Making Happy

If You Can Talk

On the train returning from Montreal I was listening to the album "Train of Thought" by Talib Kweli and HiTek. There is a song on the album (Africa Dream) in which Talib Kweli relates an old Zimbabwe proverb "If you can talk, you can sing; if you can walk, you can dance."

Techinically I can but in my mind it remains more a question of "should I?"

Lomo LC-Eh

During our trip to Montreal I borrowed Mr. Risk's Lomo because I wanted a 35mm camera to use. It's just way cheaper to develop 35mm film so you can kinda go nuts and snap away. I try to pick and choose my shots carefully with the roll film because there's a constant mantra of "Twenty bucks for eight or twelve. Better make it count." playing in my head. Plus the closest you can get to a subject with a box camera is 2 or 3 metres which is sort-of limiting in some situations.

Overall I really enjoyed using the Lomo. The only thing I didn't like was having to guess at distances. I have very little ability to estimate distance and height.

Back From Montreal

We're back from Montreal. I've got lots to say but first a note about music. I think we bought about 13 records which is pretty good since we only went into a few record stores. I haven't been music shopping in a while and was feeling kinda stale. I actually had days without listening to anything at all. But I brought a cd walkman on the train and had the opportunity to just sit and listen to music. Sometimes I didn't read or do anything but close my eyes and listen which was really good for my mind. I rarely have the chance to do that anymore. I am often working while I listen which isn't as intense an experience. I also find the walkman can be a superior way to listen because the sounds are right in your ears and you hear things that can't be heard on a stereo played at a reasonable volume.

Anyways one record I bought, "Black & Proud: The Soul of the Black Panther Era" has this really amazing song sung by a choir of school children in Rochester N.Y. circa 1970 called "James Brown". As you can guess the song is an ode to James Brown. It is so good! There's nothing like school kids singing "His hair was slick and shiny; James Brown. Now he sports his Afro; he's thinking Black, Lord oh Lord, I'm proud.", "UHHH, Good God!" and "UHHH, Your bad self" over tinkly school piano music. Brings tears to my eyes.

I also bought:

Off to Montreal

We're off to Montreal tomorrow as a part of our belated 10 year anniversary celebration. Will be spending alot of time at the Jardin Botanique de Montreal which has the most spectacular greenhouse ever. You can see panoramic views of some of the greenhouse rooms and gardens here. I am literally foaming at the mouth in anticipation.

Today I bought a backpack camera bag so I can comfortably carry more cameras. It's ugly and blue but my choices were limited and I had to forsake form for function even if it makes me look like a frat boy. I can fit 8 cameras in the new bag! Some of those cameras are small but the polaroid colorpack II is bulky and even it fits. I know I lack restraint but I really do not plan to carry 8 cameras at any given time.

Goodbye computer. I will not miss you... much.

More Like One Thousand Demons

I never thought I'd like the Rolling Stones. They have so much working against them; my parents like them, Mick Jagger comes off as a real shmarmy fuck, the wierd cocaine connection (have you seen how many times Martin Scorsese uses "Gimme Shelter" in coke scenes?), good lord they made some bad music after a certain point... and yet here I am, on the eve of thirty years old, don't drink, don't smoke, don't do drugs, but I listen to the Rolling Stones alot. Mr. Risk jokingly says it's because they worship the devil...

Okay all that above was all babble until I could remember what I was really meaning to say here... Lately I'm sitting down to type in my entry and my mind goes blank. I can't remember what I had intended to say. But I'm not letting myself off that easily so I babble until it comes back. Yesterday Mr. Risk brought home the Lynda Barry book "One Hundred Demons". Let me tell you it is fucking brilliant. It is a beautiful piece of art and the stories are just so right on. I have loved Lynda Barry's work for a long time. I have watched her stories get better and better over the years. I have always felt most connected to her stories about disaffected youth and kids making the most of growing up in fucked up environments. Hell I don't know Lynda Barry, I've certainly never met her, all I know is that over the years I am relating more and more closely to what she's getting at. Often times she tells my life and my stories so closely it scares me. Plus like Lynda's character (the stories are only semi-autobiographical so who know's what is fact or fiction), I'm the oddball result of the wackiness of genetics; my cultural/racial background doesn't come through via my physical appearance in the slightest.

The story I liked best was "Common Scents". I have a really keen sense of smell which makes the smell of a place a pretty big part of my experience of it. The Aswang is another great one. I am well-versed in the messed up dynamics that can take place between mothers, daughters, grandmothers, etc. My favourite parts are: "Mom used to scream that she couldn't wait until I had children so I would know what HELL was like." and later "Who was the first aswang in the world? I'm 44 years old but I still don't know the answer. I never did have children. There must be a better way to fight vampires but I just couldn't think of it in time."

