*The wonderful surprise of opening the camera roll on your phone and realizing that your daughter left you 27-self portraits.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Real You
There are nothing like those quiet candid moments when you think that the world is not watching. Or maybe you know the universe is tracking your every move -- and you just don't care. It doesn't matter. So in those moments, you dance and sing and talk to yourself and make faces as you stare at your reflection. It's during those moments when you are truly you -- or you are the you that you always wanted to be. Or you are the you that others wish they could be too.
*The wonderful surprise of opening the camera roll on your phone and realizing that your daughter left you 27-self portraits.
*The wonderful surprise of opening the camera roll on your phone and realizing that your daughter left you 27-self portraits.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Snow Angel
Cheesy title -- I know.
For whatever reason, Abby likes snow. Maybe growing up in the lower mainland of British Columbia where most of our snow comes in its liquified form has made her love it all the more. You always want what you can't have.
That makes me question whether we are related. My idea of winter sport is opening and closing the door as quickly as possible so the dog can squeeze outside to do his business all on his own.
I wasn't always like that. I grew up in north-eastern Ontario. I used to snowshoe and cross-country ski. I even had my own snowmobile when I was a kid. But I am an adult now. (Thank you Moe Berg!) My main winter responsibilities consist of swimming through the slush that people refuse to shovel from their sidewalks because they know it will melt eventually -- and shovelling my sidewalks while trying to ignore the numbness in my left arm.
But Abby believes in snow angels and forts and snow tubing at Mach-Two down Mount Seymour. Even when she caught a tube with her pink frosty face, she was still ready for more gravity-propelled fun.
I am not totally against winter sport. Next time it snows, Abby and I will sit outside and see who can down a hot fudge sundae the fastest.
For whatever reason, Abby likes snow. Maybe growing up in the lower mainland of British Columbia where most of our snow comes in its liquified form has made her love it all the more. You always want what you can't have.
That makes me question whether we are related. My idea of winter sport is opening and closing the door as quickly as possible so the dog can squeeze outside to do his business all on his own.
I wasn't always like that. I grew up in north-eastern Ontario. I used to snowshoe and cross-country ski. I even had my own snowmobile when I was a kid. But I am an adult now. (Thank you Moe Berg!) My main winter responsibilities consist of swimming through the slush that people refuse to shovel from their sidewalks because they know it will melt eventually -- and shovelling my sidewalks while trying to ignore the numbness in my left arm.
But Abby believes in snow angels and forts and snow tubing at Mach-Two down Mount Seymour. Even when she caught a tube with her pink frosty face, she was still ready for more gravity-propelled fun.
I am not totally against winter sport. Next time it snows, Abby and I will sit outside and see who can down a hot fudge sundae the fastest.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Catching-Up
My college friend Mark was in Vancouver for business. Thanks to Faced-book, we had recently hooked up again and had been shooting emails and start-ass status comments back and forth for a while – but this was the first time we’d seen each other face-to-face in about 25-years.
A lot had changed in that quarter century. Fatter (me). Less hair (me again.) Same rapid-fire pop-culture-laced conversations we had started in the eighties. To be honest it was like no time had passed at all.
But there was something else we had in common now – we were fathers. Specifically, we had daughters. Mark’s little girl is just three-months old. Abby is nearly six-years old. And there’s another thing – we both conceded that we really looked forward to The Talking Years. Mark has a bit of a wait. I’ve been in my full conversation-Abby-glory for a while now.
I always envisioned my relationship with Abby sort of mimicking the final season of “Mad About You” with Paul Reiser’s ‘Paul Buchman’ sitting with his daughter Mabel making fun of all the people that passed by on the street. Abby and I aren’t quite to that level of debauchery quite yet. For now, it’s just the two of us at a McDonald’s Play Place on a Sunday afternoon chatting about the important things in life: Build-a-Bear, Scooby-Doo and how she beat me playing Uno… again!
It was good to sit down and reminisce and catch-up. And it was good to connect with someone who I could go all goo-goo-daddy with over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs at White Spot. Next time we’ll have to bring our daughters – though I doubt we will be able to get a word in edgewise.
*Photos made of Laura Zeke of the Digital Photography Program at VanArts
A lot had changed in that quarter century. Fatter (me). Less hair (me again.) Same rapid-fire pop-culture-laced conversations we had started in the eighties. To be honest it was like no time had passed at all.
But there was something else we had in common now – we were fathers. Specifically, we had daughters. Mark’s little girl is just three-months old. Abby is nearly six-years old. And there’s another thing – we both conceded that we really looked forward to The Talking Years. Mark has a bit of a wait. I’ve been in my full conversation-Abby-glory for a while now.
