Here goes: I love my life. I wouldn't change a single thing about it, 'cause all of those scars and bruises - both metaphorical and true - are either stories worth telling or lessons worth learning.
I've travelled. I've lived. I've loved. I've learned. I've fallen. I've been picked up and I've picked myself up. I know the therapeutic effects of both a belly laugh and a good sob.
I'm here in Toronto because a change was needed, and, man!, what a change was wrought. I love this beautiful, flawed, artistic town. It's got it going on. The move here changed everything for me, most particularly in my career, which is an artistically-based one. I've had more work and more work connections in the past two and a half years of Toronto living and working than the previous ten years on the West Coast had provided. Couldn't be happier with that aspect.
As for love/love-life/sex/etc., and all of its ... [why do I want to say "tentacles"? hmmm... must look at that] ins-and-outs, ups-and-downs? Well, I'm here, aren't I?