Here's a great part from "Resilience": "I'd be good and the dark ghosts would vanish. When your inner life is a place you have to stay out of, having an identity is impossible. Remembering not to remember fractures you. But what's the alternative? Tell me.
This ability to exist in pieces is what some adults call resilience. And I suppose in some way it is a kind of resilience, a horrible resilience that makes adults believe children forget trauma."

Portuguese Festival

    

Did you see the page I did for the Brownie Hawkeye Flash Outfit? I'm planning to do more like this for my other cameras. I thought about doing an animation of each camera spinning, showing a 360 degree view but realised that might fall a tad too far into the realm of object fetishism.

On Sunday we biked over to Trinity Bellwoods Park for the Portuguese festival. There is a church at Dundas and Grace that is adorned with lights that I like to take pictures of. It was a little boring this year but at the park they had a full-on carnival with rides, games and a crooning Enrique Iglesias type singing to an unbelievably crazed crowd of teenage girls. The screaming was so intense it sounded canned. "This is the hardest part of my job right here... Choosing just ONE lovely lady to bring up on stage with me."

Sadly there were no lights on the rides but I did try to take some photos of a ball-toss game with my new Spartus Full-Vue using the time setting and 800 asa film. It was total guesswork so we'll see if anything comes out.

We rode our bikes to the festival down the back alleys. Riding down back alleys at night is one of my favourite things to do in the city. I like the way portions of walls and wierd corners are illuminated by spotlights and how you can sail and glide without worrying about being doored or crushed by a streetcar. I like to go downhill standing up with my ass off the seat.

Prying Eyes

Got a bit of a thing for taking photos of doors and doorways recently. It's all doors, doors, doors. Ummm not "The Doors".

I added a bit of fanciness to my Brownie Hawkeye Flash Outfit page. Will continue to add fanciness to other camera pages as I find the time.

I'm trying to write a book. Okay who am I kidding... I'm trying to write and design a proposal for a book that hopefully some publisher will like and agree to publish for a small chunk of money. I don't know if I'm supposed to be all secretive or hush hush or whatnot. I don't know what the rules are for this sort of thing. I suppose there is a hazard in revealing my plans for a book if say, I don't finish the proposal, or it isn't bought or it DOES get purchased but then I have a nervous breakdown halfway into writing it and can't finish... There might be a splash of egg on my face if I SAY I'm doing this big thing and it doesn't happen. But on the other hand I get to whip it out in passing conversation. It sounds good and important.

Person: "What are you up to lately?"
Me: "Oh I'm working on a book."

It's a lot of work writing a proposal for a book that I'd like to make. More work than I thought. I thought the book itself would be the hard part. Maybe it is and I don't know that yet because I'm not that far in the process. But the proposal is a bit of a procedure too it seems. Plus I want to design the book myself which is a whole other thing entirely.

Oh the book is about growing plants by-the-way, a topic I'm sure at least half the people coming here could give a toss about. It's one of my other obsessions but since I get that out elsewhere I don't bring it up here much.

Today a friend asked me if I was going to have a launch party. Ummm I'm currently only in the process of writing the proposal for the book that may or may not be bought. Under the best of circumstances, and even if it is bought, it will be a small lifetime in the distant future before it appears in print and (hopefully) in stores across North America. Thankfully I've got alot of time to cultivate becoming a "launch party" type of person.

Plus I was reading the perpetually right on Keri Smith's newest article (who coincidently has a new book out), and I am absolutely the type of person who has the type of reaction she describes. Anytime I unleash something new into the world I experience a very see-saw inner dialogue. It usually goes like this...

"Oh how exciting..."
followed by...
"Oh shit what have I done?"
And then...
"Ya it's good, I like it."
Back to...
"Fuck. I just laid myself bare. Now I need to go hide myself from the prying eyes of the world."

Mystery Stink

There's a weird mystery smell wafting out from our fridge when we open the door. We've pulled it apart, removed the contents, and discarded anything remotely smelly. We've got a smell crystal thingy (strange healthfood store purchase) and zeolite rocks in there. I added a bowl of baking soda and lemon essential oil... and yet the stench continues. What the hell is it?

I have an exceptionally strong sense of smell. Bad smells, strong smells, chemical smells etc drive me around the bend and make it difficult for me to focus. It's good in some ways but also a bit of a curse.

Who's the Addict Now

Who's the addict now? I finally kicked my ebay camera buying addiction, and now Mr. Risk is on there regularly, contemplating and plotting new camera purchases. Which in turn has me contemplating new camera purchases.

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Don't tell the box cameras.
I love the pictures that are coming out of my holga even if the plastic piece of shit did chew up my second roll of film. Which by the way happened only AFTER I tried using the little cardboard trick everyone says is good and important and necessary. I'm kicking that piece of card to the curb.

CamperVan

I love this picture. It's my favourite of everything taken in the past two months! I took this on the way to a garage sale a few weekends ago.

LOBLAW

Yesterday we went crazy taking pictures of this building.
(Taken with Pocket DV)