Moving to Vancouver. I'd reached a point in my life where it made no sense at all to stay in Ontario. I hated the humid summers, I hated the industrial grid of SW Ontario. I had finished a job that I didn't really like anyway, and at 30, I had no idea what, if anything, I wanted to do, in that town where I was born and grew up. And yet, there was nothing calling me Vancouver, nothing specific. Symbolically I suppose I was moving from the tight center to somewhere on the periphery. Was I not also moving from stasis, from a place and way of being that was essentially closed, circumscribed, circumferenced, to a place that was open, and moving, and alive in a somehow freer way that I had known?

Don't know if this is relevant, but there you go.