How I envy not having worries

I saw this young mother and her friend in a small playground behind a school last Saturday having a grand old time with their kids. I approached her and asked if I could photograph her little boy. He’s probably three-ish. She obliged but warned me he knew what a camera was and how to avoid one. I sort of chased him around taking a handful of shots until I got one I liked. This isn’t quite the pose I was hoping for, but it’s the best I could get with the time I had. The photo walks group had already moved on down the street and I didn’t want to lose them. I should have probably switched my camera to continuous shooting mode and did the old “pray and spray” move, but I just took one shot at a time. My aperture was set to F5.6 because I was worried about missing focus if the depth of field was any more shallow. Wider apertures (smaller F-stop values) create a shallow depth of field, which is great for portraits but not so much for subjects that won’t hold still. All in all I’m happy with this shot. I should have gotten the mother’s email so I could send it to her. Oh well.

One thing that struck me reviewing this photo in Lightroom was the notion that this little boy hasn’t a worry in the world. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like. I’m on my third glass of red wine this evening and I’m still amped up with anxiety. And trust me, I have no reason to be anxious about anything. Right now I’m watching a documentary about, of all things, the inside world of waitressing. Frankly, it’s fascinating. Either that or it’s the wine, I don’t know which. At this point in the documentary we’re following along with a group of waitresses who work in high-end Paris restaurants. And as always, this has gotten my mind onto the notion of travelling. The moment I have a couple of drinks in me and the subject of travelling comes up, I get all messed up. I feel like I’m living this wonderful life I’ve made for myself, but it’s not mine. I wasn’t put here for this. I am bound to a reality that is killing me, one day at a time. I just want to liquidate all my assets and see the whole world — twice! Or maybe I’m running away from something and I won’t realize it until I wake up one morning in another land and discover it’s me in the mirror. I honestly could frikkin’ scream right now. I just want off this ride to nowhere. So there you have it. Another Friday night inside my head. Enjoy.

We should talk about those hand prints

We should talk about those hand prints. There they are, high up on the wall and on the ceiling. They’re red, congealed.

I don’t bring it up.

Neither will you. I know you won’t.

We’re going to pretend. Pretend we don’t see them. There’s no reason to look there, if we pretend we don’t see them.

An old grandfather clock in another room raises its broken voice on the midnight hour. Its dull croak crawls under the crack between the door and the floor, barely audible.

Outside a cold night rain speaks in a steady static on the slate roof tiles. A barren, black tree moans and twists in the wind like a trapped and wounded animal.

A far off train whistle reminds us of the distance between this world and that. Time stands still like a held breath – like cold fear.

We should talk about those hand prints. There, up high. On the ceiling and wall – in red.

I look into your eyes, searching for a sign.

The lamp flickers, for a moment – threatens to leave us to the night. Darkness kisses the room.

Outside, the rain, and nothing; a world asleep. Bloated black clouds press down with their pregnant bellies.

We should talk about those hand prints. They’ll be gone by morning. They always are.

But, we don’t.

Zoom blur tree

I’m sure there’s a proper name for this effect but I’m too lazy to google it. Basically, I switched to shutter priority and set my shutter to 1/15th of a second, which is very slow. I then zoomed right in on the tree. Quickly, I zoomed back out while at the same time triggering the shutter. In other words, this was created in the field, not in photo shop. Took a few shots to get what I wanted, but I’m pleased with it.

This shot was also created in camera, except for general adjustments to contrast, clarity and colour. To get this effect you keep the camera in shutter priority at 1/15th of a second and you pivot the lens in an upward motion while keep the camera still, and fire the shutter as you’re moving the lens. Because of the slow shutter you end up dragging the shot, so to speak, giving the image an upward blur effect. In Lightroom you then add the drama to really give it a haunting, timeless quality.

Anyway, hope you like them. Thank god hump day’s over. I’m looking forward to getting out with the camera this weekend. Had a bad night’s sleep last night again, even though I’m taking something for it. Tonight should be okay, though. Wish my anxiety wasn’t amped up, or at least I wish I had a reason for it. Oh well.

The butcher of Little Italy

The title kinda sounds ominous, eh? This guy caught me taking his photo but didn’t seem to mind. I can’t remember for sure, but I think I held the camera at my chest and just fired. Haven’t had a good steak dinner in a long time now. My last girlfriend and I used to go to dinner almost every weekend. I really looked forward to it. Not much fun taking yourself to dinner, although I have done it. I usually bring along a good book. I can cook a pretty decent meal, but again it’s not much fun even making a nice meal at home if you’ve got no one to share with. I still make the effort from time to time.

I’ve always had this sort of romantic notion of the perfect date. I’d take the girl to brunch and then hit the St. Lawrence Market (a huge, bustling downtown market where they sell a variety of fresh foods, much of it grown or raised locally) to shop for dinner. Then back to my place to drop off the groceries. From there maybe an afternoon walk on the boardwalk and a specialty coffee at some little cafe on Queen St. before dinner. We’d then return to my place where I’d make her a nice dinner with some wine, followed by a relaxing evening in front of the fireplace while listening to music. Unfortunately I don’t typically get opportunities to entertain such a date. Just not in the cards, I suppose. That’s okay, life goes on, right? I think it’s important to learn to be happy with the things you’ve got in life and not waste your time fretting over what’s out of reach. I’ve been in love before. That’s enough.

