The five-hour bus ride from London Gatwick airport to the Birmingham express terminal was extremely reassuring. Looking out the window and observing mere mortals simply walking across the street left me awestruck. This is no longer Canada, I thought. This is the U Fu*king K. Knowing that made all the difference.

I love traveling. But I loathe airplanes and everything associated with them. That includes being packed in like a can of sardines, forcing your legs to suffocate in the small amount of space underneath the seat in front of you (even worse if you’re taller than six feet), the unpredictable moments of turbulence that make your heart race a mile/minute, and the excruciating sound of a 3-year-old child weeping and kicking the seat behind you. I had a feeling that my flight was going to include all of those things and more.  

January 1st, 2021. My eyes were glued to the myriad volume of raindrops feverishly running down the windshield while situated in our parked vehicle, like tears rolling down a child’s pudgy cheeks from the stingingly poignant scent of raw onions being chopped up. We stepped outside the vehicle, stood upright, and looked both ways. Utter and complete desolation, reminiscent of a ghost town. Not a single soul drifted across my cramped vision. I thought to myself, what an astounding moment in time this is.

Many may look at this image and see an eccentric combination of leading lines that congregate along vertical and horizontal gravitational boundaries. Many may regard the presentation of multiple three-dimensional structures to be quite magnifying and others may contend the asymmetrical positioning to be quite offsetting.