What strikes me today about these photographs I take is what isn't in the frame. Every single one of these photos has one thing in common; me. And a journey that brought me to this moment in time. It's the longest day of the year. It's been a longer day for me, with regular work and then a side job that has me lifting carpet and painting and installing new flooring on a Thursday night until dusk. You can't see how tired I am in this photograph. You can't see the six pack picked up from Bomber brewing on the seat of a 1998 GMC Savana van to my right. A van that has been a part of my life for over 100000kms and more than a decade. You can't see a pair of Carhart work pants weighted down with paint, sweat, and life, creeping down my hips because I was too lazy to move my belt over, or the boots scuffed into a personalized and confessional item of sorts. You don't see a woman wearing a blue and white dress and strappy shoes to my left, walking down the sidewalk with some bag filled with a treasure of some sort procured earlier in the day. You don't see the steady stream of cyclists aimed at various homes to the east streaming by me on what is actually a bike route. You don't see how tired I am.
You do see a city fading into darkness on the longest day of the year, and sunlight tracing clouds late into the evening. And I wonder about the things that aren't in the photograph.
