Running 2020 kilometres is roughly equivalent to leaving my house in Saint John, running through four U.S. states and across the Brooklyn Bridge, then back.

Or put another way, more than 47 marathons. Most of these kilometres were on trails, which could be twisty, hilly, muddy, or all three.

I don’t say that to brag or because I believe 2020 kilometres in a year is all that exceptional. …


By Julia Wright

Photo: Julia Wright

New Brunswick is simultaneously a great place, and the worst place ever, to grow up as a creative person.

On the plus side: the leisurely pace of life. As kids, we had hours to examine our souls while walking to distant bus stops. We sat in the backseat for endless kilometers as subdivisions, and yards stacked with junk cars, and ditches full of cattails flicked past. We were permitted to wander. We had snow days to read, snuggled up to a space heater. If we were lucky, our parents let us check out whatever we wanted from…


by Julia Wright

At the King Street coffee shop in uptown Saint John, pop punk plays on satellite radio. A girl with a delicate platinum wedge of jewelry in her septum and thick masses of maraschino-cherry-toned hair works the cash. The buzzing, student-union vibe doesn’t exactly jive with the formality of the invitation I’m holding. It’s heavy, cream-coloured card stock, usually reserved for wedding invitations. A large symbol, calligraphic, coils into and over itself. It looks like a block capital from an illuminated medieval manuscript. “If you look at that symbol closely,” Bernard Cormier tells me, “you can see it’s…

Julia Wright

Writer, runner, photographer and award-winning journalist based in Saint John, N.B.

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