As part of the audience, I walked through three theatrical installations. In between each one, we’d gather in a room where we could have refreshments and divvy up into our groups again.
I won’t say much about the actual installations because I don’t have the energy tonight to describe it all to you. There were themes of sexuality, feminism, and identity.
Later I walked. Around the corner from Waterfront Theatre was a sign:
Cats Social House
test kitchen - restaurant - bar - socialize
I imagined the place full of felines—cats stealthily pawing their way in through the door, curling themselves up onto the bar stools, mewing at the bartender for milk. Some of them wore hats. Some sobbed their horror stories of being declawed or spayed or tortured by small children.
I didn’t go in.
Instead, I went into a small shop called Crafthouse. Inside were paper mache cats a couple inches tall, blown glass birds, flowered bangles, framed sheep with faces made from crossword puzzle answer keys, and other various treasures. When I reached for the door to leave, I noticed the handle was a First Nations cat’s head. Cats are everywhere.
Outside a group of mallard ducks waddled around sort of aimlessly amongst fallen leaves on cobblestone. I admired their amazing webbed feet.
I was woman and alone, so I felt it was best for me to head home before dark. The bus passed by a corner building called Covenant House. The sign showed a picture of a hand and dove which reminded me of help and hope. A purple flower came to mind and I thought of where I’ve been in life’s journey and I was grateful to simply be.