last night, i discovered a new kind of nuit blanche. a city made bright under the gleam of falling snow. they're mad here in montréal, you see. they like their all night art in the depth of winter. my own feelings on the matter alternated between grimacing behind my frost bitten armour, shaking my fists at the heavens/city planners at large, and finding myself utterly spellbound by the beauty of it all. it really depended on which way the wind was blowing.
i was on my own, and i rather liked it that way. free to meander and stay put and decide for myself. and really the greatness of this event lies in the fact that you are not alone. you have a community, you are in this together.
it was a good night. it was small, the areas familiar but their contents unknown and wanting to be discovered. the moment for me that will last was not elaborate. i sat at a big table, surrounded by strangers, gluing glittering painting and printing postcards by hand. the postcard project. reminding us what it is to choose our words, to share something more of ourselves, something that feels permanent.
these nights are important. what they say about art is important. simple in its approach, and like a fresh layer of snow, casting light on the darkest nights of winter.