In the bushes of an Indian Burial Ground, Collingwood, Ontario, Canada
My photography work received an incredible amount of support this past year of 2010. The network of friends, peers, family members and strangers that supported my work helped propel me towards striving for my dreams as a photographer and designer. My patience was certainly tested but I learned a lot about perseverance and persistence, even if the hard work to the finish line did not guarantee the win. Second place can be the best, especially if the journey of creativity is a life-long one.
As I move forward into 2011, I will not forget the encouragement I received and hope to continue to be inspired by the people, places and things around me. It is an enormous pleasure to be able to communicate the narratives and ideas I try formulate through the medium of photography. Thank you to every one for reminding me of the connected web we weave in supporting each other. And, a cheers for creativity, imagination and the joy of exploring the world around us. It is ours to discover after all.
The cottage neighborhood beach, Collingwood, Ontario, Canada
Sometimes you don’t have to travel far to discover an other worldly landscape in your backyard. Sometimes you do need to travel far, you need to urn for the new, to gain the lens of seeing abstractly the environment around you. Either way, the whimsical nature of the frozen water, shore and inanimate objects made for pleasurable moments to explore on Christmas Day. And lucky too, as 5 days later it had all melted away.
263 Dixon Road Apt 8**, Toronto, Ontario Canada
This year I had to pack up two of my first places I had called home. This particular one was the hardest. I had grown up in this neighbourhood. I learned to dream in this neighbourhood. I discovered how to find joy and curiosities in the spaces around me. The forest we played house in. The bush I collected snails from. The fountain where the muskrat lived with the dirty matress and garbage filled hole.
These neighbourhood streets, I had first gained my independence in. From walking to school alone to taking my guinea pig on a walk. The memories flood in, but the photos do not do them justice just yet. These photos are just a reminder to go back and shoot the places of my formative years. I wonder if the visual soul of the photos will feel as cold and empty as these photos do from when I shot them in my final week there. Maybe that is what happens when you stay attached to a place to the point where its impact is no longer relevant to your life. Maybe that’s why I always desired to run away to places far, far away. Maybe the planes that flew by were the most important influences on my transient kind of mind. Maybe….we’ll see.
Saying farewell, in the void of the suburb I grew up in. Etobicoke, Ontario, Canada
Long walks in the fields. Listening to the inner needs.