So April, hey? Remember March? I barely do either, but I know it was a good one. The Discorder Fundraiser at the Biltmore was a ram-jammin’ success, SXSW was off the charts (as social media and the real-life community told me) and now spring is here. Although, while March was great, after going through this issue it looks like April may be even better.
Granted, I’m sure not everyone agrees. I find myself going back and forth between being super-duper happy and really down, and maybe some others are too. On the upside, I’m graduating mid-month, I’ve lived to tell the tale of publishing my first issue of Discorder as solo editor (although certainly not alone), and just last Sunday I sat in a sunny patch on a bench in a park with a T-shirt on. A T-shirt! That’s something to get you jazzed about the impending festival season.
On the other hand, this month’s seemingly infinite to-do list, between work and school and work, is daunting. I’ve got that deer-in-the-headlights thing going on right now, and while it will be humourous in retrospect — it always is — it sucks when you’re in the thick of it. It’s been one of those months when a button falling off my cardigan put me on the verge of tears. When I absentmindedly left my writing portfolio on a SkyTrain headed for the repair bay last week, I couldn’t help but feel that was a metaphor for where my mind was headed: straight for the maintenance dock!
I’m exaggerating, but I don’t think I’m alone. Maybe it’s something to do with the weather. Let’s not forget that there have been several days recently when the sky alternated between blizzarding snow and blazing sun within an hour or so. That’s got to have an effect on the fair folks in this city. But as I write this, the days getting longer and my back warmed through the window by a 12 degree afternoon, it’s hard to feel blue about anything.
I’m working on my Sunny Strolls playlist now, thanks to new music coming from some of our features this month. The Ruffled Feathers’ new album has me whistling away, and the newly-formed Dirty Spells are putting a nice skip in my step. Red Cedar surprised the heck out of me with PFSF; I’ve been humming “Dug My Grave” while in transit for weeks. I’m a bit red in the face to say Indigo Kids are new to my speakers altogether, but I’m glad for the introduction. Finally, with Record Store Day almost here, there are no excuses to be lacking great music for any occasion.
And flipping through what this issue has to offer, I feel warm and fuzzy inside. I’m reminded of the slew of talent and creativity that our community thrives with, from the dozens of humans who make this magazine happen, to the folks that inspire us to listen, watch, write, read, draw and take pictures about it.
Speaking of the people that make this magazine happen, we also held the CiTR Annual General Meeting and Volunteer Appreciation night at the end of March at Rhizome Cafe. If you were able to attend, we hope you had a great time and feel as appreciated as appreciated could be, because we appreciate you.
Alright, I’m getting misty again. So I’ll leave you to it.
Read on and stay rad,
Laurel Borrowman