Leni Sosa resides in Ontario. She often thinks about moving to Canada’s east coast, but then remembers that hell can come in the form of a long, cold winter.
She really digs music, the ocean, peculiar people, dirt, colossal movies, photography, forests (and oddly, lumberjacks), as well as things that go bump in the night, fictitious but memorable persons, pop culture myths about Roanoke, books and words in general … particularly words in the form of a dated expression such as “digs”. She will travel by plane to foreign places, but prefers a spontaneous road trip.
A good portion of Leni’s time is spent with compassionate over-analyzers, freaks that can’t sing or dance (but think they can and so they do), Jell-O shot aficionados, the writers frequenting her mind, lunatics of all sorts and children. Sometimes the lunatics happen to be the children. If you can’t find Leni with the big people, she’s likely at the kids’ table where she’s often absorbing some of the more sincere commentary.
She believes a life well spent is made up of healthy and reckless moments. It’s all about balance, folks.
When she is not taking photos, attempting to write something worth sharing, or blowing someone’s mind with her undeniable stupidity, she can be spotted laughing with her tribe, losing her voice at a concert, driving with the music cranked up, or looking incensed inside some shady watering hole over her losing team.
Leni is loyal, unapologetic for having an opinion, and believes that, a lot of the time, being brave means being unpopular. She has a deep respect for people with substantial grit and intensity. She has a strong dislike for bullies. Leni finds humour in writing about herself in the third person but feels no inclination to use big words. The best thing about her is this: despite an ardour for living, she doesn’t take herself too seriously.