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 years of Toronto living and working than the past ten years on the West Coast had created. 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?