PASS THE SUFGANIYOT
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Every year that goes by, it becomes a little more special to get together and celebrate Chanukah (the festival of lights) with my family, my two sisters, their families and my 93 year old mother.
If there’s a greater religious context to Chanukah, it most certainly passes me over. Don’t get me wrong, the miracle of lights is a great story. I’m happy to believe that something like this did in fact happen, but let’s face it, it was a very long time ago. And in truth, I have no affinity for the food either… In fact latke’s with or without sour creme or apple sauce did not pass through these lips. Sufganiyot… forget about it!
What makes it special is that the whole family is together. It wasn’t all that long ago when it was my boys playing on the floor, eagerly opening up their gifts and cuddling the newest plush toy. Now it’s my grand niece and nephew’s turn for this. One day soon it may be my grandchildren.
So the Chanukah party is a marker of sorts. Next year I’ll take more pictures and marvel at how the kids have grown and of course how the grown ups have gotten older.
In spite of taking less pictures in 2022 than any other year in the last decade, I feel a greater importance of capturing the passing of time, registering in some way who we were at this moment in our lives. And just like those latkes, when they’re gone, they’re gone.
THE SUMMER OF MUSCLE
No pain, no gain
It started simple enough. Two times a week my son’s Maximilian and Solomon would have their friend Sebastian come by for a workout session. In a matter of weeks you would know what day of the week it was when Sebastian would arrive.
It was obvious pretty quickly that they were taking this seriously. Over the summer, as the workout level climbed, they would include a session at a local gym. Clearly our limited kettlebells and other gym gear was no match for the young lads intensity.
The workouts usually would end with a protein shake. Because “ya gotta get your protein’s in”. And if there was no time for a pre-meal shake, astonishingly it would often follow our hearty meal. Nothing was going to get in the way of those “gains”.
The meals proceeding the workout became something to look forward to. Alice and the boys would always make sure there was something special being served. I’ve never eaten so well in my life ;-)
And as fast as it started, this past Thursday was the last session for the summer. Sebastian was heading back east for 2nd year Law. And just like that, the summer of workouts are over.
I’m not sure what the workout schedule will be this fall. With both my son’s now working in the family business, there may be less time for muscle building. The days are already getting shorter. Here’s a few images from their last session. Three young men in their prime.
WHISTLER 2022, THE NEW ROUTINE
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I wouldn’t exactly call us a “skiing family”, but on and off since 2009 we’ve tried to get to Whistler for at least a week’s skiing. Both Maximilian and Solomon have come and gone during those years, with high school and university often getting in the way of them joining us. It didn’t hurt that between 2016 - 2019 Maximilian’s university was a 45 minute drive south of Whistler.
So here we all are in 2022. University days are now over. Covid has released its vice like grip on our vacation dreams and our bodies were willing and for the most part able.
The early years at Whistler were filled with routine. Wake up, eat, drop the kids off at ski camp and make our way over to our own adult version of camp. Our time together was dinner and the short time before bed when the blissful exhaustion of the day caught up to all of us.
So now we’re all grown ups. I’ve been known to want to get to the mountain early and beat the rush. While there was no fresh snow to rush out for, there also wasn’t the crazy line-ups at the base of the mountain that we faced last year. So our routine was get up, have a good stretch, maybe check out the news, have a fine breakfast in our room, lounge a bit more and at some point by late morning we would be ready to ski.
I think we were all comfortable with the pace of this new routine. I think Maximilian and Solomon enjoyed lounging in the room as much as we did. The mountain wasn’t going anywhere and after years and years of deadlines (school, work, etc) it’s just nice to chill.
This seems like a fine template for future ski holidays. I noticed my ski days have hovered between 5 and 6 days during our 7 day holiday’s. I think I’m about ready for a 4 day ski week. Plenty of time to rest and plenty of time to ski. I need to get working on my après ski skills, I think I have some catching up to do.
