The letters pressed onto the old broken glass bottle spell out Toronto. The glass is celadon green, translucent, and the sharp edges are now dull. We found it on one of our walks and it seemed emblematic. A broken bottle creates its own horizon - drained of its liquid perhaps for years it lies with no purpose? Until on a walk we find it and realize that somehow it resonates with the current body of our city.We were thirsty when we start out, me and Ron, and both of us had forgotten our water. But inside I thought ok, it's a short walk and we will be going through one of the city parks. There's surely going to be a working fountain.
It was one of those ususal Toronto days with a combination of heat and humidity. Before we went out we spent time writing story boards for our short pieces and began to find photographs. We are constantly challenged by time and so many other things. If you were looking at us from the outside you might wonder what exactly was happening! There are conversations that are unfinished, today a delicious watermelon at centre stage (finished), and peo
ple wandering in and out of the room, through our conversations.One of the ongoing conversations is how people ended up where they are. How things in their lives gradually eroded until, looking around, it seemed like there was no way out. We have created a society where we don't teach people how to deal with the daily stress in their lives, where people don't ask each other how they are in meaningful ways, and where people are ashamed if they can't cope on their own, independently. The reality is that we need each other in order to get through our days. We need a community, to help each other, to be able to depend on one another, and to show compassion. And as I write this in memory, I watch people walk by the homeless on the streets, while I hunker down on the curb and look up and wonder... when they are thirsty, who fills their glass?
