11-2-26

Snow in Vancouver.

11-2-25

Sleepless in Vancouver.

11-2-24

Secrets.

11-2-23

11-2-22

11-2-21

11-2-20

11-2-19

Put a bird on it.

No, really.

11-2-18

Forever isn't as long as it used to be.

11-2-17

Just what I needed, another god damned reminder that another year has gone by.

11-2-16

11-2-14

I often wonder if Christo dreams of living in Vancouver.

11-2-13

11-2-12

11-2-11

11-2-10

It's not a new idea. The contents of wallets and purses have been laid out and documented by any number of artists or photographers. Writers have been photographed sitting at their typewriter/computer/legal pad, or simply their desks.

I've done it before and in the moment such mundane and banal surrounds seem undeserving of documentation but it's only because it's so familiar it seems insignificant.

My desk. Three Pentax film cameras, a Leica M3, a scanner/film scanner, toilet paper (my nose has been runny), a mini tripod, full sized tripod, bottle of red wine (half gone), excellent AKG headphones, changed from my pocket, notebooks, a stack of CDs I've never listened to but mean to one day, a stack of books I've never read but mean to one day, various lenses, receipts, duct tape, a jar of pens and pencils (though in truth there are very few that feel comfortable in my hand), lots of printer paper, speakers, cough medicine, sketches, The Wire box set that I've never watched but mean to one day. And more.

I dream of a big flat clear surface full of potential but every time I clear my desk it's not long before the stuff of life fills it again. I guess at the very least that means I'm not dead yet.

11-2-9

11-2-8

11-2-7

11-2-6

11-2-5

11-2-4

11-2-3

11-2-2

11-2-1

11-1-31

11-1-30

11-1-29

11-1-28

11-1-27