I've always been fascinated and stared at maps for hours as a kid. I've especially been most intrigued by the uninhabited or lonelier places on the planet. Like Greenland, for instance, or just recently flying over Alaska and a chain of icy, mountainous islands, uninhabited.
Our country vanished from the map of Europe after the attack of the Soviet Union against Poland. That is our history. It is a very difficult one.
Anytime I feel lost, I pull out a map and stare. I stare until I have reminded myself that life is a giant adventure, so much to do, to see.
Grief is perhaps an unknown territory for you. You might feel both helpless and hopeless without a sense of a 'map' for the journey. Confusion is the hallmark of a transition. To rebuild both your inner and outer world is a major project.
I am a rabid Maple Leaf fan.
Our television set was in the bedroom. I can picture my mother fast asleep, exhausted from driving my brothers around. I can picture the Maple Leafs playing the Canadiens. One or the other would always be on the CBC on Saturday night.
I grew up in South Africa and I would look at maps and we were at the bottom of the world. There was this whole thing up there. I was always reading encyclopedias about the world. So travel was something I was always attracted to.
I have come from a background where I haven't had lots of money to put me on the map. I've had to work very hard for what I've got.
I come from a strong matriarchal line. I was raised by Gypsy, her sister, Mary, and my maternal grandmother. The result of not having my father live with us meant that, when it came to understanding the opposite sex, it was like working without a map.
But one thing that's constant is we've always appreciated fans. They put us on the map and they keep us on the map. I always put myself in their position. If I loved someone and had their posters all over my wall and met them and they were rude it would be very hurtful.
