My connection to Kingston began long before I called it home. Growing up in a rural community about 20 kilometres west of the city, I always admired Kingston from afar. It was the place where history seemed to come alive, where the waterfront met centuries-old limestone buildings, and where opportunity and community came together in a way that felt unique.
That admiration only deepened during my years at Queen’s University, when I worked at the Visitor Centre and had the privilege of learning about Kingston’s rich history, remarkable landmarks, and the stories that shaped Canada’s first capital. The more I learned, the more I appreciated what makes this city so special—its heritage, its character, and the pride people take in calling it home.
After spending years living in all three of Canada’s biggest cities, I realized there was only one place where I wanted to build a life with my family. Returning to Kingston felt like coming full circle. Today, it’s where my wife and I are raising our son, and where I’m proud to live, work, and contribute to a community that has meant so much to me throughout my life.
I enjoy the time I share with other members of my community, whether it is taking notes at school council meetings, deejaying school dances, fundraising for charity initiatives, leading sing-alongs at Christmas concerts or helping to coach soccer despite not really knowing when a corner kick is the appropriate penalty.
My parents and siblings have always been here, as well as old friends who welcomed us back and new friends who let us into their lives.
Kingston is more than just a city to me—it’s home. It’s a place where history and progress coexist, where neighbours support one another, and where families can put down roots and thrive. I feel fortunate every day to be part of this remarkable community.
When Moist was formed, we were a group of young musicians with big dreams, limited resources, and no shortage of determination. Every major record company in Canada turned us down, yet we refused to let someone else’s opinion define our future. Through perseverance, belief in one another, and a relentless commitment to our craft, we built our audience one fan at a time.
We worked our day jobs, rehearsed 6 nights a week, played where ever anyone would let us play in our home of Vancouver. And when we ran out of venues there, we scraped together enough cash to buy a beat up Ford Econoline and started to tour Canada. Coast to coast. Over and over. Through the generosity of a friend who produced jingles, we snuck into his studio when they closed for the weekend and recorded nine songs in 48 hours. We started to get air play. Through the generosity of some film makers who were on a break we managed to make a video, we tried to make it in one shot so we wouldn’t have to pay for editing. It turned out to be beautiful. And MuchMusic loved it.
What followed was more than we could have imagined. We released a CD that is now certified 4 times platinum. We made another CD that is 3 times platinum. And another that is double platium. We sold over a million records, earned 11 Top 30 singles, won two Juno Awards, and toured internationally, performing for millions of people around the world. While the accolades and achievements were extraordinary, what remains most meaningful is the experience itself—the friendships, the shared purpose, the challenges overcome, and the reminder that remarkable things can happen when talented people unite behind a common vision.
Being part of that journey taught me that success is rarely a straight line. It’s often found on the other side of rejection, uncertainty, and risk. For that lesson, and for the privilege of sharing music with so many people, I will always be grateful.
My granddad was an electrician. He retired around the same age that I took up the trade. I was busy doing abstract things like playing in rock bands and leading team building activities. But I’m so grateful I found this career path. The schooling was fascinating. Who knew the fundamental laws of modern power transmission could be explained using math developed by Pythagoras. In day to day terms its a joy bringing power and light to places in an old home that were previously dark and stagnant.
I love it so much. I’m so proud to watch a new neighbourhood grow, like the homes in Woodhaven, West Village and Riverview, and to know that I was involved in wiring almost every home that was built there.
My grandad passed away 40 years before AI came to be so I don’t know what he would think if I asked AI to write a poem about being an electrician. But here it is….
I lead projects from start to finish. Guiding unseen geometry through conduits, panels, transformers, and coils. Voltage is the promise I carry, current its fulfillment.Resistance is the ancient friction that teaches every circuit humility.
I am a steward of gradients, a navigator of electric potential, arranging matter so that energy may find its way home.
Through my craft, photons bloom from filaments, motors awaken from stillness, and silent buildings draw their first breath.
Each breaker I set, each connection I tighten, is a stanza in a larger poem— the story of charged particles crossing impossible distances, from spinning turbines and solar cells to the glow of a lamp beside a sleeping child.
Some call it a trade. I call it intimacy with nature’s secrets.
I have fallen in love with the migration of electrons, the elegant bargain between field and force.
And every day, beneath ceilings and behind walls, I help the universe continueits endless conversation of light.