I always envisioned my relationship with Abby sort of mimicking the final season of “Mad About You” with Paul Reiser’s ‘Paul Buchman’ sitting with his daughter Mabel making fun of all the people that passed by on the street. Abby and I aren’t quite to that level of debauchery quite yet. For now, it’s just the two of us at a McDonald’s Play Place on a Sunday afternoon chatting about the important things in life: Build-a-Bear, Scooby-Doo and how she beat me playing Uno… again!
It was good to sit down and reminisce and catch-up. And it was good to connect with someone who I could go all goo-goo-daddy with over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs at White Spot. Next time we’ll have to bring our daughters – though I doubt we will be able to get a word in edgewise.
*Photos made of Laura Zeke of the Digital Photography Program at VanArts
A Pretty Party Dress
I wish I was this self-assured. I used to be. Sort of. There was a time when I didn’t think about whether I would or should rule the world – I just did. I’m not sure what changed.
What we all need to do is think like a five-and-a-half year old. Abby wakes up in the morning and puts on a pretty party dress because she wants to. She dances and sings and laughs because she has too – it’s her nature. And she does things like this crazy eyes-closed thumbs-up shuffle because she knows that it makes me laugh.
She’ll draw a picture of a cat and colour it purple because… well, just because. She’ll skip to the closet to put her boots on before school. She’ll tell you you’re doing good job playing Angry Birds – even though both of you know that you are not.
I may not rule my world in the same way I used to or the same way I thought I might – but Abby makes me believe that maybe I could again someday.
*Pictures made by VanArts Digital Photography student Laura Zeke
What we all need to do is think like a five-and-a-half year old. Abby wakes up in the morning and puts on a pretty party dress because she wants to. She dances and sings and laughs because she has too – it’s her nature. And she does things like this crazy eyes-closed thumbs-up shuffle because she knows that it makes me laugh.
She’ll draw a picture of a cat and colour it purple because… well, just because. She’ll skip to the closet to put her boots on before school. She’ll tell you you’re doing good job playing Angry Birds – even though both of you know that you are not.
I may not rule my world in the same way I used to or the same way I thought I might – but Abby makes me believe that maybe I could again someday.
*Pictures made by VanArts Digital Photography student Laura Zeke
Thursday, February 16, 2012
This IS Abby
As much as I love the idea of video and hearing and seeing Abby running around singing and laughing and being 'Abi' -- there is something about photography and one picture that can capture a moment and say so much more in a single frame.
I work at a media arts school that includes a digital photography program. Part of the course covers family and child photography. They were looking for willing subjects to volunteer. I volunteered Abby. And the minute she walked into the studio, she ruled the session. When she wasn't being given direction, she steered the shoot. And the student photographer had no choice but to ride shotgun and snap the shutter.
Take this shot for example. While the instructor talked with her student, Abby walked over to the side of the set, grabbed the table, placed the mats, and gently deposited Blue Bear on top. Then she crawled under the table and waited for someone to notice. This turned out to be one of the best pictures of the session.
I have literally taken thousands of pictures of Abby over the years. You will slowly begin to see some of my work soon. Most of my stuff is candid slice-of-life shots; the kind of sly photography that, when you look back, makes you wonder when and how I got that shot. And this picture makes me think of moments like that.
This... is Abby! Bare feet... Blue... the head-tilt... and a smirk that suggests there is a whole lot more going on than you will ever know or understand or appreciate. I dare a video camera to capture a moment quite like this.
I work at a media arts school that includes a digital photography program. Part of the course covers family and child photography. They were looking for willing subjects to volunteer. I volunteered Abby. And the minute she walked into the studio, she ruled the session. When she wasn't being given direction, she steered the shoot. And the student photographer had no choice but to ride shotgun and snap the shutter.
Take this shot for example. While the instructor talked with her student, Abby walked over to the side of the set, grabbed the table, placed the mats, and gently deposited Blue Bear on top. Then she crawled under the table and waited for someone to notice. This turned out to be one of the best pictures of the session.
I have literally taken thousands of pictures of Abby over the years. You will slowly begin to see some of my work soon. Most of my stuff is candid slice-of-life shots; the kind of sly photography that, when you look back, makes you wonder when and how I got that shot. And this picture makes me think of moments like that.
This... is Abby! Bare feet... Blue... the head-tilt... and a smirk that suggests there is a whole lot more going on than you will ever know or understand or appreciate. I dare a video camera to capture a moment quite like this.
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