HIS NAME IS PAUL
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This is my cousin Paul. He is most certainly my closest cousin, in fact he’s also one of my closest friends. And as these images show, he’s a bit of a character.
We can convey character in images, but maybe what I was aiming for is that he is a character. Paul is a unique breed of humanoid that lives and breathes schtick… his is an unabashed, unapologetic form of Henny Youngman meets Jackie Mason type of borscht belt humour. It’s adorable. It’s agonizing. It’s uniquely Paul.
I had a blast taking these images mostly because I was almost certain he was going to tell me to go fuck myself when I asked him. Much to my delight he agreed and I think in all honesty he was just warming up as I was winding down. This guy was made to have his picture taken. I hope he’ll sit for me again and I really hope he’ll bring more of those fine smoked meat Rueben’s again (hint hint).
And for this post I am breaking one of the golden rules and I’m posting in both black and white and in color. I think the black and white photos stand well on their own but for this series I processed the colors (for the first time) using Fujifilm’s Eterna (Cinema) preset and since my cousin Paul is an enormous cinephile (with a sub specialty in Italian mafia films and tv shows), it seemed like a good fit.
Please don’t ask about the banana. It’s a long story.
WEEKEND AT THE DRAKE
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As we prepare to settle into what feels like an inevitable 3rd lockdown (or is it the 4th?) here are some images from a trip to the Drake Devonshire Inn a couple of weekends ago when our thoughts were on decompressing from the city, what are we doing for the next meal and shall we order up more tea?
Even though we were less than 200km from Toronto, it felt like we were away. The acts of eating in new restaurants, enjoying the spectacular view looking out into Lake Ontario, doing a little winery hopping and visiting the local alpaca farm was the respite that we were looking for. The quintessential recharging of the batteries.
So here we are on December 17th, a mere two weeks from that weekend, with the announcement today from the Ontario Government on further restrictions. Discussions now are on can we get the rapid test kits in time for returning to work on January 3rd and how can we ensure that we’re all safe.
If nothing else, this pandemic should be teaching us to be in the moment. Yes, it’s a cliche, but this very small part of the world that we call home can seemingly change on a dime. So for now, I’ll look at these images (yes, Alice’s foot is swollen due to a torn ligament) and remember a weekend with no care in the world.
Happy Holidays!
DETERMINATION UP THE WAZOO
I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that I wasn’t just a little proud. During Covid times, my eldest son Maximilian has embarked on a quest to transform his physique. It’s not that he was a slouch before, but something gripped him to put in the work to do something special. To look the way we all, if we had the determination and the time and perhaps a few less decades on the clock, would want to look.
I’ve seen it first hand the hours after hours he’s put into this. It’s not fast and it certainly isn’t easy. It’s not one or two days a week but most of the days of the week., week after week, month after month. And the amount of mostly lean, high protein food this young man can consume is startling. Between him and his younger brother Solomon, half of our fridge is full of high fat, high protein Greek yoghurt.
And to make this all the sweeter, he’s done this from home while finishing the last year of his masters program and most recently, the preparation for his thesis. Impressive to say the least.
But I am the grateful beneficiary of a young man who doesn’t mind having his picture taken, so what more can a dad who likes to take pictures ask for? Max is willing to ham it up and do what’s necessary to show off his hard work. My job is to try to not screw it up.
I posted recently about my ailing mother as well as the birth of my grand niece, two important events in our family. This post is a postcard to Max and his older self. A reminder to him of the year and time we’re living in and how he spent it doing pull ups and stomach crunches and the myriad other gruelling activities to sculpt his body. We can’t stop time, but we can certainly freeze it for a few precious seconds.
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STAYING IN
We’re on week one of our second major lockdown during Covid-19. If I’m honest it’s felt pretty much like we’ve been staying in since late March 2020. Yes we had a reprieve this summer (oh what a glorious reprieve that was) but this is now feeling all too familiar. It almost feels natural. That’s kind of crazy.
