After being rejected by two guys and then seeing me approaching, he said in a voice that was both inviting and reproachful, “Hey man, don’t be like those guys, why dontcha buy one?” I shook my head, and this brought out his bitterness, “ You’re not in a hurry, man, you’re not doing anything, I can see that!”
He was right, but it still felt like an insult, like it was intended to be an insult, and as I sat down to have a tea on front of the Common, I was now acutely aware that I was no different than any of the other drifters who composed the street at this hour.
A young homeless man with a big, spacey grin on his face and a huge backpack slung over his shoulders came down the sidewalk. Everything made him happy, and when he saw my tea he beamed as if he had just seen a mystical object. I thought he might reach down and take it, but a display bicycle in front of Curbside Cycle caught his eye. Fashionable, with a big, wooden delivery container at the front, it was just sitting there, one of those art objects that got people in off the street to talk to the engaging staff.
The homeless guy just got on this bike, and silently, practically invisibly, turned into traffic and vanished into the city. It was astonishing, this, like something imagined rather than seen. Curious to see how the world would unfold without intervention, I did nothing. Nobody did anything, until one of the employees happened out of the store, noticed the missing bike and had events explained to him by a preoccupied deliveryman, who pointed down the street.
As if created for just such an occasion, two young men rocketed out onto the street from the store and sprinted off after the missing bike. They were built for this. Not for violence or displays of virility, but because their native disposition was to act, to confidently not be a bystander. A pretty girl came out from the store and watched after them, standing on a concrete city planter as if a pedestal and staring off into the horizon after her knights. And there was something beautiful and heartbreaking in this, and in their return five minutes later with the purloined bike, and once again the winners having won, the loser having lost.
It always seemed a little bit like New Year’s Eve to me. I’d feel all sorts of pressure to have a great time, make fancy plans, and then at the end of it all, feel as if I’d been at the wrong place all night, and then bitter and depleted, would end up walking home.
The sheer volume of people who attend Nuit Blanche disassembles whatever plans I had, and inevitably I’d spend most of my time texting lost friends.
Yr @ Dufferin Grove??
U said Dundas, did’t u??
The commissioned works that have the most promise always have endless, Disneyesque lineups that stretch 90 minutes into the future and the ambient art that serves as the connective tissue between the major installations has a souvenir stand feeling to it. In short, it gives me the sense that I just participated in some weird variation of spring break.
And so this year Rachelle and I felt little remorse about skipping the event. Instead, I participated via social media, opening up my Twitter feed to all the glory that was Nuit Blanche:
E-gene
Get ready for a stupid flood of poor-lit photos of unknown subject matter tonight on Twitter and Instagram. #sbnb
MryW
“Let the art speak for itself” — a girl after overhearing my bf’s interpretation of an exhibit. #sbnb
ESTRONG
Man beside me carrying bananas. Art or groceries? #sbnb
I’m at a high five competition … Haha #sbnb
Ion
I am supposed to be looking with a critical eye at #sbnb pieces, but really I am just drink drank drunk.
Alfagrrl
It’s the little things during #sbnb that make me smile. Nothing new here but makes me love my city!#sbnb
Petalpusher
Green frogs light up. Sometimes less, sometimes more. In background people scream about vodka. Latter not part of exhibit. #sbnb
Petalpusher
Some ass just fell off friend’s shoulders and whacked me in leg. He then tried to apologize with Italian opera. Yep, #sbnb is now messy
Blackcrown
#sbnb Not going out for Nuit Blanche is the new going out for Nuit Blanche.
if i ever find the FUCKING asshole who stole my seat & straps i will fucking CUT YOU TILL YOU BLEED & take my fucking bike gear back. #sbnb
Overheard: “Nooo! They are not having sex! They are being hung upside down by fish hooks!!” #sbnb
ashsper
Saw some interesting #sbnb stuff along bloor. Especially liked the ‘choir’ at the church at Walmer/Bloor. Soothing
“Yo, that sh*t is f*cking sick!” Woman (on drugs?) repeatedly yelling at performers in classroom at end of the world exhibit #sbnb
shannnnon
If you’re on a bike, you better ding that bell. Losers running into streets, taxis are swerving, drunk people barfing on curbs. #sbnb
sytc
45 minute wait at All Night Convenience at #sbnb you know where to find me
shedoesthecity
In Trinity Bellwoods people are playing tennis & renegade dance parties compete with shite #sbnb dance party. Skip park, go to castle!
Overherd
The funny thing is we’re not even looking at art we’re just drunk #sbnb
Anchorman2
Cab Driver: “let’s get the fuck out of here” #sbnb
HelenofCry
CRAZY lineups!!!#sbnb
AnnaVanna
LOVE Nuit Blanche, beautiful art!!!#sbnb
sighfactory
For those of us who have lived here for every rendition of#sbnb, tonight is just a yearly nightmare.
Makhoul
A field of glowsticks. #sbnb
Nina24
I walk #sbnb alone. Much prefer it solo. Ending night on a swing. Sean Paul blaring in background but tranquil here. Love this city.
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