so it began. It was Halloween 1983 at the Cameron House on Queen. My dad was a shy sort of guy, not dressed up for the occasion, but my mother remembers him being dressed as a hockey player. She says it was because he wore a plaid shirt, and all the boys in South Porcupine wore plaid shirts after hockey games. She was wearing an emerald 30's cocktail dress and was going as a starlet. Aaron and Mary-Theresa, they courted between my mother's guitar lessons, poetry readings, and dance classes. At the time Mary-Theresa was seeing a wealthy, good looking fellow, and had little trouble choosing between the men. My father was seeing someone who was a complete nut, so he went from the bad kind of nut to the good kind. Shortly after, my mother went to Europe because she "knew that if [she] didn't do it now, [she] would never do it," and my father waited for her return. At which time he impregnated her with their love child, Hilary, my brother. My mother is from an Irish Catholic family and was married before she started showing, in a small ceremony in her hometown outside of Timmins, South Porcupine. It is a love story that began on Queen West, as so many have started there.

For Dana. From Zoe.

*clicking on the title will lead you to a music video from 80's super-duo Renee and Renato that I feel echos this story for the following reasons:
1) theme of waiting for love
2) very 1983
3) they appear to be at a masquerade ball... or a high school drama club set for Romeo and Juliet
4) Renato is wearing a shirt and Renee is wearing a dress

from an old roomie...

Dear Studio 129 --

Do you remember the wonderful times we had together?
I do.

I remember hot summers spent in your shadowy coolness, and our guerrilla garden just out back in the alley.

I remember your high ceilings -- I LOVE that we got to have an 18ft Xmas tree one year,

and that our friend hung her silks aerial silks from your ceiling and rehearsed in your space. Living with you was like living a childs life all over again -- we had enough space to play hackey-sack while also recording an entire hard drive's worth of music.

I remember Fringe performers pitching their tents during the fringe one year - an indoor tent city, and how you accidentally locked me out in my underwear one morning... luckily the neighbours were as Bohemian as we were and didn't bat an eye when I knocked on their window and asked to be let in through the backdoor of your adjoining hallway.

I remember that living with you was rough at times, Studio 129. We got really sick one winter; living in a space that is just one step up from outdoors can lead to illness. We each took turns playing nurse while the other recovered... and you looked on.

But the joy of living with you casts a bright light onto any of the dark times.

I remember such moments of peace, comfort, connection, friendship, and satisfaction: the sounds of birds in the field behind us; the warmth of the heater on the coldest of days; late night/early morning tea with room-mates and friends, and countless artistic and creative endeavours.

I'l always remember you, Studio 129, 48 Abell Street.
Even if we weren't meant to be together forever.

Love,
Carmen

* click on the title to find out more about what old roomie 48 Abell is up to now...

A chat in the summer sun with the lovely Gail Hawkins!

Gail Hawkins opened Niche Coffee at 626 Queen Street West about 2 years ago, and sat with me on a sunny afternoon to talk about her experiences as a business owner and resident of Queen Street West.

Previously occupied by the Vienna Home Bakery, which closed it's doors in 2006 after 22 years of providing a meeting place and yummy baked goods for the neighborhood, the residents had mixed feelings about a new coffee shop taking over the space. Many were happy to see an independent owner take over the space (as opposed to a Starbucks, which created much debate in the neighborhood with the openings at Queen and Dovercourt and later, Queen and Bathurst). Some were opposed just because they had such strong love and nostalgia for the Vienna Home Bakery.

"I don't care how good it is by any metric. It can never replace the Vienna Cafe, only occupy the space."

-a response to a glowing review of Niche Cafe on blogTO

Sitting with Gail at Niche, she told me the story of a lady who vowed never to step through the door, as she was proposed to by her husband in what was the front booth of the Vienna Home Bakery. The lady eventually came in, and struck up a conversation with the barista! A story like this is so interesting to me, as it exemplifies the close knit pride in the neighborhood. Residents are affected by business closures, and have a personal connection to the shops. Change is inevitable... businesses don't last forever, sometimes by choice ( an interview with Vienna Home Bakery owner Gay Couillard sheds light on her decision to hang up her rolling pin: www.thestar.com/article/154552). But the response from this lady shows the personal connection residents feel on a strip that has been referred to by many as a "mini-mall". It isn't a mini-mall. People live here and care about the businesses that are staples in their daily lives. In years to come, Gail hopes that Niche will become a staple for current residents.

The atmosphere of Niche is quite chill, they have a super sweet back patio and the coffee was yummy, yummy. Gail knew many of the customers by name, and there seemed to be a stream of "regulars". Speaking with Gail about the neighborhood, she explained that she knew many of the other business owners and their employees and spoke of a sense of support in the area for each others businesses. When speaking about crime in the area, Gail expressed that there are issues with the crossroads at Queen and Bathurst, but that is part of the makeup of the community and the police are accessible and co-operative if problems arise. The pulse of the street and the unpredictability of an area which attracts so many different people were positive attributes of the locale, and Gail, a former east-ender who now also resides in the neighborhood, feels right at home!

Gail loves shopping at all the specialty shops and her favorite local haunt is Trinity Bellwoods Park, where she walks her dogs. Gail would like to see a nice cheese shop spring up in the 'hood. And she may have gotten her wish: The Leslieville Cheese Market recently opened at 541 Queen Street West!

Thanks for the coffee and the chat, Gail!

An interesting article from The Varsity last year...

from an ex-patriate...

To my dearest Queen and Spadina,

It has been a little over a year now since we were together. I hope you don’t resent me for leaving you; it hurts me more having to move back to Etobicoke. So much more than just an intersection, you had become a way of life for me. With your shops, restaurants and cafes you had spoiled me with your riches. You were never dull and your personality shined with many colours of beautiful women, super funny (but mental) street people and friendly faces around every corner.

You have defiantly changed my life and I couldn’t imagine the person I would have been without you. Every day I dream of the moment of leaving the suburbs and running back to the place I know is my home. I miss you Queen and Spadina and I hope you never forget the time we cherished together.

Love,

Nick

*Nick lived at Queen and Spadina while working in the service industry. After deciding to go to back to school to pursue an education in Advertising, he couldn't afford to live in his neighbourhood and pay his tuition. He chose his life goal over his lifestyle and moved back to the 'burbs. He finished his program and just got an internship. I think he and QSW may reunite in the near future :)

Click on the title to see a clip I have chosen from "Neighbours", featuring a young Kylie Monogue, to dramatize the moment. I think the guy in the first scene may be ( or closely resembles) the coach from Australia's Next Top Model. Just sayin'.

Dear Queen Street West...

my name is dana.

this summer, The Summerworks Theatre Festival has introduced a new initiative: designing walking tours that will lead theatregoers around the community of the festival, which is our beloved queen street west. i am not a historian. i have trouble climbing family trees. i like stories and i want to collect them and share them.

if you have a story about this neighbourhood, write a love letter. if you have a favorite restaurant in the neighbourhood, write a love letter. if you have an awesome neighbour who lends you sugar and never complains when you play rock band at 4 am, write a love letter. if you met the love of your life at the bovine sex club, write a love letter. if you got dumped at the bovine sex club, write a ... letter. basically, if you have a story, please share it.

it's nice to get a love letter.

love,

dana