The folks at the Mayworks Festival of Working People and the Arts are some of the sweetest people I've had the recent pleasure of meeting. Considering the festival's mandate to support arts, inclusion, diversity, and social justice, it's no wonder we get along. (Also, it doesn't hurt that they know how to put on a unique closing party!)
Hanging out with alumni of How to Talk to People About Things!
HTTTPAT is one of those "things to do in Toronto" I’ve been hearing about for years, a communications course led by Misha Glouberman of Trampoline Hall/The Chairs Are Where the People Go fame. Considering the most proactive and engaged people I know in this city have gone through the program and still ring its praises (I bumped into four highly intelligent acquaintances/friends this evening), I’d say that’s all the recommendation anyone would need to take it.
Pssst, the next course starts in January and, because of its popularity, will likely sell out. (Heck, I’d join myself if my schedule could commit to all six sessions.) If you want in, head to mishaglouberman.com and sign up!
Hey, friends and lovers!
Super excited to be at PODCAMP TORONTO at Ryerson this Sunday, discussing the glories of freelancing life (and the concurrent barftastic insecurities), featuring my co-panellists:
Moderated by Lily J. Mills.
PSST: IT'S FREE!
Why freelance? How does one go about it? What’s the end game? Is there an end game?
PodCamp Toronto Session Lead Lily Mills (not a freelancer) will try to find out what makes her freelancer friends and acquaintances tick and thrive in this panel discussion with four women who are fighting this good (and in Lily’s opinion, very scary) fight.
This won’t be a be-all and end-all guide; honestly, we may end up with more questions than answers.
The Spoke Club's official Nuit Blanche offering took place in the alleyway beside the venue, with lightsweetcrude's ThatWas, "a dynamic projection & sound installation that will explore the concept of nostalgia through liquid projections, abstract shapes, images, & sound".
Indoors, resident artist Danilo Ursini and two guest artists participated in a live art installation, creating three simultaneous -- and very unique -- portraits of a single model.
From Waterfront Toronto:
"On May 28-29, 2015, the Dutch Consulate in Toronto and Waterfront Toronto hosted the Canadian – Netherlands Resilient Cities Summit: Planning and Design in a Changing Climate.
The Summit was a unique opportunity for Canadian and Dutch experts to discuss real issues and challenges for mitigation and adapting to a changing climate, and to work on joint solutions. Key themes of the Summit included fostering safe and clean environments, urban flood protection, the management and re-use of soil and sediment, how to achieve more community resilience, and the importance of a regional resilience strategy. Increasingly, we realize the need to find integrated solutions to complex infrastructure systems and to design for smart and resilient cities."
Though you've changed greatly in the last few years, you're still my good ol' stubborn mama, and I love ya, woman.
I thank you for not only shooting me out into this crazy world but also for being a trailblazing lady who was fiercely independent in an era when few women were, ran her own business in a new country with only a primary school education, fought for her personal rights and never, never took any bullshit, made unrivaled meatball curries/aloo gobi/parathas, grotesquely danced in her underwear in the middle of the night, and made the lewdest jokes you'd never want to hear from your mama's mouth. So in honour of your present and past self, Happy Mother's Day, Ma; I thank you for this and giving me the foundation I needed to morph into the me I am today.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, ALL.
I gave the man a whack of U.S. dollar bills. As in most countries that accept American currency, I was expecting a quick exchange, a flip through the stack of 20, a swift writing of a receipt, and bam, I’d be free to explore. But instead came an examination that seemed more thorough than my last dental appointment, and with the particular anxiety that comes with that.
There were two other Peruvians hovering over him, silently supervising, as the man held each bill up in the air, flipped it around, eyed every corner, and gently placed it back down on the counter as if it was the Queen’s specially designed Burmese ruby tiara.
This took a while. And as I was about ready to nod off, the man suddenly broke his silence. “Hay un otro?” he asked, pointing to my wallet. Now, I don’t know much about counterfeit money, but this particular twenty looked legit to me and so I tried to question his decision as best I could in my flaw-filled Spanish. However, I quickly learned that my North American opinion had no sway here, as the minuscule tear, right below the second “T” at the bottom of the bill, had the final say. (You can see for yourself, if you squint ever so slightly.)
What I didn’t know is that I am in U.S. Counterfeit Dollar Ground Zero. The Secret Service, in fact, has named Peru the top producer of counterfeit American currency, a business touted as more profitable than cocaine in some reports. And apparently, they’re really good at it, at first glance. So far, the counterfeit bills are made with a paper that seems legit, but deteriorates easily when exposed to water, which may explain why my precious bill, with its ever-so-tiny flaw, was equivalent to a box of nail clippings. There was no reason for me to question further. This was in the hands of a country that knows how much power (or lack of) the currency holds.
$20 poorer than before (at least here), my budget for the week is slightly mangled. Guess I’ll have an ice cream cone for dinner.
I left my home a good 24 hours and four flights ago, and I’ve finally landed in Iquitos, the largest city in the world not accessible by road. This, combined with the fact that it’s warm year-round means that there are more motorcycles and barely any cars. And though hip, urban kids may approve, the constant rumbling of the engines catapults it to the level of The Noisiest City not accessible by road.
Despite this, I love the colours, I love the action, and maybe after I catch up on some sleep, I look forward to exploring what seems like a magical (yet cacophonous) place.
Despite front-line healthcare being so critical, it seems we go on with our daily lives until we're the ones in need of it. And that's when we complain. Hard. In these tech-savvy days, why is it so hard to find an appropriate doctor or support system? Why such long wait times? And what's with all this paperwork, anyway?
Luckily, before my heart descended into the hopeless health care canyon, my faith was bolstered by this weekend's instalment of Hacking Health, an annual gathering that brings these issues to the forefront. Here, teams of energized health experts, developers, and designers pitch ideas inspired by technology, aiming to jolt the industry and instil hope for more efficient, tailored health care. Ideas this year included a system to speed up wait times in clinics, sharable data applications for personal health and fitness profiles, and a wristband to monitor cigarette drags for wannabe quitters.
If you have an idea that will shake up the system and need help on how to bring your vision to fruition, contact the supportive folks at Hacking Health for some guidance. Perhaps we'll be seeing your face up on that stage next year, too?
I've been the Drake's official photographer for almost four years now, and I assure you there's never been a dull moment swirling around the Hotel's West Queen West digs. Today is no different with Drake One Fifty's official launch, a slick new restaurant/bar nestled in the Financial District, sure to pump some serious spice into its new 'hood.
I don't know about you, but downtown business lunches will never, ever be the same.
Drake One Fifty, 150 York Street.