In September of 2018, I accomplished what seemed like an insurmountable goal: to gain a byline in a major publication. You can read my piece At a crossroads on Canadian Geographic’s site here.
Like many Winnipeggers, the majority of my adult life as a commuter has consisted of long waits at the bus stop, rushed walks early in the morning, and bike rides along the river into and out of downtown at any hour. Of the countless times I’ve used active transport to move around our city, the moments which stand out most are ones where I’ve felt a part of something bigger
*Disclaimer: I am by no means an expert in community accessibility or urban design. These are simply topics that I find myself thinking about a lot, and well, writing is my method of organizing thoughts and hearing varying opinions. Growing up, I was a sidewalk rider. We lived on the corner of a pretty busy street in a Winnipeg suburban neighbourhood. With a regular bus route and easy access to
Genoa (Genova) is a vast, yet quaint, port city in northern Italy. As the capital of Liguria, the Metropolitan City of Genoa boasts a resident population of 856,000. Tucked away on the Gulf of Genoa in the Ligurian Sea, the New York Times noted that “Genoa isn’t Rome or Florence. That’s part of its charm”. The charm of this city lies in its indifference to the changes of the surrounding world.
Home isn’t a stationary place, but rather a connection with oneself that travels where they do. It’s that feeling of bliss present wherever you are, whether it be in the center of a bustling of a city, or in the middle of a field under blue skies. I’ve struggled to find a term that best describes the aching completeness we feel while moving through a city, whether it be my