On top of that it’s January in Toronto and it’s been grey and grey and grey for so long I can’t remember the sun. I do remember a constant stream of beautiful sunny Sunday’s in July and August and even for much of September. Getting out of the city with our road bikes feels like an eternity ago.
Alice and I are debating (negotiating) whether we will still be going to Whistler come March. The latest news in BC is that they don’t want visitors. Yet the mountain is open and they are, like the rest of the world, desperate for business. It’s a tough decision. We’ll figure it out in February but in the mean time I can dream about beautiful British Columbia and those wonderful mountains. And when the sun is shining and the snow is fresh and it’s not too cold, it is what my dreams are made of.
in the mean time, here’s some images from staying in. That’s all I have at the moment.
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OUR PLASTIC LIFE
I don’t love the smell of plastic in the morning, I’m sure neither do you. Quite frankly it’s disgusting at any time of the day. It gets into your nose and makes a home for itself. Before you know it, you never knew it was there. Tricky little bastard that plastic is.
But it does do some pretty cool things with light as I have found out this week. At work we have plastic temporarily installed as a structural diaper under the ceiling to prevent the garbage from the new roof installation from falling on our heads. On my way home from work the other day, I noticed a layer of plastic was what was separating me from the driver and I guess, from sharing in each others germs.
I can’t say pre-pandemic I really gave plastic much thought, other than I know we’re supposed to be using less of it to save the endangered species in our lakes and oceans. Isn’t it ironic that in order to save ourselves, we’re producing more plastic in the form of take out containers, grocery bags and cutlery than we likely ever have in the history of humankind.
Back to the cool light. I’ve been experimenting lately with some of Pat’s (@laroquephoto.com) presets that come with his 1 Eye Society subscription and I have to say I really find them a joy to use. I know they’re supposed to be just a starting point but you know that’s what separates the men from the boys (clearly, I’m still just a boy ;). So for the time being I’m just enjoying the ease of clicking a button and having 97% of my post processing done. The “starting point” stuff will come in time.
The second set of images are work I’m doing to emulate a certain Polaroid look as a preset. The process is fascinating to me. The preset completely transforms the image into something different from the starting point. Like the plastic, reality is being distorted, the feeling is now different, perhaps even a different time and place. And maybe in these ridiculous times that feeling of being somewhere else is about as far away as life is going to take us for the time being.
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A SAUBLE BEACH THANKSGIVING
My last post was back in June. That’s probably around the same time i last picked up my camera. What are we going to call this… the Covid-19 brain freeze ‘n drought sounds about right. Whatever the reason (really, damned if I know) I just lost all interest in taking pictures.
When I finally did pick up my camera again a few weeks ago, I hoped that the part of my grey matter that registers what all the little dials and buttons do, didn’t completely atrophy like a weight lifters biceps after he’s become a couch potato.
The good news is that maybe this is more like riding a bike than I thought. The basics came back pretty quickly. The harder stuff like using a flash was a little trickier, with some of the missing details only reappearing days later.
Our Canadian Thanksgiving this year was a trip, about 3 hours north west of Toronto to Sauble Beach. The missing element of travel has been a big reason why I haven’t been motivated to shoot. So this was the perfect opportunity to see if there was anything left in the tank.
My mission was made all the more interesting since Pat @laroquephotogram provided his Daido Moriyama presets to me. My creative rebound needed a bit of a push and this was a great help seeing the world through the contrasty perspective of the Japanese master.
Regardless of the results, the passion at least for the time being is back. The Covid-19 brain freeze ‘n drought seems to have abated. Yet another of the many reasons this time of year to be thankful.
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LESSONS I'VE LEARNED
Where does art come from? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself lately. I’ve been working at photography for about eight years now and I’m fairly confident I’m getting better at the technical aspects but am I getting closer to making art? And let’s face it, what the heck is art anyway, what’s the litmus test? If it’s something that my mother would gladly hang from her wall, then I guess I’ve been an artist since I was old enough to hold a crayon. So there must be something more to this.
Regrettably I’ve had no epiphany, but I do wonder what happens in the process of making pictures, where it goes from a simple snap shot to something that has more meaning.
