So, my last post was all about how I live in little old Cranbrook where I live out my polar existence, at once decrying the smallness of my geographical location and rejoicing in that same smallness.
Last week, I was exiting the Rec Plex where my kids were having their swimming lessons and who walks by me -nonchalant as all getout - but Brent Carver. Just a Canadian Theatre icon, nbd. Now, I don't know the guy personally. I taught his niece, I go to church with his other niece. His sister is very nice. But our paths have never crossed. It was cool to see him. And it was cool to have an antidote for my existential fears that my writing is in vain because I just live in Cranbook and not some exciting metropolis . . .
It made me think a little differently. Little things like that can spur one on.
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