Posted in None of the Above on Jan 28th, 2011
The first two in an on-going collaboration with the delightful poet/writer/artist Lisdsay Zier-Vogel. The top pair is a photo inspired by a poem, the bottom pair is a poem inspired by a photo… many more to come, so stay tuned.
July reopens
like fingers from a fist,
August, September,
pressed tight -
palm against palm,
knuckles
bumping into one [...]
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“Think of all the hours left between now and the time the sun goes down,” she said, without looking at me.
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle - Haruki Murakami, pg 67.
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The world itself, whose single meaning I do not understand, is but a vast irrational. If one could only say just once: ‘this is clear’, all would be saved.
The Myth of Sisyphus - Albert Camus, pg 31
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Posted in None of the Above on May 13th, 2010
A co-worker at Hot Docs had the coolest eye I’ve ever seen… the only enhancement to this photo was exposure and a bit of saturation. Amazing.
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And by midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else.
Everything is Illuminated - Jonathan Safran Foer, pg 47
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Posted in None of the Above on May 13th, 2010
It’s been almost a month since my last entry. This sad fact is due entirely to the ever-lovely but all-consuming Hot Docs festival. As a result, it dominated my life and camera the past couple weeks.
One of the highlights for me was shooting the first ever Hot Docs rooftop doc [...]
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Posted in None of the Above on Jan 18th, 2010
Photos from the Schulich Charity Association Fashion Show at York University.
More below.
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Posted in None of the Above, Portrait on Jan 2nd, 2010
Yoga on a snowy beach in Chicago.
More photos below.
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Posted in None of the Above on Dec 30th, 2009
December was a crazy month for gigs and I haven’t updated the blog in a long while. And so to make up for it, I thought I would throw a post together of about a half dozen shoots last month with a seasonal theme.
One of the 25 delectable entries at the Foodiemeet Bake [...]
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It is on journeys like this - where one is so horribly misunderstood - that you find yourself longing for home, that place where you are entirely understood, for better or for worse.
On Beauty - Zadie Smith, pg 307
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