I’ve struggled mightily with the technical aspect of making pictures. Maybe my brain is more analog then digital and I should try shooting 35mm film. Perhaps I just need a Leica M4 and a 50mm Summilux nifty 50mm like HCB used and my vision will be suddenly be unveiled ;-)
But I doubt it. I think you either have it or you don’t. So if I’m honest, I would say I have the vision of a B league player. I’ve learned some basic competency, but I lack the drive, the desire and perhaps even the genetic goo to be someone who is truly great at this. My friend and teacher Patrick La Roque (@laroquephotogram) oozes artistic juiciness in everything he does. It’s really a marvel to behold. He can literally turn crap into something that’s beautiful to look at (not literally, for god’s sake).
So where does this leave the B team players like me? Well, you know, I think you have to aspire to something in life right? Maybe there’s some crazy cosmic goodness that comes when someone spends their life trying to reveal the kernel of potential they have. What I’ve learned is that creating pictures and sometimes adding a story to them (just like this one) makes me happy. It “forces” me, if that’s the right word to use, to process the world with the tools that I have available. Those tools are changing all of the time. Sometimes every week. Maybe that’s the carrot. Constant striving, constant self improvement. Breaking off little chunks at a time and sometimes, when I’m really in a good place, maybe I get to publish something that might resonate with not just myself but with others as well.
So I offer myself out there to the world of B players to not give up hope. The award is definitely in the journey itself. No one else may see you as an artist but if art is truth, the mere fact that we’re putting in the effort has its own merits. And when in doubt, just ask your mother. She’ll tell you the real deal.
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KEEPING IT SIMPLE
I am trying to keep it simple. This week I took a few days off of Instagram to give my brain a rest. I have to say it felt good. Maybe this will become permanent, time will tell.
This website is a nice and simple placeholder for my photography. There’s no soap box, no drama. Just a few pictures now and then along with a story. It works for me at this stage in my life.
There’s no advertising, no SEO and really no great effort other than the simple task of editing a few images and posting them here.
Maybe I’ll add an email sign up at some point but it all seems a bit unnecessary. Frankly, if no one reads this it’s truly not the end of the world. I’ll still have three square a day.
The ego is a funny thing that way. At the gym (in the not so long ago days when we went to gyms) I would go three times a week to work on some strengthening skills. There’s no one to judge you if you’ve done it well or not, it’s really something you are doing by yourself and for yourself.
Photography on the other hand is an art. There’s good and there’s bad. I really want to learn how to do it well, to make things that are pleasing to me and to others. So do I forget about Instagram and focus on this ghost website that maybe no one will see? Or do I put some effort into its promotion. Damn, that’s starting to feel like my day job.
I’m going to get to simple. I’m going to find it. Maybe all the fun is in the journey. Stay tuned.
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A WALK IN THE PARK
After a desperately long April, May finally arrived with some much needed sunshine. And finally some good light. I took some website images of my work crew earlier in the week and I was still in a black and white kind of mood.
As soon as Alice arrived home we headed out to the ravine by St. Clair. Funny how this is just a few minutes from our house but I don’t think we’ve walked through the underpass in many years. It felt just a little bit like a wilderness adventure. I’d forgotten how much I miss the feeling of dirt under my feet.
Once out of the ravine we headed further south to Dupont to head back west and home. it was just after 7:00 pm and the LCBO on Dupont was already closed as were all of the restaurants. I noticed the Krispy Kreme on Dupont was no longer opening during Covid-19. And there was no line-up at the Shoppers Drug Mart.
It’s funny the things you notice now, the small subtle changes to our everyday life. It’s like someone pushed the “slow” button. I realize for many people, the feeling is more like the “pause” button”, but that’s still got to be better than the fast forward button right?
The universe no longer feels like it’s being pulled in a billion different ways. It’s still being pulled, but it doesn’t feel like it’s being pulled apart. I hate to admit it but there’s an awful lot to like.
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