Shooting in the alley

This is a shot of one of our photographers in an alley back on Saturday. Boy it was cold. But no real wind, thank god. I’d planned on posting a photo of a castle tonight but wanted to write a little story for it. Well, it turned out to be a much bigger story than I’d figured on and I didn’t get it finished. I’ll save it for another time, ideally when my story’s finished. Or maybe I’ll just write something else. I never know what I’m doing when it comes to story writing. I just start and hope something comes of it. Anyway, off to bed early. Have a good night. At least Monday’s over.

I watch the silhouette waiting

I don’t know how it happened. Truth is, part of me still thinks it hasn’t, like maybe this is all a dream. Across a short stretch of wet blacktop I see a silhouette behind dirty glass, waiting. There is only this in front of me. I have no peripheral vision. To the left and right of this image is only a blinding white, infinite space with no beginning or ending.

The silhouette is me. That I am sure of.

I can’t approach. I can only watch and wait for whatever’s going to happen, happen.

I must be dreaming, I think. But I know I’m not. At the same time, I know this is not real, either. Not like the waking reality that is day to day life. When I think about my life, though, I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s hazy and distant and dreamlike, as well. I try to focus on how I got here but the memory’s suppressed. It’s on the tip of my tongue like that rogue item missing from your shopping cart but sure to solidify in mind on the drive home after it’s too late.

That’s one thing I do know in all this. It is too late.

I watch the silhouette waiting. The burning sun eats the moisture right off the pavement and steam rises into the cold morning air. It’s bright, the sun – brighter than any I’ve seen before. There’s meaning there, I’m certain.

I put my hands in my pockets and notice my warm breath condensing in the cold air. Little white puffs of life form in front of my eyes and then dissipate into nothing. This is not real, either, I think.

Out of the blue I recall penning a love letter to a girl who did not love me. I remember writing a song about it she never did get to hear. There’s much sadness there. It stands out but no longer hurts. I remember it with indifference. None of it seems important anymore, not like when it happened.

The sun grows larger and intensifies like a tumour. The silhouette stands and turns to face me. Although I know it is me I cannot make out the face. It raises a hand and places an open palm on the filthy glass. The sun has now obliterated all detail from this vision and even the silhouette begins to fade, swallowed by the blinding white light.

No words are exchanged but inside my mind I hear it say, “Follow me home.”

Although I’m afraid, I take a step out onto the blacktop. The warmth of the sun feels good on my face.

For the first time in a very long time I feel like everything’s going to be all right.

Dueling Joggers

Today started with an open eye. Just one, but that was enough. My one eye opened into a darkened room. A cold room. Mid-January cold. It was 7:00 AM. The other eye stirred a bit but the open eye told it not to bother. We’re going back to sleep, it told the other eye. It’s cold. It’s January. It’s 7:00 AM. A trifecta of reasons not to get up.

A cylinder turned over inside my head. Then another. Slowly, the gears slipped into motion. The hampster’s wheel turned over once and stopped. Synapses snapped. A thought began to percolate.

Fuck it’s cold, was my first thought of the day. And fuck, it was cold. No argument there. So far so good.

Another cylinder fired, something sputtered and coughed. A second thought churned to life: Fuck it’s cold and I’ve gotta piss. That is a drag!

And that’s how my day started.

I shuffled off to the bathroom and right back to bed. At this point at least four of the six cylinders in my head were firing. More thoughts bubbled to the surface. It’s Saturday. I’m supposed to go on a photo walk. Fuck it’s cold. I don’t really want to go anywhere.

But go I did. Got up, showered, poured some coffee into me, and out the door by 9:15 AM. It was still cold but the morning grey had been replaced by a stunning blue sky. Things were looking up.

Met the group around 10:15 AM and didn’t get home until around 9:00 PM. That’s a successful day, in my books. Almost 12 hours of freedom.

The only hiccup on this beautiful day was my camera batteries ran out just after lunch. I suppose I should have cared but I didn’t. I was out. I was free. And I was having a great time with my friends.

Then I remembered my cell phone has a camera. The last dozen or so shots of my day were taken with a crappy little cell phone camera barely capable of focusing. But when god gives you lemons you make lemonade, right?

Long story longer, the above shot was taken with my cell phone. Goes to show you that you don’t really need a big ol’ fancy DSLR to get some nice shots. I’m pretty pleased with this one. Hope you like it. And I hope you had a nice Saturday.

January on Lake Ontario

This is from my outing with the photo walks group back on January 7th. I still can’t get over how nice a day it was. Got another photo walk tomorrow, out in the west end. It’s going to be a cold one this time, and featuring snow! I’m kicking back this evening with a couple of glasses of red wine and watching an old black & white Italian movie called The Bicycle Thief. Really looking forward to tomorrow’s outing; well, except for the cold and all. Happy Friday y’all.