13-1-18

13-1-17

Danger, keep off. Vancouver unusually cold, cold enough to freeze Trout Lake, and unusually sunny for January, the cold bringing several consecutive days of sunlight. The vitamin D has been greatly appreciated.

13-1-16

I've walked by these houses hundreds of times without really noticing them. Such odd little windows.

13-1-15

Old school drawing. Again. 5 hours tonight.

13-1-14

13-1-13

13-1-12

13-1-11

Monuments will often distort scale such that the viewer has to raise their eyes to view such things. It’s a power structure modifier, being forced to look up to something regardless of your respect for said thing. The telephone poles in the laneways of Vancouver are monuments unique to this city.

Icons. The words “telephone pole” roll off the tongue without consideration. It’s automatic. But telephones are obsolete, in the wired sense. These wires carry electricity, or The Internet ™, or the odd antiquated phone line. These telephone poles exist in contrast to their namesake. Electricity too is held up by these structures so they aren’t completely obsolete.

Sub-plot. There are tennis shoes hanging from the power line, but obviously not the focal point, and perhaps accidental but they are there. To acknowledge the role of “icon” the tennis shoes represent the urban mythology, an acceptance of weightier narratives associated with simple constructs. Is it a sign of drug dealers? Is it a memorial to a gang member killed in that alley? All are possible and flaunted by the condo dwellers looking for street cred.

Compositionally the rule of thirds is broken but alluded to. The lack of convention is completely undermined by the submissiveness of the mass at the focal point of the bottom right third in contrast to an obvious half-ing of the composition. It’s a tension resulting from submission, in a state of peace it is revolting.

Even the medium is to be considered. Digital photography fighting with an analogue construct that has been subverted to transporting digital media. Tensions abound. And it’s all hung off a structure that is 50 years old in design and, considering how long it takes to grow a tree, even older at conception. The seedling that now holds up technology transporting truck loads of data flying down wires made of sand probably (literally) took root at a time that couldn’t fathom the present in which it eventually landed. No tree ever expects to be planted in asphalt.

Then there’s an idea about civic identity. Vancouver has few unique features but one of them is the iconic laneway infrastructure. KenFoster makes a living painting alleys, if living homeless on the streets can be considered “making a living”, which is analogous to the value that Vancouver puts on the arts in general at a time when a rare live music and arts venue is being turned into more overpriced condominiums.  And so an artistic attempt at a time when art communitiesare being gentrified, taken of a telephone pole in a gentrifying neighborhood, is subversive in its submissiveness.

And then there’s unification. Despite the individuality of residents of this neighborhood, regardless of the dispute you have with your neighbor, or how much you abhor Starbucks, you share this connection, you are literally wired to them through this structure. There are controls, and these poles are controls, so there will be minimal overlapping despite the tethering. But still.

Since December 31, it’s the first colour photograph and the first photograph I’ve taken without a recently reacquired 24mm lens I had lent to a good friend. It’s a revisiting of my love for a 35mm focal length so nostalgia and understanding of a view point taint this image. It’s about understanding at the level of photographer which affects philosophical trajectory. It doesn’t translate directly to the photograph but for the first time in over a week I walked to a point, stopped, raised the camera, and took a photograph. So from the photographer’s perspective there is a peace to this image afforded by an adjustment to the process. And at 35mm instead of 24mm there is a peace to it that is difficult to describe beyond it fitting a refined and preferred perspective. 

Or something like that.

13-1-10

13-1-9

I once toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo that said, "nothing is permanent."

13-1-8

I think I've talked about this before but you see these motorhomes all over Vancouver. People live in them all year round. This one is a regular under the bridge on Terminal Avenue. He parks there more often when it's raining out, when it's not raining he's parked half a block down where he gets more light, at least I think that's why he parks farther down. I might have though the rain dancing on the roof of your home would be soothing. I have skylights and I like the sound of the rain, though it's possible the tired and old aluminum shell of a home is less than waterproof after all these years.

13-1-7

Secrets kept and secrets revealed.

13-1-6

I'm thinking about a new series of photographs to be called "The Things We Leave Behind."

13-1-5

13-1-4

13-1-3

The images I've been finding so far this year have all been so dark and brooding. It doesn't help that I've been fighting one of the worst coughs I've had in years but despite taking a sick day at work and doing little more than lying on a couch in front of a TV (I've probably spent more hours on my couch in 2013 already than I did in all of 2012) I've still managed to find a photo each day. I'm finding it comfortable being in a black and white world as well, a trend I might continue to follow, for a while anyway.

13-1-2

13-1-1

A new day, new year, foggy and grey. And crows.

12-12-31

Pictures of dreams.

12-12-30

I found a dream in a hole in the laneway, all blue sky-ed and lovely, poking out like a shiny coin freshly dropped in the mud. The hole looked torn as if it was dug up by someone wiser who knew where to find the sun and the blue sky and couldn't fathom why others would pave it over. The machines will come and patch the hole one day, of this I'm certain, but even then I'll know where it is, know it's still there somewhere buried beneath the asphalt, and it will warm my heart having this bit of knowledge.

12-12-29

12-12-28

12-12-27

12-12-26

12-12-25

Merry Christmas Sophie.

12-12-24

Christmas.

12-12-23

12-12-22

12-12-21

This is what the Mayan apocalypse looks like.

12-12-20

She'll hate me for posting this photo but this is what cancer looks like.

12-12-19

My lovely little Canon S100 died today. This is the last photograph it took. It's since been sent to Canon for repairs but I'm not optimistic. Hope for the best but expect the worst. Or something like that. I think it might come back to me functional and stuff. If it doesn't I'll buy something else. I'm already shopping.

12-12-18

12-12-17

12-12-16

12-12-15

Sunny day in Vancouver in December.

12-12-14

12-12-13

12-12-12

This too shall pass.

12-12-11

This was the best choice for the job, but even if it wasn't I might have picked it anyway for how amazing the label is.

12-12-10

12-12-9

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight
A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
Ans so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young
A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one

12-12-8

12-12-7

The Hollywood Theater on Broadway was bought by a church recently. Sadly, they don't show many movies, but on the way to Christmas they decided to show It's a Wonderful Life. The projectionist found a chunk of film in the can that had been extracted from the original 35mm print. He spliced it back in. The result is we saw a version of the film with some pretty heavy kissing that was deemed too sultry for the masses the first time around. I've never seen this movie all the way through before. I'd seen bits and pieces of it, for sure, but this was the first full sitting. Amazing. Such a treat, the venue being the cherry on top.

12-12-6

I have another picture from today, of the other eye. It also has a scar above it. I'm doing my best to remember where the scars came from. I believe one was from jumping up and down on my bed and I managed to try and stick an entire headboard into my eye. I failed, but I managed to cut the skin above my eye. The other, I think, was from being a "helicopter" in my living room as a kid. I got very dizzy and tried to cram a coffee table starting with one corner of it into my eye. Again, I failed, but there's proof of the effort. I'm not sure which incident gave me this line on my eyelid, and most of the time I don't notice it, but when I'm tired, which feels like a lot of the time lately, that scar pushes my eyelid down over my eye. I should sleep more. I should do a lot of things more, but, as a good start, I should sleep more. And I should notice my scars more.

12-12-5

12-12-4

too many missed days.

12-12-3

12-12-2

12-12-1

12-11-30

And then the Rainier Hotel, the only women's transitional housing that exists in the DTES of Vancouver, loses its funding. How is that a good thing?

12-11-29

12-11-28

12-11-27

12-11-26