16-12-30

 End of the year bonus pictures. And black and white is where it's at? Maybe? Despite the van being a beautiful shade of teal, somehow black and white made the most sense today. For me anyway. And this is about me, right?

There is no reason for pictures to be black and white anymore. There was a time when that was all that was possible. But really, colour is easy. This is all about nostalgia. I guess I'm alright with that.

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Almost pro. Almost.

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Getting the hang of this turkey thing.

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Shortest day of the year.

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Rainbow trout in an orange marinade. Step 1...

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I guess this one is as much about what is there as what isn't, and how the void inflicts itself on what is. What I see is, a blankness of context, with hints of events, of structure and place. And an absence of specificity. It's a peaceful night, with mostly clear skies holding onto the last rays of sunlight, and the darkness reaching up and taking a firm grip on the landscape. A single lit lamp means there's resistance, and another lamp not yet on means there may be more resistance. Or simply exemptions, places where day doesn't matter, in the purest sense. Telephone wires (do they really carry telephone wires? is there any such thing anymore?) terminate suggesting the end of the line, or the beginning, or an exception to the line requiring special treatment, perhaps. A couple of trees, but why not more? or less?

I see a bunch of crap when I take these pictures. It's almost never just a night sky, and if it were, I can take a much prettier photograph than this one, I did so tonight even. But is a pretty picture enough? Maybe. Maybe not. I don't think so, but I'm alright with people who do think it's enough.

It's the dark that I find engaging in this photo. There are questions in the dark; a potential of sorts, for something brilliant, or alluring. And the monuments, things we erect in the landscape, tributes to technology, and the 21st Century, or artifacts from the 20th, tributes to "old Gods" some might say.

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Colour photographs of black and white seasons.

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Home made bread. Add tomato and thick sliced bacon. Some mayo. A hint of Dijon mustard. Salt and pepper. Just perfect after an evening with friends on a cold winter night.

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Cold days.

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Snow. In Vancouver.

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In the window of a shop, flowers in a repurposed juice bottle, with the remnants of days, weeks, years? of flowers on the window sill. It's incredibly beautiful and kind of sad at the same time. I couldn't see the floor below but I imagine there's more dead flowers there as well. There's a story here. I don't know what it is, but it's probably beautiful, or sad, or similar.

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This man is holding a large, unperturbed dog.

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