Skylight, Tribeca

Too Much Romance, North 10th Street

Montezuma, Costa Rica

20-year-old Pinata, Toronto

When I was 9, I won a raffle at YPT - the Young People's Theatre. They put on plays for the local youth community. All of the proceeds went to an organization that provided valuable resources to children in need around the world, called Pueblito. My prize was a pinata.

At the time, it seemed unfair that while Pueblito children were starving, not only did I get to see a delightful performance of Jacob's Ladder, but that my attendance was rewarded with a technicolor mini-donkey filled to the brim with candy.

I received my prize with this moral austerity, and vowed never to crack the pinata's surface and eat the sugared interior; it was a test of will power and a modest tribute to suffering around the world. And so, untouched it sat, in my bedroom in Toronto, for 20 years.

This Christmas, as part of a broader moving-out-of-the-house-we-grew-up-in program, my mom asked me whether I'd like to toss the candy-filled beast, or keep it. I decided on toss. And so it went, or so I thought. That evening, my mom admitted to me that she'd been overcome with curiosity about what actually resided inside the pinata and had made an unsuccessful bid at opening it. Both her mild tearings and more vigilant sunders yielded nothing. So with heavy reluctance, I invited her to bring the stubborn thing into the living room so that we might try and open it once more.

This is as far as we got.

North 10th, Brooklyn

Walton Lake at Night

Point Reyes, Tomales