Oh, Vancouver
I’m fortunate to have friends that have access to one of the best views of city. The views are nothing short of breath taking, and pictures don’t contribute any justice to what this looks like in real life. From that vantage, this city is a gem. Cars look like toys I can flick; Georgia has traffic lights that pass as art; the alley behind Robson looks bigger than the busy street itself. Dense isn’t just an adjective from this perspective, it’s clearly a verb, something that is happening, active. English Bay is more than a harbour, it looks like a refuge. The North Shore Mountains and beyond are truly a fortress.
For a moment, as with any city you see from a distance, I forget the social gaps and economic disparities that co-exist in one of the most livable cities in the world - a contested and debatable rating (even today, as we slip to 3rd place, whatever that means). From the top, everything is beautiful. Viscerally, especially in the summer dusk, it’s perfect.
Increasingly, I both feel and know Vancouver is a place of contradiction, experimentation, and extremes. I know that this city is a beacon for many to learn more about metropolitan living, a case study for how a new city grows - for better or for worse. And yet, I can look down on this city that I call mine and it still bothers me that I can’t locate its heart nor it’s soul. I don’t think it should be too recognizable, but I wonder why it’s being so difficult for me to find. Maybe I’m looking in all the wrong places, or maybe it’s not even a place and something in its people.
Vancouver, I know have much to figure out about you. But for this brief moment, let me forget about that and to just say, despite your mystery, you’re still like that rare supermodel that doesn’t need photoshop.
