Latest / Shane Hewitt and The Nightshift
A Love Letter to the City I Don't Understand
A two and a half hour commute is the kind of thing that should end a relationship with a city before it starts. Instead, it's the opening line of an actual love letter to Toronto, the honest, complicated kind that admits the traffic is ridiculous and means every other word anyway.
A rooftop patio on Queen Street West full of old friends hugging like family, a suburb where kids play in the street and you forget you're even in a big city, a subway and GO Train combo that somehow worked flawlessly on the one weekend it had every excuse not to. Every piece of evidence points somewhere different…
The skinny
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