In his 1947 novel, The Plague, Albert Camus writes of an epidemic, probably bubonic plague, that decimates the inhabits of the French Algerian town, Oran. One of the curious observations he makes is that the “[p]lague had killed all colors”.
Category: Heart
The category, Heart, is for posts that make us feel.
Film vs Digital
I am as happy with the images I make with film as with my DSLR cameras. To me, these formats represent different strategies. The more strategies I use, the more opportunities I give myself to make varied and interesting photographs.
Filmores Hotel
As I continued to shoot, I heard a woman’s voice immediately to my right: Stop shooting! I ignored the voice and kept shooting. Stop taking photographs this instant.
Family Day Photo Walk
To take his mind off the pain and insomnia, he started decorating things, his mailbox and front porch to begin with, then expanding out into the yard to create a garden of glass beads, plastic bugs, pennies, action figures, rubber boots, bicycle tires, teapots, pool cues, ad infinitem.
The Birdman
I wanted the man to understand that I’m not just another callous photographer, that I care about animals and abhor cruelty. Who would do such a thing? I asked. He pointed at me. You did this. You and your camera.
Two Kinds of Seeing
As a photographer, I pride myself on my keen powers of observation, especially when I’m out wandering in the streets. Seeing is supposed to be my thing. How is it, then, that I could be so bad at it?
Doughnuts in the Don Valley
The winter solstice (plus or minus a couple weeks) is the only time of the year when I can photograph Go Trains before sunrise. The first train of the morning commute passes a level crossing along the Lower Don Trail just north of Pottery Road at 7:00 am when the sky is still dark.
The Future
I have lived long enough to have had a past. In that past, I remember there was a future. It was the future of the science fiction novels I read, and of the movies I watched.
Listening To Images
When I look at the photographs I took of the nighttime cutting, I hear a crackling sound. This is not memory; at the time, I could not hear the workers for all the traffic on the street. It’s more a synaesthetic experience. I ‘hear’ the images.
Everybody’s got a Hungry Horse
When I’m out with my camera, I’m drawn to horses the same way I’m drawn to children blowing bubbles and protesters rioting. Photographically speaking, horses make a great subject, especially on a 21st century city street where they seem so out-of-place.
The Ideal Palace
In an essay called “The Ideal Palace” John Berger tells about a creation by Ferdinand Cheval, a “peasant” country postman who, in his spare time, spent 33 years and some 93,000 hours building a massive monument from stones.
Toronto Santa Claus Parade
If Dr. Seuss were writing his “How The Grinch Stole Christmas!” in 2019, I think the Grinch would be a fanatical Christian.
Vagueness
I went out in the first snowfall of the season. The snow itself produces a sense of vagueness. But that wasn’t enough for me. I went one further and framed shots of snow falling over steam vents. Then I waited for people to walk through the frame.
Degrees Of Separation
Whether six degrees or three, separation is still separation. Sometimes I feel separation when there are no degrees.
Holy Wild, by Gwen Benaway
Even a cursory reading of Holy Wild assaults our senses with a relentless documentation of the many ways a trans woman is despised for who she is. Cries of pain at the violence visited upon her. Lamentations at the betrayals. But also hope. Hope for a new life through a new body and through new relationships that promise understanding.